âStep aside.â@@novelbin@@
âIf you would share your purpose, I will do so.â
The Second Prince scoffed, amused. The knight didnât kneel before him, nor did he offer the appropriate courtesies. He was blocking his path and yet refused to comply with a direct order to move aside.
âYou seem to be mocking the esteemed royal family.â
âIt is precisely because I am not that I cannot step aside, Your Highness.â
The Second Prince growled, but the knight instructing the First Prince stood firm. Paola and Lionel, who had approached the scene, exchanged bewildered glances. For reasons unknown, the Second Prince was unusually tense.
The Second Princeâs expression shifted, taking on a more authoritative tone as he gave the knight an order in a measured voice.
âYou have fulfilled your duty. Now step aside.â
âYour Highness, I am under orders to devote my body and soul to assisting the First Prince in his training. Only His Majesty the King or the First Prince can compel me to leave this spot.â
The knight pointed out the Second Princeâs rank with his words. The Second Princeâs eyebrows twitched in irritation.
âYou insolentâ¦â
That was when the First Prince approached. Paola and Lionel stood at attention beside the Second Prince.
âItâs all right.â
The First Prince placed a hand on his instructorâs shoulder, prompting him to step back with disciplined grace and take his place beside the Prince.
âAre you all right?â
It was likely a question regarding the training. The First Prince nodded, as if it was nothing.
âI am fine.â
They were brothers, but they didnât resemble each other at all. Paola thought this as she looked at them. Both had inherited the deep brown hair of the Loire royal family, but the First Prince had his fatherâs piercing blue eyes, while the Second Prince had inherited the green eyes of his late mother.
Their features were another point of contrast; the First Prince had a gentle, refined appearance, while the Second Princeâs face was rugged and fierce. Paola, sensing the First Princeâs calm demeanor, cast an envious glance at his instructor.
Suddenly, it dawned on her.
Dark hair, that demeanor. Paola leaned over to Lionel and whispered.
âI think thatâs him⦠from the Royal Guardâ¦â
âI recognized him too. I didnât expect the First Princeâs instructor to be someone like that.â
Paola replied while narrowing her gaze at the swordsmanship instructor. He looked back at her, dark eyes calm. Paola studied the knight as if to gauge his skill, but she couldnât come to any conclusions.
Perhaps⦠stronger than meâ¦
Before she could continue her thoughts, the First Princeâs voice cut through the silence of the courtyard.
âKyle.â
The Second Prince scowled openly at the First Prince for addressing him by name, failing in his attempt to disrupt the instructor with his previous tactics.
âBrother.â
âWhat brings you here?â
As usual, the First Prince seized control of the conversation. The Second Prince forced a smirk over his discontent.
âWhat are you doing here?â
âCanât you tell? Iâm receiving swordsmanship instruction. Iâm focused on training, so I assume you have a compelling reason to interrupt me?â
The Second Prince shrugged nonchalantly.
âI was just concerned about my brotherâs training and came to check in, but youâre rather cold.â
âIf your idea of concern is an attack from afar, itâs quite a troublesome concern.â
The Second Prince let out a hearty laugh. The more directly his faults were called out, the more he would respond with confidence.
âI was simply curious whether your instructor had the bare minimum of skills necessary. If he canât fend off such a minor provocation, heâs unqualified, after all.â
The First Prince glared at him, unable to contain his disbelief. The Second Prince continued speaking.
âYour instructor has been training you for quite some time now, hasnât he? It took over a week for the rumors to reach me. Considering your remarkable intellect, Brother, Iâd assume youâd have grasped the basics by now. So, why are you still spending so much time on basic grips and not progressing further?â
For the first time, the First Princeâs expression showed displeasure.
âEach instructor has their own methods. Donât pick at it unnecessarily.â
âNo, Brother. If itâs not a lack of talent or skill on your part, then the problem must lie with his capabilities as an instructor.â
Didnât this guy say that only the King and the First Prince could move him from this spot?
Insolent brat.
A wicked smile spread across the Second Princeâs lips. The First Prince, unwilling to allow his instructorâor himselfâto be further belittled, raised his voice slightly.
âIs that how you were taught? To doubt someoneâs abilities from the start rather than trust them?â
âI think itâs about time we assess his skills.â
The Second Prince provocatively turned his gaze toward the First Princeâs instructor.
