The bedchamber was draped in shadows, the only light emanating from a cluster of enchanted orbs that cast a soft, golden glow upon the heavy silk curtains and carved ebony furniture.
King Rega IV sat not on his throne, but on the edge of a plush chaise lounge. Before him knelt his two bodyguards, Zuri and Kenya. The usual proud, dangerous confidence they wore like a second skin was gone, replaced by a quiet shame that seemed to dim the very air around them.
They were without their wooden masks, revealing the faces of two young girls. While they were often mistaken for grown women, they were actually from a tribe known for being impossibly tall. The truth was they were teenagers, around the same age as Rega. Rega had hand picked them from the tribe to be his guards much to the disagreement of his father. But the girls excelled at combat, earning the place by his side. A thin, angry bruise was already darkening on Kenya's cheekbone where Gethii's counter-strike had landed.
Rega dipped his fingers into a small, alabaster jar, scooping up a glistening, faintly glowing salve. His touch was gentle as he applied the balm to Kenya's bruise.
"He fought with the weight of a lost King on his shoulders, and the life of his woman," Rega murmured, his voice a low rumble, devoid of anger. "There is no shame in falling to a legend, Kenya. Especially one who fights with such desperation."
"But we are your spear," Zuri whispered, her voice tight with frustration. She stared at her own hands, clenched into fists on her bare lap. "Your vanguard. We are supposed to be the best. We failed you, Your Majesty. We were defeated."
Rega finished applying the salve before meeting her gaze. He chuckled, a soft, intimate sound that held no mockery, only a deep, weary understanding.
"Your objective was not to defeat him." He picked up a silk cloth and began to clean his fingers meticulously. "Your objective was to engage him, to press him. I needed to gauge his current capabilities. To see if the months away, the loss of his arm, had diminished him. I needed to ensure he was still in sufficient form to provide a… challenge."
Kenya finally looked up, her expression a sea of confusion.
"A challenge, Your Majesty? For whom?"
"For me, of course," Rega said simply. He set the cloth aside and rose, pacing slowly before them. "You are both exceptional. Your skill, your strength, your speed… they are without peer in this palace."
He stopped and turned to face them, his eyes gleaming with a familiar, predatory intensity, but it was tempered now with the focus of a master craftsman examining his most prized creations.
"But Gethii has something you lack. Not strength, but a different kind of endurance. A resilience forged in loss and honed by years of surviving on nothing but his own skill and will."
He knelt before them, bringing himself to their level, a gesture of intimacy that no one else in the kingdom would ever witness.
"That is the flaw I intend to rectify. You fought with the pride of the King's Guard, to protect your King. He fought with the fury of a man who has already lost everything and refuses to lose anything more."
Rega reached out, his hands gently lifting each of their chins, forcing them to meet his gaze. His smile was gone, replaced by a look of fierce, almost possessive affection.
"You have the speed of a striking viper, Zuri. And you, Kenya, have the unyielding strength of the mountain. What you lack is the stamina to withstand a relentless storm. And I," he said, his voice dropping, a promise woven into the words, "shall provide it. We will train. Together. Every morning, at dawn. I will teach you how to weather that storm, how to match that resilience, how to break a man who believes he can no longer be broken. Soon, there will be no warrior in this world, Gethii included, who can withstand your combined pressure."
He squeezed their chins gently before releasing them. The command was absolute, but it was the command of a leader, a partner, not merely a master.
It was a promise of shared strength, a path to an even greater power they would achieve together, under his guidance.
The shame in their eyes slowly began to recede, replaced by a flicker of their old fire, a renewed sense of purpose, and a deep, unwavering loyalty to the complex, dangerous, and surprisingly caring young man they served.