Adah and Sheut continued along the scenic path, leaving the noise of the marketplace behind.
The city softened around them. Pale stone roads curved between flowering trees, and shallow streams of mana-lit water glowed beneath the afternoon sun. Adah still held Sheut's hand, and to her surprise, he did not pull away.
"You're still thinking about it," she said.
Sheut looked ahead. "About what?"
"What's missing from you?"
For a moment, he was silent.
"It is difficult not to," he admitted. "I feel as though I am standing before a closed door. Something waits behind it, but I do not know if opening it will bring me peace or ruin."
Adah's grip tightened around his hand. "Then you don't have to open it alone."
Sheut looked at her, his expression quiet and unreadable. "I do not know why you continue to stand beside me."
"Maybe because when I feel you through our bond, I don't only feel darkness," Adah said softly. "I feel pain. Confusion. Longing. I feel someone trying to hold himself together."
Sheut's fingers gently tightened around hers.
Before he could answer, the air shifted.
A cold pressure brushed against his senses, like unseen eyes pressing into the back of his neck. Sheut stopped and looked beyond the trees, toward an old stone archway where the sunlight barely reached.
A figure stood there, cloaked in unnatural darkness.
The presence was powerful and filled with contempt. The shadows around the figure twisted like living things, clinging to its body as if trapped there. For one impossible moment, the darkness seemed to form faces. Dozens of them. Their hollow eyes and silent mouths bent toward the figure with disgust.
Sheut narrowed his eyes.
Why would shadows hate the being they surrounded?
The figure tilted its head, as if aware it had been seen. Then it moved, slipping into the deeper shade before Adah could follow Sheut's gaze.
In the next breath, it was gone.
"Sheut, what's bothering you?" Adah asked, feeling his mind wander through their bond.
Sheut stared at the empty archway for another moment before turning back to her with a small smile.
"Nothing," he said. "Let us continue."
Adah did not look convinced, but she allowed the matter to rest.
Two hours later, they approached the kingdom's outer training grounds.
The sweet scent of flowers faded, replaced by sun-warmed stone, iron, sweat, and churned earth. The training field stretched wide before them, lined with weapon racks, scorched targets, and cracked stone pillars.
At the center of it stood Sir Brighton of the Radiantian Kingdom.
He was difficult to overlook. Standing at six feet and two inches, he had the physique of a disciplined soldier and carried himself with the ease of someone used to admiration. His caramel complexion caught the sunlight, and his curled hair framed a face handsome enough to belong to a model.
But there was nothing soft about the way he looked at Sheut.
Beside him stood Captain Veralie and several of her men. Their armor was scuffed, their pride clearly wounded. Whatever had happened before Adah and Sheut arrived, it was clear Brighton had defeated them.
Brighton turned before anyone announced their presence.
His eyes found Sheut first.
The charm on his face thinned. His gaze moved over Sheut with cold inspection, and for a brief moment, a faint expression of disdain crossed his features.
Then he looked at Adah.
His face changed instantly.
"Sister Adah," Brighton greeted, his voice smooth and warm. "I wondered when I would have the pleasure of seeing you."
Adah released Sheut's hand, though her posture remained guarded. "Sir Brighton. I didn't know you had arrived."
"Earlier than expected," Brighton replied. "The Radiantian Kingdom thought it best not to delay, especially with troubling rumors spreading."
His gaze returned to Sheut.
"And some rumors are more interesting than others."
Adah's eyes narrowed. "Rumors become dangerous when repeated by people who enjoy them too much."
Brighton placed a hand over his chest with graceful apology. "Then forgive me. I meant no offense."
His smile remained, but Sheut saw the coldness beneath it.
"Sir Brighton of the Radiantian Kingdom," he said. "And you must be Sheut Khensu."
"I am," Sheut replied.
"How fascinating."
The word carried no warmth.
Adah stepped closer to Sheut's side. "Sheut is under the protection of Queen Nandi and the West Nile Crown."
"So I have heard," Brighton said. "Though protection and trust are not always the same thing."
The training ground grew quiet.
Sheut met Brighton's gaze calmly. "You speak as though this world belongs to you."
Brighton's smile tightened. "A harmless misunderstanding."
"No," Sheut said. "It was not."