âYou there, if you have a tongue, answer me. Is the lack of progress in training due to your incompetence, or is it because my brother has no talent for the sword?â
The instructor bowed his head and replied.
âNeither, Your Highness.â
The Second Princeâs brow twitched. Fine, letâs hear what excuses he has. He crossed his arms, settling into a smug posture. The instructor spoke with an even tone, seemingly unfazed by the Second Princeâs arrogance.
âI am still correcting His Highnessâs stance because I prioritize the basics, and I worry that hasty progress may endanger his health.â
The Second Prince scoffed, clearly uninterested in hearing the instructorâs explanation, as he was already prepared with a response.
âTo me, that just sounds like an excuse. Despite everything being laid out before my eyes, do you think Iâm blind to whatâs happening?â
The First Prince grabbed the Second Princeâs shoulder.
âKyle, regardless, he is my instructor. Your words are a bit harsh.â
The Second Prince roughly shook off Louisâs hand.
âBrother, surely I can question his qualifications?â
âHis qualifications are sufficient.â
Louis could have mentioned that the King had personally sent this member of the Royal Guard, but he refrained. If things escalated further, it would create unnecessary complications for him as well.
âThen he should be able to demonstrate his qualifications.â
Demonstrate? The First Princeâs eyebrows furrowed. The Second Prince shrugged and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at the two knights behind him. Paola flinched slightly.
âIf heâs not even as skilled as my guards, how can he claim to be fit to instruct you?â
The First Prince didnât bother to argue further. Nor did he want to avoid the confrontation the Second Prince was pushing.
Why refuse a fight that he couldnât possibly lose?
Hiding his intentions, the First Prince continued to reprimand his brother.
âIs this really what youâve come to? Fighting over whose knight is stronger?â
The Second Prince shook his head, feigning regret.
âI couldnât possibly duel you, Brother. That would harm us both.â
âEven so, dragging others into a personal dispute is hardly behavior befitting a future king.â
âHow can questioning the qualifications of a princeâs instructor be considered personal?â
The Second Prince pressed on, unmoved. He then motioned for Paola with a flick of his finger. At that arrogant gesture, a vein momentarily appeared on Paolaâs forehead, but she quickly masked her expression and stepped forward.
âFight this knight.â
The Second Prince ordered, as if commanding his own subordinate. He leaned in to whisper to her, lowering his voice.
âI donât care if you cripple him. Just ruin him.â
Paola cast a conflicted look at the Second Prince. Despite her feelings toward her superior, she was accustomed to following orders without question. Yet, this command raised doubts.
âArsenâ¦â
âItâs all right.â
Despite Louisâs attempt to stop him, the instructor stepped forward, undeterred. The Second Prince frowned. Soon enough, Paola would face retribution from the Sub-Commander of the Black Crow Knights.
âLetâs step back, Brother.â
With a smile, the Second Prince said, leading the way. The First Prince, clearly displeased, stepped back.
As the onlookers withdrew, an impromptu arena formed. Paola spoke quietly to the instructor, who stood opposite her.
âThe First Prince is quite the actor.â
Arsen Berne, or rather Maxime in disguise, raised an eyebrow. It was clear the First Prince had gone along with the Second Princeâs scheme to bring about this situation. Perhaps he knew it was pointless to argue with someone so irrational. Though he wondered if the First Prince placed too much faith in his abilities, Maxime said nothing to confirm Paolaâs observation.
âIâm not sure what youâre talking about.â
âYouâre quite the actor yourself. Not a single expression change, I see?â
Paola drew her sword from its sheath, and Maxime eyed the weaponâs sharp edge. She was certain that defeating the dark-haired knight with a sword would be no easy task.
Even with a mace, it wouldnât be easy.
With a wry smile, Paola assumed her stance. Maxime unsheathed his sword, mirroring her stance. The fluidity of his movements impressed Paola. Was this the caliber needed to join the Royal Guard? The Second Prince didnât seem aware of his instructorâs affiliation with the Guard.
Thatâs why he sent me.
Paola tensed, preparing herself for what was likely a worthy adversary. The dark-haired knight allowed himself a slight smirk.
