Argider couldn't believe it. Then again, perhaps she could. Palace life was nothing if not a circus of betrayals, intrigue, and poorly concealed ambitions.
Everyone played their own game, and though she had long since resigned herself to its absurdities, this particular revelation still managed to sting—just a little.
Then came the thought, reckless and oddly liberating: if the game was rigged, why not rewrite the rules entirely?
Sword training would continue as usual for days, of course. It always did. The clash of blades was as much a ritual as a necessity in courtly life, and Argider had no intention of giving it up. But today, her focus wandered.
Each parry came a fraction too late, each strike lacked its usual precision. Across from her, Uzak noticed.
For all his bluster and simplicity, even he could see that something was off.
"Watch out!" he called, grinning as he lunged.
