In the Evadene Kingdom, two days after completing their self-training, Kain, captain of the first division, summoned the recruits to the training grounds and ordered them to stand in line. River, Paul and of course, Rowan were among them and today marked the beginning of their official training as knights.
"Is this all of them?" Zalyric asked casually as he stood with Evan beneath the shade, sheltering from the midday heat.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Fortunately, not a single one has backed out," Evan replied.
"Hmm, that's good," Zalyric muttered but his gaze soon drifted toward the line of recruits. His sharp eyes landed on one in particular—a black-haired youth with a slight, almost fragile build that made his brow furrowed in open disapproval.
"Who is that? Why is there a scrawny boy among my order? Are you sure he can even hold a sword? I doubt it…" Zalyric remarked with irritation.
Evan suppressed a sigh and hiding his annoyance, glanced down at the list in his hands. "His name is Johann, Your Majesty. A commoner and of course, he has no surname. He's worked as a mercenary. According to the records, he's associated with River and Paul."
"Hmm." Zalyric tilted his head, still unimpressed. Then, almost out of nowhere, he asked, "And you're certain all of them are betas?"
This time Evan blinked because he was momentarily thrown off. He followed his king's line of sight toward Johann before answering carefully, "Of course, Your Majesty. I would never overlook such an important rule."
"Yeah, right. Besides…" Zalyric smirked faintly, his teasing tone cutting through the heat, "…you're a man of perfection, aren't you?"
He brushed past Evan with a leisurely stride, heading toward the palace interior.
Then Evan fell into step behind him, frowning slightly. "Is that meant to be a compliment or are you making fun of me, Your Majesty?"
Zalyric glanced at him over his shoulder with his lips curling. "Hah. What do you think?"
Evan only rolled his eyes in secret, biting back a retort as he followed the king inside.
When Zalyric entered his private study, Evan then briefed him on the next day's schedule. Among the usual matters was the mention of Grand Duke Arwen's visit—the father of Lady Celestine Arwen, the omega to whom Zalyric was formally betrothed.
The king's expression soured instantly and irritation gave way to simmering anger as he leaned back into his chair, his voice dropping low and sharp.
"I can't stand that old geezer parading around my palace. Should I just kill him?"
Evan almost faltered while his composure slipping for a heartbeat. "Surely, you jest, Your Majesty. You cannot simply kill His Grace over personal grievances…"
But Zalyric's sigh, followed by the way his cold eyes locked onto Evan that sent a chill down the aide's spine.
Because that look carried no trace of jest.
"The Arwen family has opposed the Nightborne line for generations," Zalyric said evenly, his tone heavy with disdain. "If that man refuses to know his place, then I will make sure he learns it from me."
Evan bit back a response, his silence weighted with caution. He knew well that when Zalyric's tone hardened like this and contradiction often led to heads rolling on the floor.
Instead, he asked carefully, "And what of your engagement to Lady Arwen, Your Majesty?"
Zalyric pushed himself from the chair and moved to the window, his gaze sweeping over the knights training in the courtyard below.
His voice, when it came, was laced with scorn.
"That woman neither interests me nor pleases me. She is nothing but an irritation and if she insists on clinging to me…" His lips curved into a cruel smirk as he glanced back over his shoulder at Evan. "…then one day, I imagine her delicate neck will snap quite easily."
Meanwhile, after the recruits' official training, Paul and Rowan had been partnered for sparring. Rowan, of course, lost while deliberately insisting that River should not hold back against him. He wanted every strike and every bruise to be a lesson, something he could carry forward to grow stronger.
River, on the other hand had been matched against a newly accepted commoner alpha recommended by the division. Unlike Rowan, his opponent lacked experience and though River won his match, it was clear it had been because his partner was little more than an amateur.
"Damn that alpha," River muttered as the three of them left the training grounds, making their way toward the inn where they lodged. "At this rate, he'll be recruited into the imperial knights before long…"
"Oh, really? Was he that good?" Rowan asked, a spark of excitement in his tone.
"Of course," River replied with a shrug.
"He told me he was raised on a farm but training was always difficult for him since his uncle would beat him senseless if he was caught practicing."
At that, Paul shot River a sharp glare. He knew exactly why Rowan's smile faltered and that story of cruelty was far too close to Rowan's own past in the palace.
"O–Oh, here we are," River said quickly while scratching the back of his neck. "You guys go on ahead. I'll just grab some chicken skewers from the market!" Without waiting, he hurried off.
Paul noticed the shadow crossing Rowan's expression but chose not to mention it then. Instead, they entered the inn together. After both had washed up, Paul decided it was better to confront the matter directly.
"Are you injured, Johann?" he asked quietly.
Rowan shook his head, giving a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Satisfied for the moment, Paul excused himself to track down River.
He found him near the entrance of the inn, caught in the middle of a commotion. A distressed omega had been dragged inside by an alpha knight and bread still clutched between his teeth while his body pinned down as if he were prey.
River's fists clenched at his sides, torn between impulse and hesitation.
"There you are," Paul muttered darkly as he seized River by the collar, dragging him into a nearby alley as he slammed him against the wall with enough force to make River grimace.
"His Grace ordered us to protect His Highness. And what are you doing? Wasting your time gawking at another omega?" he asked, almost like a whisper.
"I wanted to help him, but—" River's protest was cut short as Paul shoved him harder.
"They are not our responsibility," Paul hissed. "If His Grace learns you've been distracted, what do you think will happen to you?"
River fell silent but the frustration in his eyes was unmistakable.
But neither of them noticed that while they argued in the shadows, Rowan had quietly slipped out of the inn. Searching for his companions, he wandered through the streets and in doing so, crossed paths with the one person he was never meant to meet.