For the first time, Brighton's mask nearly cracked.
Before the tension could deepen, Captain Veralie stepped forward.
"Sister Adah," she said, her voice steady despite her bruised pride. "Big John sent word. The Queen may request your presence soon."
Adah turned. "The Queen?"
Veralie nodded.
Sheut felt Adah's concern through the bond. The council. The Queen. The truth still hidden from them.
"We should go," Adah said.
Sheut nodded.
As they turned to leave, Brighton spoke once more.
"Sheut Khensu."
Sheut paused.
Brighton's voice remained pleasant. "I look forward to understanding exactly what you are."
Adah's expression hardened.
Sheut looked back at him. "And I look forward to understanding why so many people believe they have the right to decide that before I do."
For one brief moment, Brighton's smile disappeared.
Then it returned, flawless and false.
Adah reached for Sheut's hand again.
This time, she did not let go.
Together, they left the training ground and walked toward the palace.
Behind them, Sir Brighton watched in silence. But, before they could get too far. He decided to yell out a challenge towards Sheut. Forgetting his fake pleasantry, "Where do you think you're going, trash! Did you think that you could simply walk away after what you did to my troops?! I intend to mop the floor with your blood. Do you dare, coward, before me?
Sheut turned around with a wide smile, though there was no joy in it.
The training ground went still.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Adah's fingers tightened around his hand. "Sheut."
He did not look at her. His eyes remained fixed on Brighton.
"Trash?" Sheut repeated softly.
Brighton's face twisted now that his polished mask had fallen away. The handsome knight who had greeted Adah with warmth was gone. In his place stood something sharper, uglier, and far more honest.
"You heard me," Brighton said. "I do not know what trick you used against Captain Veralie and her men, but I will not allow some nameless monster to disgrace soldiers of the Radiantian Kingdom and then hide behind a princess's protection."
Captain Veralie's jaw tightened. Several of her men looked away.
Adah stepped forward. "Sir Brighton, that is enough."
"No, Sister Adah," Brighton said, never taking his eyes off Sheut. "It is not. Your kindness blinds you. You stand beside that thing as though it is a man, but none of us know what it truly is."
A faint chill passed through the bond.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Something older.
Sheut slowly released Adah's hand.
Adah felt the loss immediately. "Sheut, don't."
He glanced at her then, and his smile softened for only a moment. "I will not kill him."
That did not comfort her.
Brighton laughed once, sharp and humorless. "How generous."
Sheut turned fully toward him. "You challenged me."
"I did."
"Then speak clearly," Sheut said. "Do you want a duel, Sir Brighton of the Radiantian Kingdom?"
Brighton's eyes gleamed. "I want you on your knees."
The words landed heavily.
A few soldiers shifted uncomfortably.
Sheut's smile widened.
"That is not a duel," he said. "That is a fantasy."
Adah's eyes widened despite herself.
One of Veralie's men coughed into his fist, badly hiding a laugh.
Brighton's expression darkened.
"You dare mock me?"
"I am trying to understand you," Sheut replied calmly. "You shout insults, demand blood, and speak of honor, yet all I hear is a man desperate to prove something to people who already know what he is."
Brighton's hand went to the hilt of his sword.
Light gathered around the blade before it was even drawn, golden and fierce. The moment steel left its sheath, the air grew hot. Radiant mana rolled from him in waves, bright enough to force several soldiers to shield their eyes.
Adah moved to intervene.
Captain Veralie caught her wrist.
Adah snapped her gaze toward her. "Let go."
Veralie's face was tense. "If you step in now, Brighton will claim Sheut needed protection."
Adah looked back at Sheut.
He stood alone in the center of the training ground, hands empty, posture relaxed.
Too relaxed.
Brighton lifted his glowing sword. "Draw your weapon."
"I do not have one."
"Then form one with mana."
"I do not need one."
The insult struck deeper than any blade.
Brighton's face was a mask of anger before a smile once again reached his face. "So you think you're strong? I guess now is a good time to show you the difference between a proto rank-B powerhouse and a high mid-C poser. Fisticuff it is then," he said as he took off the damping ring.
Murmurs spread across the crowd that quickly began to form after hearing that Sir Brighton was said to be challenging the demon who had beaten his troops to a pulp.