As soon as Vyan got hurt, Clyde took an involuntary step forward, but Theodore's firm grip on his arm held him back.
"He will be fine," Theodore murmured, his tone sure, though his eyes never left Vyan.
Just like how Theodore stopped Clyde, Ronan was stopping his mother, who now had fearful tears in her eyes and wanted to stop the duel. Katelyn's initial excitement also dimmed.
Hidden in the bush, Iyana watched with mounting concern as Vyan's right arm bled. She knew Eryndor was formidable, but seeing Vyan pushed to his limits, that too bleeding, was something else entirely. Her Aura flared anxiously, ready to intervene if necessary.
"You are nothing like your mother," Eryndor hissed, his sword arcing in a deadly swing. "She was a warrior. You are just a boy playing games." As if an afterthought, he added, "Although I guess there is one similarity—both of you are disgraces."