âI canât afford to hold back.â
Look at this guy. Paola smirked back.
âYou talk like youâve already won. You only know by testing it.â
The instructorâs subtle provocation stirred Paolaâs fighting spirit. It had been a long time since she felt this exhilarated. Even if the opponent seemed unbeatable, hadnât she always overcome such adversities? From her days as a mere soldier to becoming a knight, she had triumphed in battles that seemed impossible.
âSince this is a friendly match, weâll refrain from using aura.â
Maxime nodded. No breeze stirred in the courtyard as tension thickened between them. The two knights exchanged imaginary strikes, searching for the perfect moment to start.
Bam!
The instructorâs sword let out a resounding clash. The ring of steel echoed, resonating in the minds and bodies of the onlookers. It was Paola who had struck first, her mana surging through her veins, electrifying her senses.
âFurther exploration is pointless.â
That was Paolaâs judgment. She couldnât allow the opponent to control the pace, as that would give him more time to strategize. Closing the gap, she pressed her attack, aiming to lead the fight into close quarters where she felt most confident.
â¦Not as easy as I thought.
She clicked her tongue. While she had faith in her experience, the black-haired knightâs responses seemed to transcend mere experience. It was as if the sword was an extension of his body. He adapted to each move with fluidity, countering with variations in technique that threw off her rhythm.
It felt as if he were testing his own skills, as though he were training himself with every parry and strike. And yet, he was more than capable of handling the sword.
ââ¦What a fiend.â
Paola muttered this almost unconsciously as their swords locked.
âNow I understand what you meant by not holding back.â
The knight, visible in Paolaâs gaze, smiled.
âCouldnât help it. Iâm enjoying this too much.â
Paola chuckled, though her face remained serious.
âThe Second Prince seems to have quite the grudge against you.â
âI noticed.â
âWhy did you provoke him?â
âI am simply following orders.â
At that loaded statement, Paola shook her head.
âThe Second Prince may seem reckless, but heâs a major power player in the court. That was a foolish move.â
âYou donât seem particularly fond of him yourself.â
Paola responded with a hearty laugh. Their conversation was drowned out by the clash of steel that accompanied their duel.
âI wonât answer that.â
Stillâ¦
Paola changed the subject as she blocked Maximeâs advancing attacks.
âGetting this riled up by an old soldier like me. Either you really love the sword, or you havenât crossed blades with many people before.â
âOn the contrary, your skills are formidable. Youâre no mere soldier, and youâre certainly no relic. However, judging by your form, Iâd say the sword isnât your primary weapon.â
Paola nodded, having anticipated as much. The habits sheâd developed from wielding a blunt weapon often surfaced even when using a sword.
âIs it an issue that Iâm not using my main weapon?â
âNot at all. Iâm enjoying this enough as is.â
âSo youâre actually enjoying this match, even though itâs tangled up in the personal and political affairs of the two princes?â
The knight nodded at Paolaâs question.
âEven if itâs a forced contest, thereâs no reason not to enjoy it. After all, itâs not a fight to the death, so why not have some fun?â
Paola chuckled.
ââ¦You have a point.â
At some point, the knight had taken control of the pace of their strikes. Paola moved in response, realizing she didnât know when sheâd lost the initiative.
âYouâre welcome to yield.â
A blatant provocation, yet Paola wasnât opposed to it.
âDonât tempt me too much.â
She conceded the offensive, but she didnât waver. Defense was Paolaâs strength.
Her body, having survived countless battles and brushes with death, moved instinctively to block the attacks. The scars etched into her muscles guided her arms, blocking attacks that ranged from irregular to traditional strikes.
ââ¦Heh.â
Paola found herself laughing.
It had been a while since she felt this cornered, and even longer since sheâd struggled to defend herself while in a serious defensive stance.
Gradually, her defense began to crumble. As her stance weakened, Paola made up her mind.
I may as well lose decisively.
As his sword came in from below, Paola abandoned her defense, swinging her own sword straight down.
Thud!
The loudest clash since the start of the match echoed through the courtyard.
Thunk.
Her sword embedded itself into the ground, signaling the end of the match.
As the First Princeâs face brightened with a hint of satisfaction, the Second Princeâs expression twisted into something close to pale astonishment.