The opulent training hall of Eryndell Castle glistened under the morning sunlight, its polished floors a testament to centuries of royal discipline. The air carried a faint tang of steel and leather, mingling with the echoes of past duels that seemed embedded in the wood.
Silver adjusted the grip on his rapier, feeling its familiar weight. Standing to his side was Mist, his loyal aide, brushing off imaginary dust from Silver's fencing gear with calm precision.
"You're overthinking again," Mist said softly, his cool demeanor betraying a hint of teasing.
"I'm not overthinking," Silver replied, his brow furrowing. "Just... focused."
Mist's eyebrow arched. "Focused? You were looking at the chandelier like it insulted your lineage."
Before Silver could retort, the sound of jovial laughter broke the tension. A stocky man in his early fifties entered the hall, his bright eyes twinkling beneath his graying hair. This was Edros Larrick, a long-serving advisor to the royal family and a master of aura manipulation. Despite his affable demeanor, his presence radiated an aura of command.
Behind him followed Lady Serel, the sharp-eyed fencing instructor. She was lean and precise, her no-nonsense attitude tempered only by the faintest hints of pride she felt for her students.
Edros clapped his hands together. "Ah, the young king, ready to trade his paperwork for some swordplay! And Coal too, I see. Should I prepare for someone to break the floorboards again?"
Coal, leaning lazily against a wall, smirked. "Relax, old man. This time, I'll leave the floor intact. Can't promise the same for Silver's ego, though."
Lady Serel ignored the banter, stepping into the center of the hall. "Enough chatter. Today's session is about preparation—mental and physical. The alumni event is less than three weeks away, and you'll need to show strength, skill, and, above all, control."
Her gaze landed on Coal, who returned it with a cheeky grin.
"Yes, Lord Coal, I'm talking to you," she added dryly.
"Hey," Coal said, throwing up his hands. "I'm the picture of restraint. Right, Silver?"
Silver rolled his eyes. "You broke a column last time."
"It was a small column," Coal muttered.
Edros chuckled, leaning against a pillar. "Coal, you're like a storm in human form. Powerful, unpredictable, and occasionally destructive. Let's hope your cousin fares better today."
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"Your Majesty," Serel said, turning to Silver. "Your first opponent is ready."
From the opposite end of the hall stepped Lady Mareth, a seasoned knight who had trained alongside Silver in his youth. She carried herself with a calm confidence, her rapier gleaming in her hand.
Mareth inclined her head. "Your Majesty."
Silver mirrored the gesture. "Lady Mareth."
The match began with a sharp clash of steel. Silver's movements were graceful and deliberate, his blade dancing in precise arcs. Mareth pressed him with calculated thrusts, forcing him to stay on the defensive.
Mist stood at the sidelines, watching intently. His gaze flicked to Silver's hands, noting the subtle shifts in his grip.
"Good," Mist murmured.
Coal, however, leaned closer to Edros. "He's holding back. I bet you ten crowns he doesn't land a clean hit."
Edros grinned. "You're on."
Silver's strategy became clear as the duel progressed. He used his light manipulation sparingly, letting the sunlight reflect off his blade at just the right moments to disorient Mareth. It wasn't enough to be obvious, but it gave him the split-second advantage he needed.
With a swift feint and riposte, Silver's blade stopped just shy of Mareth's shoulder.
Mareth stepped back, lowering her weapon. "Well done, Your Majesty. You've improved."
Silver smiled, though his shoulders sagged slightly with relief.
Coal nudged Edros. "Told you. No clean hit."
Edros sighed, fishing a coin from his pocket.
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Before Silver could catch his breath, Coal sauntered forward, cracking his knuckles.
"My turn," he said, his grin wide.
"With a weapon, I hope," Serel said, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.
Coal shrugged. "Don't need one."
Silver sighed. "You're impossible."
Coal didn't bother with a stance, instead adopting a loose, casual posture that only made his movements more unpredictable. When the match began, he darted forward with startling speed.
Silver parried the first few strikes, his blade clanging against Coal's bracers. But Coal was relentless, using his entire body to keep Silver on the defensive.
"Is this fencing or brawling?" Silver muttered, dodging a kick.
Coal smirked. "A little of both."
The sparring grew more intense, with Silver forced to rely on his agility and quick thinking. He used light manipulation to create brief flashes, but Coal's instincts were too sharp to be easily fooled.
Finally, Serel called for a halt.
Coal stepped back, his grin unabated. "Not bad, little cousin. For someone who plays with flashlights."
Silver glared at him but couldn't suppress a small smile.
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As the group dispersed, Mist approached Silver, handing him a water flask.
"You handled yourself well," Mist said.
Silver took the flask, his fingers brushing against Mist's. A faint warmth crept up his neck, but he quickly looked away.
"Thanks," he said, his voice quieter than usual.
Edros, meanwhile, clapped a hand on Coal's shoulder. "You might have the grace of a stampeding bull, but you've got talent. Just don't forget what Serel said about control."
Coal shrugged. "I've got control. I just choose not to use it."
Serel shot him a withering look. "One of these days, that attitude will land you in trouble."
Coal winked. "It usually does."
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As the training hall emptied, a figure lingered in the corner. They watched the royals and their companions with an intensity that betrayed their purpose. Beneath their cloak, they fingered a small vial filled with a dark, viscous liquid.
"The time is approaching," they murmured, slipping back into the shadows.
The halls of Eryndell Castle were quiet again, but the unease that hung in the air suggested the calm would not last.