The next morning dawned cold and grey over the Madurai stronghold. A dense mountain fog rolled down from the peaks, blanketing the courtyard in a heavy, shivering chill.
Inside the guest wing, Cassian stood before the tall looking-glass, slowly buttoning his high-collared imperial coat. He paused at the top button, staring at his reflection. Even under the dark blue velvet fabric, he knew the faint mark on his collarbone was still there—a lingering, silent proof of last night's weakness.
He closed his eyes, taking a steady breath, and fastened the silver clasp at his throat, hiding it completely.
'It is done,' Cassian told himself as he continued to look down at his reflection.
Just then a soft knock sounded at his door.
And it was Adrian. He gently pushed the door open, carrying a steaming tray of spiced herbal tea and freshly baked barley bread.
"Good morning, brother," Adrian said gently, setting the tray down on the heavy oak table. He took a close look at Cassian's pale face, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.
"How are you feeling? Thoris said you fainted last night on the terrace. We were terrified."
Cassian walked over, taking a seat at the table and lifting the warm teacup to his lips.
"I am fine, Adrian. It was merely fatigue and the sudden change in air. You should not worry yourself over such small things, especially in your condition."
"It isn't a small thing when the future Emperor collapses in a foreign land," Adrian countered softly, sitting across from him.
"And... Lucien looked terrible this morning as well. I saw him standing guard outside the armory at dawn. He didn't say a single word to anyone, and his eyes... Cassian, did something happen between you two?"
Cassian kept his gaze fixed on the rising steam of his tea and then shrugged.
"Sir Arden is simply doing his duty as my knight. There is nothing more between us."
Adrian opened his mouth to press further, but seeing the rigid, impenetrable wall in Cassian's eyes, he let out a quiet sigh and yielded.
"If you say so. But remember, you are here for three days before the wedding ceremony. You don't have to carry every burden alone."
"Yes brother, thank you."
*****
By mid-morning.
The fog had thinned, revealing the vast, muddy training grounds behind the inner keep.
Chieftain Tamil and several Madurai elders sat under a raised wooden pavilion, drinking warm mead and watching the young warriors spar. Thoris stood in the center of the ring, shirtless despite the biting cold, his muscular torso glistening with sweat as he effortlessly disarmed two tribal captains with a massive wooden practice broadsword.
Cassian stood near the edge of the pavilion alongside Lady Ruby and a small party of Imperial envoys.
Lucien stood exactly three paces behind Cassian, clad in his full, polished silver plate armor. His silver hair windblown, and his face carved from cold, unyielding stone. He had not looked at Cassian once since the sun rose.
On the other end of the training grounds. After knocking a third warrior into the dirt, Thoris let out a booming laugh, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm. His golden eyes scanned the crowd before landing directly on Cassian.
"Crown Prince!" Thoris called out loudly, raising his heavy wooden sword toward the pavilion.
"You sat through our feast last night like a true chief. But in the Steppes, a leader must also show his blade! How about a friendly match to entertain the elders?"
The tribal warriors gathered around the pit began to cheer and pound their spear butts against the ground, eager to see the famed Imperial Prince fight.
Cassian offered a calm, distant smile.
"I must decline, Prince Thoris. Imperial customs forbid the Crown Prince from engaging in informal duels without proper ceremonial cause."
Thoris grinned, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous, taunting light.
"Still as protective of your regal dignity as ever."
Then, Thoris's gaze shifted past Cassian, locking onto the tall, looming figure of the Silver Knight standing behind him. And he smirked mischievously.
"Well, If the Prince is too delicate for the mud," Thoris rumbled, his voice carrying over the roaring crowd,
"—then what about his loyal shadow? Sir Arden! You carried the title of the Empire's greatest swordsman during the war. Come into the ring and let us see if your steel matches your reputation!"
The crowd's cheers grew even louder. Chieftain Tamil grinned, leaning forward in his chair with keen interest.
Cassian turned his head slightly, speaking quietly without looking Lucien in the eye.
"Ignore him, Sir Arden. You do not need to respond to his provocations."
For a long, terrifying second, Lucien didn't answer.
Then, Lucien moved.
And without a word to Cassian, Lucien stepped past the Crown Prince, unbuckling his heavy cape and tossing it carelessly onto the wooden bench. He drew his longsword from its scabbard and the sound of steel ringing sharp and clear in the cold air.
Cassian's eyes widened slightly.
