Miyako hesitated, then stepped back, concern written across her face.
Gwenllian moved forward. She picked up a practice sword from the rack and stood before Mikhail, assuming a proper knight's stance.
Mikhail waited a beat.
Then he attacked.
He slashed at her chest. Stabbed toward her thighs. Pressed forward with relentless aggression.
She defended. Dodged. Parried.
But never struck back.
Time passed. Mikhail's breathing grew ragged. His strikes became wilder, more desperate.
And still—she only defended.
He noticed.
His frustration boiled over. His attacks became vicious, reckless.
"Don't you dare hold back on me!" His voice cracked with rage. "Don't you dare!"
She kept blocking. Retreating. Refusing to attack.
Growing more and more desperate to defend, never to strike.
Something in Mikhail snapped.
He grabbed her sword wrist with his free hand and slammed the pommel of his blade against her helmet.
CLANG.
The helmet flew off, clattering across the stone courtyard.
He raised his sword for another strike—
A hand caught his wrist from behind.
Miyako.
"Enough."
Mikhail froze.
He looked down at the girl before him for the first time.
Gwenllian was young. Pale skin. Black hair falling loose around her shoulders.
Maybe seventeen. Eighteen at most.
Still a teenager.
She looked back at him, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were wide, terrified.
Of him.
Her voice came out broken, sobbing.
"I... I cannot raise my sword against you, my Lord." She shook her head, trembling. "My apologies... I—"
Her knees buckled. She collapsed to the ground, head bowed.
Mikhail stared at her.
Slowly, he lowered his sword. It slipped from his fingers and fell to the stone with a dull clatter.
What the hell am I doing?
I was about to kill a kid.
He turned and walked away without a word.
Behind him, Miyako knelt beside Gwenllian. She placed a gentle hand on the girl's head.
"Are you well?"
Gwenllian didn't answer. She just kept crying.
Mikhail walked through the palace halls, barely seeing where he was going.
Anger. Shame. Frustration. All of it churned inside him, directionless and suffocating.
I barely know what I'm doing anymore.
He passed a group of servants. They bowed as he approached.
He stopped.
"Find Maria. Tell her I wish to speak with her. Now."
They bowed lower and hurried away.