I was dead.
Or at least, I felt like I was.
Lying on the cool, soft grass, arms sprawled out like I had just collapsed from running a marathon, I stared up at the endless blue sky, trying to remember how to breathe properly.
"A noble lady," I panted, voice weak, "shouldn't be sweating, dying, wielding daggers, dodging fire, and—oh yeah—barely avoiding getting her head taken off by a sword."
Beside me, my father let out a deep, amused chuckle. "What was that, cuddlebug?"
I groaned, throwing an arm over my face. "I said, I should be drinking tea in a grand estate, gossiping about useless things, not barely escaping death at the hands of my own father."
Duke laughed again, loud and proud, like I had just told the funniest joke in the world. "That's exactly why I'm training you, Sera. What's the point of nobility if you can't defend yourself?"
I peeked out from under my arm. "Oh, I don't know—guards? Wealth? Status?"
He scoffed. "Guards won't always be around. Wealth means nothing if you're dead. And status? Status doesn't stop a sword from going through your chest."
I grimaced. "Well, thanks for that lovely visual."
He grinned down at me, completely unbothered. Meanwhile, I was dying.
"Come on, get up," he said, nudging me with his boot.
I made a dramatic, exaggerated effort to sit up, groaning like I had aged fifty years in the past hour. "You say that like I have anything left in me. I think my soul left my body three rounds ago."
He rolled his eyes. "You're being dramatic."
"Dramatic?!" I gaped at him, pointing at the dagger still clenched in my fingers. "I just spent the last two hours dodging an actual longsword while being repeatedly set on fire."
"It was controlled fire," he corrected, smirking.
"Oh, well, that makes it so much better!" I threw my hands in the air. "Next time, why don't you just drown me in a controlled flood while you're at it?"
Duke chuckled again. "Don't tempt me."
I groaned, flopping back down onto the grass. "I regret coming home."
He snorted. "No, you don't."
I sighed, completely exhausted. But I wasn't stupid—I couldn't let this training go to waste. As much as I hated to admit it, my father was right. My body was learning, adapting. My movements were getting faster, sharper. And those instincts—the ones that had felt foreign to me before—were starting to feel natural.
That meant Sera Vandren's memories, her abilities… were merging with my own.
And that was both terrifying and incredible.
Duke suddenly dropped down beside me, resting his hands behind his head as he gazed up at the sky. "You did well today."
I turned my head, staring at him suspiciously. "…Is that a compliment?"
He smirked. "Take it while you can."
I let out a breathless laugh. Maybe this week wouldn't be so bad after all.
Maybe.
Or maybe I had just barely survived round one.
"Well, it's time for me to take over," my mother's sweet voice rang out like a bell—a bell signaling my doom.
I barely had time to sit up before I noticed what she was holding.
A bow. A crystalline, absolutely deadly-looking bow.
I swallowed hard.
Great. Another insane person.
I shot my father a betrayed look. "You really married a woman who can sniper-shot people from miles away?"
Duke smirked. "I have excellent taste."
Eleanor simply smiled, the picture of grace and elegance, but the glint in her eyes? Dangerous.
"This will be a different kind of training from your father's," she assured me, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "Less brute force, more precision and patience. We'll start with a bow and work on your ice magic alongside it."
I sat up fully, staring at the crystalline weapon in her hands. "You want me to shoot things?"
"Yes, dear," she said, way too calmly for someone handing me a murder weapon.
"And…" I pointed at the bow, hesitant. "You're sure about that?"
Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Oh, I'm sure."
Duke chuckled beside me. "Sera, your mother never misses. If there's one thing you should be more terrified of than my sword, it's that bow of hers."
I groaned, rubbing my hands down my face. "Fantastic. Love that for me."
Eleanor handed me a bow of my own, lighter than hers but just as lethal-looking, and gestured toward a row of targets set up in the distance. "Come on, let's see what you can do."
I took the bow hesitantly, rolling my shoulders. "Alright… but if I accidentally shoot my foot, you're not allowed to laugh."
Eleanor's eyes gleamed. "I make no promises."
I'm waiting for the lightning...
I sighed, gripping the bow a little tighter. Alright. How hard could this be?
Just pull back, aim, and release. Simple.
I glanced at the target in the distance—a very, very far distance.
"Mother," I deadpanned, "are we sure this is the beginner range?"
Eleanor smiled, serene as ever. "Oh, of course. If you miss, it just means we start from even further away next time."
I turned my head slowly to look at her. What kind of logic was that?!
Duke, off to the side, outright laughed. "That's my wife!"
"You're both insane," I muttered under my breath.
Eleanor, ignoring my muttering, stepped closer, gently adjusting my grip on the bow. "You're holding it too stiffly. Your hands should be firm, but relaxed."
"Firm but relaxed. Right. That makes sense." It did not make sense.
She gave me a knowing look, as if she could read my thoughts, before continuing. "Now, pull the string back—"
I did. It was harder than I expected.
"—And breathe," she instructed, her voice calm, steady. "Feel the magic around you, Sera. Let it flow into the arrow, let it guide you."
I took a slow breath, feeling the ice magic deep within me stir, like an old friend waking up.