"Lucien—"
Lucien walked past him and he walked directly into the muddy ring, stopping ten paces from Thoris. His dark eyes were completely dead, hollow of any warmth, filled only with a dark, suffocating rage that had been simmering since the previous night.
"I accept," Lucien said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
Thoris's grin only widened, his muscles tensing as he raised his wooden weapon.
"A sword of steel against a practice blade? You seem confident, Holy Knight."
"Use whatever weapon you wish, barbarian," Lucien replied, adjusting his grip on the hilt of his sword.
"It will not change the outcome."
Across the ring, Ruby watched with a quiet, satisfied smile, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew Lucien was fighting out of sheer, unadulterated heartbreak and anger—and every swing of his blade would only push him further away from the prince who had abandoned him.
But on the other hand, Cassian gripped the wooden railing of the pavilion tightly as he watched Lucien stand in the ring, ready to bleed for a lie Cassian hadn't even told.
*****
The air in the muddy training ring froze as Lucien stepped into position.
Thoris threw back his head and let out a boisterous laugh, rolling his broad shoulders.
"A live blade against a wooden practice sword? You northern knights are certainly arrogant, Silver!"
Lucien didn't answer. He simply raised his longsword in a single, fluid motion. His face was completely void of expression, and his eyes dead and unblinking.
"Begin!" Chieftain Tamil roared from the high pavilion, slamming his iron cup against his knee. Thoris lunged first, bringing his massive wooden broadsword down with enough blunt force to shatter a man's collarbone. It was a heavy, wild strike meant to test his opponent's footing.
*CLANG!*
Lucien didn't just parry the blow—he deflected it with terrifying, razor-sharp precision, step-pivoting around Thoris's flank in a split second. Before Thoris could recover his stance, the flat of Lucien's steel blade whipped across Thoris's exposed ribs with a crack that echoed off the high timber walls.
Thoris grunted, stumbling forward two paces. The playful smirk instantly vanished from the barbarian prince's face. His gold eyes narrowed as he turned around, realizing in an instant that this was no friendly exhibition match. Lucien was fighting with lethal, unbridled malice.
"So that's how it is,"
Thoris growled, a dark, primal grin spreading across his face as he shifted into a low, predatory stance.
"Good!"
Thoris unleashed a violent barrage of sweeps and thrusts, his brute strength kicking up heavy clumps of wet mud into the air. But Lucien moved like a silver phantom. Every swing of his sword was fueled by the suffocating weight of heartbreak, humiliation, and bitter betrayal. Every time he pictured Cassian's soft lips, every time he recalled the fresh mark he left on Cassian's neck—and every time he remembered Ruby's cold words that their connection was merely *fleeting*—his blade struck harder, faster, and more brutally.
*Clang! Crash! Clang!*
The wooden practice sword began to splinter under the relentless onslaught of Lucien's steel. The tribal elders leaned forward in shock, the cheering crowd falling dead silent as they watched the Empire's hero push their ferocious prince backward step by painful step.
"Lucien, stop!" Cassian whispered under his breath from the pavilion, his hands gripping the wooden railing so hard his nails bit into the timber.
Thoris swung a desperate, wild horizontal strike. Lucien ducked smoothly beneath the arc, drove his shoulder into Thoris's chest, and swept his leg behind Thoris's knee. As the heavy barbarian crashed onto his back in the cold mud, Lucien delivered a swift, brutal kick to Thoris's wrist.
And the wooden sword flew from Thoris's grip, spinning into the dirt.
And before Thoris could even push himself up, the cold, sharp point of Lucien's longsword was pressed directly against the center of his throat—just hard enough to draw a single, bead of dark blood.
Silence hung over the training grounds, absolute and heavy. Thoris lay in the mud, breathing heavily, his golden eyes wide with genuine shock as he stared up into the face of the Silver Knight.
Lucien didn't look victorious. His chest heaved, his hair messy over his sweat-drenched brow. Slowly, Lucien raised his eyes from Thoris and looked directly toward the pavilion—locking his cold, hollow gaze straight onto Cassian.
There was no pride in his eyes. Only a devastating, mocking emptiness. And without saying a single word, Lucien withdrew his blade, sheathed it with a sharp *CLACK*, and turned his back on both the barbarian prince and the Imperial Crown Prince, walking out of the ring into the cold mountain fog.
Chieftain Tamil let out a low, deeply impressed whistle.
"A fierce hound... That one has killer eyes!"
