The training courtyard was alive with the sounds of clashing wooden swords, shouts of encouragement, and the steady rhythm of boots scraping against stone.
Adrian stood in the center, his small hands gripping a practice blade, his eyes narrowed. He wasn't just here to practice. He was here because today, someone had called him out.
That someone was standing across from him—arms crossed, a smirk plastered across his annoyingly perfect face.
The boy's name was Cedric von Halden, a visiting noble heir from a powerful allied house. He was two years older than Adrian, already taller and stronger. The kind of child who wore his status like a crown and made sure everyone knew it.
"Well, well," Cedric said loudly, his voice dripping with arrogance. "So this is the famous Crown Prince of Arathia. I thought you'd look more… impressive."
Adrian blinked, keeping his face calm, though he felt the sting of the words. Impressive? You're literally wearing half a parade on your shoulders.
He tilted his head slightly, replying with a faint smile. "And you must be Cedric. I thought you'd look less like a walking peacock."
The courtyard went silent. A few trainees coughed to hide their laughter. Cedric's smirk faltered for a second before he forced it back.
"Hmph. At least I don't hide behind titles to feel important."
Adrian shrugged casually. "Funny. You're the one who announced my title first."
Howard Rufer, standing at the edge of the courtyard with arms behind his back, cleared his throat sharply. "Gentlemen. Words mean nothing here. Let your skill speak."
His eyes landed on Adrian, sharp but faintly approving. "Control your temper, Your Highness."
Adrian gave a small nod, lowering his sword slightly. "Of course, Advisor."
Inside, though, he thought, Control my temper? I'm perfectly calm. It's Cedric who's trying to puff up like an angry rooster.
Cedric stepped forward, drawing his wooden sword with a flourish that made the sunlight flash dramatically. "Show me, Crown Prince. Show me if you're more than a spoiled child."
Adrian met his gaze, unflinching. "Fine. But if I win, you stop calling me 'spoiled.' And you drop the smirk."
"If you win?" Cedric scoffed. "Don't make me laugh."
Howard gave a single nod. "Begin."
—
The moment Howard's hand dropped, Cedric lunged forward with surprising speed. His blade sliced through the air with enough force to make a sharp whoosh.
Adrian barely sidestepped, his smaller frame weaving out of reach with practiced precision.
Too wide. Too flashy, Adrian thought, eyes narrowing. He's showing off, not fighting.
Cedric grinned as their swords met for the first time, wood striking wood with a sharp crack.
"Not bad—for a prince who probably spends his days sipping tea."
Adrian pushed back, his own blade sliding against Cedric's in a controlled parry.
"Not bad—for someone who probably spends his days admiring his reflection."
A ripple of muffled laughter came from the watching trainees. Cedric's jaw tightened.
"Cheap talk won't save you!" Cedric roared, swinging again, faster this time.
Adrian ducked low, feeling the breeze of the strike over his head. He spun lightly on his heel, bringing his blade up to deflect Cedric's next blow. Their swords locked, faces inches apart.
Cedric's eyes burned with challenge. "You're not as weak as I thought."
Adrian smirked faintly. "And you're not as clever as you think."
Cedric pushed harder, trying to overpower him with sheer strength. Adrian gritted his teeth but refused to yield.
He's stronger, but strength isn't everything.
In a quick, calculated move, Adrian shifted his stance, letting Cedric's force slide past him. The older boy stumbled forward, off-balance for a split second. Adrian tapped the flat of his blade against Cedric's shoulder.
"Point for me," Adrian said calmly.
The courtyard erupted in cheers. A few trainees even clapped before Howard's sharp gaze silenced them.
Cedric froze, stunned. His pride clearly didn't know how to handle losing even a single point.
"You… got lucky," he hissed.
Adrian tilted his head, pretending to think. "Or maybe I'm just better."
Cedric's ears turned red. "Again!"
Howard raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Second round. Begin."
—
The second match started even faster. Cedric came in low this time, clearly trying to surprise Adrian with a different tactic. But Adrian had been watching, learning every movement.
He's impatient now. Good.
Adrian sidestepped again, blade flashing to block. Cedric's strikes grew wilder, heavier. Adrian deflected each one, his smaller frame dancing just out of reach.
"Stop running!" Cedric snapped.
"I'm not running," Adrian replied coolly. "I'm thinking. Maybe you should try it."
Cedric growled and swung hard, aiming for Adrian's side. Adrian twisted, letting the blade skim harmlessly past before tapping Cedric's back with his own.
"Point two," Howard announced, voice steady but with the faintest flicker of approval.
Cedric stumbled forward, panting. His pride was cracking like thin ice.
"No… I won't lose to you!" he shouted, gripping his sword tighter.
Adrian straightened, breathing calmly despite his pounding heart.
"You already have. But if you need one more round to convince yourself, fine."
Cedric charged with a roar, his strikes a blur of desperate speed. Adrian held his ground this time, deflecting blow after blow until he saw it—an opening, small but perfect.
He stepped forward, meeting Cedric's swing with a sharp parry that knocked the older boy's blade out of line. In one smooth motion, Adrian pressed the tip of his wooden sword lightly against Cedric's chest.
"Match," Howard declared. "Winner—His Highness, Adrian Leonhart."
The courtyard went silent for a heartbeat before erupting into cheers again. Trainees whispered excitedly, their earlier skepticism replaced with wide-eyed respect.
Cedric stared at the wooden blade touching his chest, his face a storm of disbelief and frustration.
Adrian lowered his sword slowly, stepping back with a faint smile.
"You fight hard," he said, voice calm but not unkind. "But fighting smart is just as important."
Cedric's eyes flickered, pride warring with the grudging respect that was starting to surface.
"You…" he muttered, jaw tight. "…got lucky."
Adrian tilted his head. "If it helps you sleep at night, sure."
Howard's voice cut through the tension. "Enough. A duel is not for pride, but for growth. Remember this, both of you."
Cedric turned sharply, gripping his sword until his knuckles whitened. "This isn't over, Prince."
Adrian gave a small shrug. "Good. I'd hate for it to be boring."
—
Later, as the courtyard emptied, Howard approached Adrian, his sharp eyes studying the boy carefully.
"You controlled your temper," Howard said. "That was good."
Adrian wiped sweat from his brow, offering a small nod. "I wasn't angry."
"You were challenged. You were provoked. And yet you chose to think before striking. That is the mark of a leader."
Howard's expression softened slightly, though his voice remained strict. "Do not forget this lesson, Adrian. Your strength is not only in your sword. It is in your mind."
Adrian felt a faint heat rise in his cheeks. Compliments always caught him off guard. "I… I just did what made sense."
Howard's lips twitched, almost a smile. "And that is why you are the Crown Prince."
Adrian looked away, flustered but secretly proud. Crown Prince or not, I'll keep proving myself. Not because of the title—but because I choose to.
From the edge of the courtyard, Cedric watched silently, his expression unreadable. His smirk was gone, replaced by something Adrian recognized immediately.
Determination.
The kind of look that said next time.
Adrian met his gaze and gave a small nod. Not mocking. Not taunting. Just a silent promise.
I'll be ready.