The arrow tip gleamed with frost.
My eyes widened slightly. Whoa.
"Now," Eleanor murmured, "release."
I let go.
The arrow soared through the air, a streak of icy blue against the setting sun.
And—
Thunk.
I stared.
I hit the target. I actually hit the—
Wait.
The target was now frozen solid.
I turned to Eleanor, who was smiling far too proudly for someone who had just witnessed me nearly turn an innocent wooden board into an ice sculpture.
"Well," she said, nodding in approval. "You're definitely my daughter."
Duke whistled from behind us. "That's my girl!"
I gawked at the frozen target. "Did I just— I didn't even mean to—"
Eleanor placed a hand on my shoulder, pleased as can be. "Your magic is responding to your will, Sera. You just need control. And that is what we'll work on next."
I swallowed.
Oh no.
I had unlocked something.
And now my mother was going to make sure I mastered it.
I glanced at the frozen target, then at Eleanor's serene—far too eager—expression.
This… was only the beginning.
Eleanor clapped her hands together, the smile on her face entirely too bright.
"Alright! Let's continue."
"Wait, wait, wait," I waved my hands in protest. "Can I have a moment? Just to process?"
"You have exactly ten seconds."
"Ten seconds?! That's—"
"Ten."
My mother started counting down.
I turned frantically to Duke, my last hope. "Father?"
He crossed his arms, nodding sagely. "This is for your own good, cuddlebug."
I groaned. No, no, no, not the nickname—
"Five," Eleanor continued, unfazed.
I grabbed my head, trying to mentally prepare myself. My magic had responded on its own, with no hesitation. That wasn't normal, right? I mean, I was just a beginner!
I peeked at the frozen target again. Okay, maybe a very dangerous beginner.
"One," Eleanor finished.
"Wait—"
"Time's up!"
Before I could protest, she placed another arrow into my hand, her touch cool and completely unbothered by my distress. "We'll work on controlling the ice magic this time. No freezing the target solid. Try coating only the tip of the arrow instead."
I let out the longest sigh known to mankind.
"Fine, fine. Let's get this over with."
Eleanor beamed.
Duke, amused as ever, called out from behind us, "That's the spirit!"
No. No, it was not.
I reluctantly raised the bow again, pulling back the string.
"Focus," Eleanor reminded. "You don't need to force it. Guide it."
Easier said than done.
I took a slow breath, feeling the ice magic humming beneath my skin, waiting. Almost like it was… ready.
I concentrated, willed it to only coat the tip of the arrow.
A faint frost began forming at the very tip.
Okay. Good. I got this.
"Now, release."
I let go.
Thunk.
The arrow embedded itself into the target, the tip sparkling with frost—but not frozen over this time!
My eyes widened. "Did I… actually control it?"
Eleanor smiled, proud. "You did."
Duke cheered in the background. "Look at that! Only two arrows in and she's already adjusting!"
I exhaled in relief. "Finally. Some progress."
Eleanor nodded approvingly. "Tomorrow, we'll increase the difficulty."
I froze.
"…Excuse me?"
My mother simply patted my shoulder, completely unfazed. "We'll see how well you can use your magic under pressure. Dodging while aiming, moving targets, perhaps even dual-wielding with daggers?"
I stared at her in absolute horror.
Duke, grinning, clapped a hand on my back. "Welcome to the Vandren way, Sera!"
I groaned dramatically, but before I could even attempt to argue, Eleanor spoke up, her voice softer but no less firm.
"But there are other ways to become stronger," she said. "Ways that don't require endless training or battle."
I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. That was… surprising. Considering both of my parents were insane combat experts, I expected them to throw me into more brutal training, not offer me some sage wisdom.
I looked at her, curiosity tugging at my thoughts. "What do you mean?"
Eleanor's expression was gentle, yet filled with certainty. "True strength doesn't come from just magic or weapons, Sera. It comes from having something to protect."
Something to protect.
My breath hitched slightly.
"If you have important things," Eleanor continued, placing a hand over her heart, "and important people—people you truly care about—it'll give you a kind of strength you didn't know you had."
My grip on the bow tightened.
Important people…
My mind flashed—images of Lillian's smile, Camille's teasing smirk, Diana's calculating but fond gaze, Claire's boundless energy, and Tessa's unwavering presence.
I had people.
And suddenly, I understood what she meant.
It wasn't just about becoming stronger for myself.
It was about protecting them too.
Eleanor must have seen the shift in my expression because she smiled knowingly. "You're thinking about them, aren't you?"
I opened my mouth to deny it—because, hello, embarrassing?—but Duke just laughed heartily, clearly seeing through me.
"Oh, cuddlebug, you're so easy to read."
I groaned. "Can we drop the nickname? Seriously?"
Duke ignored me, grinning ear to ear. "So, who's the lucky one, huh? A certain princess, perhaps?"
I choked on air.
Eleanor simply chuckled, entirely too pleased with herself.
I pointed at both of them, horrified. "This. This is exactly why I didn't want you to meet my friends!"
Duke and Eleanor laughed in unison, completely ignoring my protests.
I was never going to survive this week.