Beside Cassian, Lady Ruby offered a graceful, serene smile, clapping her hands together politely.
"A splendid victory for my future husband," she announced loudly enough for the surrounding envoys to hear, purposefully cementing her claim over the knight.
Cassian stood frozen, his throat tight, his heart sinking into a dark, bottomless pit.
*****
Night fell over the stronghold, heavy and suffocating. A freezing rain had begun to fall, tapping rhythmically against the stone walls of the guest wing.
In the secluded quarters assigned to the Imperial Knights, Lucien sat on the edge of a plain wooden cot. His chest plate and pauldrons lay discarded on the floor as his left shoulder was deeply bruised and swollen from where Thoris's heavy blade had grazed him during the fight, the skin was raw and bleeding slightly near his collarbone.
He sat in the dark, staring blankly at his blood-stained wraps, refusing to tend to his own wounds.
Just then the heavy door groaned softly on its iron hinges, swinging open.
Cassian stepped into the dim room, draped in a plain black cloak, drenched from the freezing rain. He was holding a small wooden chest filled with medicinal salve and clean linen bandages. He quickly closed the door behind him, turning to face the knight.
But Lucien didn't move, in fact he didn't even bother to look up.
"Leave, Your Highness."
"Lucien... you are bleeding," Cassian said softly, his voice trembling slightly as he took a cautious step forward.
"You fought recklessly today. You pushed your body too far, and you need your shoulder tended to."
"I said, leave,"
Lucien repeated, his voice dangerously low, flat, and cold as ice.
Ignoring the warning, Cassian walked over to the edge of the cot and knelt beside him. He set the medical chest on the floor and reached out a pale, trembling hand toward Lucien's bruised shoulder, his eyes filled with quiet, hidden worry.
"Let me help you," Cassian murmured softly. "Just let me fix this—"
*SLAP!*
Lucien struck Cassian's hand away with a violent, harsh flick of his wrist. The sharp force of the impact made Cassian flinch, his hand recoiling as he stared up at Lucien in utter shock.
Lucien stood up abruptly, towering over the prince in the dark room. His dark eyes burned with an unbridled, furious contempt that Cassian had never seen before.
"Do not touch me!" Lucien growled, his voice thick with raw bitterness.
"Do not come into my quarters in the middle of the night acting like a concerned lover when you have already sold me off!"
Cassian swallowed hard, staying on his knees as he looked up at him.
"Lucien, please... listen to me. What happened between us—"
"What happened between us was nothing to you!" Lucien shouted, his composure shattering completely as he stepped into Cassian's space.
"You called it *fleeting*! You sat right in front of Lady Ruby and told her to claim me because I am nothing more than your loyal, disposable knight!"
Cassian's breath hitched in his throat. His eyes widened.
"Ruby–...she told you that?"
"Is that all I am to you, Cassian?" Lucien rasped, his voice breaking as he gestured wildly toward his chest.
"A toy to hold when you feel scared in the dark? A shadow to kiss when you feel lonely, only to throw me into another woman's bed the second the sun comes up?"
"Lucien, it isn't like that!...I never said that about you!" Cassian said desperately, rising to his feet, his cold mask completely disintegrating.
"Although I had to let go of you because of the circumstances, I never said that about you, please understand—"
"I understand perfectly!" Lucien spat bitterly, cutting him off without mercy. "You have Sora! You have a consort who is carrying your child back in the Empire! You have your noble blood, your crown, and your precious duty!"
Lucien took a step back, locking his hands behind his back, his posture turning as rigid and distant as a stone monument.
"Then just save your affection for Sora since he is the only one that you are so in love with," Lucien said, his voice dropping into a flat, deadly whisper.
"Save your fake tears for your court. I am done letting you play with my heart, Your Highness."
Cassian stood frozen in the center of the dark chamber. He couldn't say a single word as the silence between them was deafening, cold, and final.
"Now get out, before I forget my place as your knight."
Lucien commanded quietly, turning his back on the prince and staring into the dark corner of the room.
Cassian bit his lower lip so hard the iron taste of blood filled his mouth.
"And take that with you I don't need it."
Lucien pointed at the medicine and Cassian slowly picked up his untouched medical chest, before bowing his head in complete, agonizing silence as he walked out into the freezing corridor.
The heavy oak door clicked shut behind him, Cassian leaned his back against the stone wall of the quiet hallway, pulling his cloak tightly around his shivering shoulders. Leaving behind a man who now hated him with every fiber of his being.
*****