As the first light of dawn spilled through the trees, I gripped my wooden sword tightly, feeling the rough weight in my hands. Across from me, Grandpa stood barefoot, arms crossed, waiting. He didn't have a weapon—he never needed one.
I lunged first, aiming for his ribs. He swayed just enough to avoid it, then slammed his foot forward. I barely dodged before twisting to strike again, but he was already behind me.
"Too slow," he muttered, shoving me forward.
I staggered but didn't fall. My grip tightened. My heart pounded. I didn't know why, but I felt stronger—like something inside me had woken up. The air around me felt different.
I attacked again. Faster. Stronger. Every move was sharper, heavier, almost too much for my own body to handle. Grandpa's feet shifted—he actually moved. That had never happened before.
He noticed it too.
I struck high—he blocked. I feinted low—he dodged. I saw an opening, so I threw everything I had into one final strike.
And in an instant, he grabbed my head and slammed me into the dirt.
The world spun. My chest heaved. It was over.
Grandpa sighed above me. He wasn't looking at me like I'd lost. He was looking at me like he was… worried.
"This is training, Kibo, not an execution," he said quietly.
I clenched my fists, staring at the ground. I felt different. My body, my mind—something was changing, and I didn't know if I liked it.
"I don't know what's happening to me, Grandpa…" My voice came out small. "Something feels wrong. I don't feel like myself."
Grandpa's fingers curled slightly. His expression darkened. His thoughts were heavy.
His mother… what is she thinking? I know she really loves him, but isn't this too much?
He exhaled through his nose, then suddenly ruffled my hair. "Don't worry, kid," he said, voice lighter. Then, with a teasing smirk— "Just don't start crying in front of a girl."
I scowled. "I'M NOT CRYING!"
He just chuckled. "That's the spirit."
Lily had been watching from a tree stump. She sat with her hands in her lap, quiet and careful, her black eyes following everything. As Grandpa dusted himself off, she stood and walked toward us, hesitant but curious.
"Are you both done training, Grandpa?" she asked softly.
Grandpa crouched slightly and smiled. "Yeah, little one. We're done."
Lily blushed and fidgeted, hiding her face a little behind her hands. He just laughed and patted her head. She liked that. I could tell.
Then, Grandpa looked at her more seriously. "Is your brother feeling better?"
She nodded. "Yes… he is. But he's still weak."
Grandpa placed a hand on his hip. "Don't worry. He'll be fine." Then he stretched and turned toward the house. "I'll be back—I need to grab something inside."
Then, like it was nothing, he smirked at us over his shoulder.
"You two should chat."
And then he was gone.
I stared at the door, my mind blank. Lily shuffled a little, her hands twisting in her tunic.
Silence.
I should say something.
"…So. Uh. You like training?"
She shook her head quickly. "No."
I blinked. Well. That wasn't helpful.
Lily hesitated, then looked at me with a small, quiet smile. "Grandpa loves you a lot."
I frowned. "Yeah… I guess he does." Then, without really thinking, I added, "He'll love you too. You're family now."
Her breath caught.
And then, suddenly, she teared up.
"W-wait! What did I say? Did I say something wrong?"
She shook her head. Then, out of nowhere, she hugged me.
I froze. My face went hot.
"Wh-what are you doing?!"
She pulled back, tilting her head. "Are you okay? Your face is all red."
"I—I'm not red!"
She raised her hand to my forehead, her touch light. I was about to shove her hand away—
And that's when Grandpa walked back outside.
He stopped. Looked at us. Then smirked.
"Oh? I didn't see anything."
"It's NOT what you think, Grandpa!" I yelled, jumping away so fast I nearly fell.
"Sure, sure." He slung an axe over his shoulder, still grinning. "I'm off to get breakfast."
Then, as he passed, he casually dropped a bomb.
"Oh, and by the way—"
He smirked.
"You'll both be getting a nanny soon."
Lily and I exchanged wide-eyed looks.
"A… nanny?" we said at the same time.
What did that even mean?!
The palace of Balmount City buzzed with the usual morning energy. Maids moved swiftly through the halls, their polished shoes clicking lightly against the marble floors. Everything was in order—shelves dusted, fresh flowers arranged, breakfast trays prepared. The scent of warm bread and tea filled the air.
In the courtyard, the morning sun gleamed on the neatly arranged weapons—swords, shields, spears, bows. The maids passing by stole amused glances at the two figures in the center.
King Thorn crouched beside his young daughter, his regal purple-tinted black hair catching the light. His amber eyes held warmth as he adjusted Sylphira's grip on the miniature bow. "Steady, my little warrior," he murmured.
Sylphira's tiny arms trembled as she tried to pull back the bowstring. "Papa, it's too hard…"
He smiled, placing his hands over hers, guiding her. "Hard? Nonsense. You are my daughter. Strength runs in your blood."
Sylphira bit her lip, taking a deep breath. Then—she let go. The arrow whizzed through the air and struck the target—not the center, but close.
Her eyes widened. "Papa! Did you see?"
Thorn let out a proud laugh and scooped her up, spinning her around. "You did it! Your first shot!"
Sylphira giggled, burying her face in his shoulder.
And then—
"You shouldn't spoil her like that, my love."
Sylphira's laughter cut off immediately. She stiffened, peeking out from behind her father's shoulder. Her golden locks trembled slightly as she caught sight of her mother.
The queen approached, the morning light catching in her golden hair. Her violet eyes were unreadable as she walked with effortless grace, an emerald gown hugging her form. Behind her, Rosette followed quietly.
Thorn turned, still holding Sylphira. "Spoil her? My queen, I am merely encouraging her natural talents."
The queen's eyes flicked to the bow still clutched in Sylphira's tiny hands. "She's a princess, not a soldier. You don't need to train her like one."
Sylphira gripped her father's tunic, her wide amber eyes darting between her parents. She didn't dare speak.
Thorn chuckled, setting her down gently. "Go on, little warrior. Eat your breakfast before your mother decides I need another lecture."
Sylphira hesitated for a second, looking at her mother nervously. Then, when the queen arched a delicate brow, she jumped into action. She rushed over to Rosette, clutching the maid's hand tightly.
"Come along, Princess," Rosette said softly, leading her away. Sylphira glanced back at her father just once. Thorn shot her a playful wink and mouthed, You did great.
A small smile crept onto Sylphira's face before she hurried inside with Rosette.
Once she was gone, the queen exhaled. "Must you encourage her?"
Thorn smirked. "Must you always be so breathtaking this early in the morning?"
The queen sighed. "I should've known you'd turn this into flirting."
"I can't help it. You walk toward me, and suddenly, my mind is filled with things that are most definitely not appropriate for morning conversations." His voice dropped slightly, teasing. "Or maybe they are, depending on your mood."
She shot him a look. "You have no shame."
Thorn stepped closer. "Why should I? I'm married to the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. If I don't shower her in affection, who will?"
She folded her arms. "You act like the court doesn't already think you're obsessed with me."
"I am obsessed with you." He took her hand, pressing a slow kiss to her knuckles. His lips lingered just long enough to make her breath hitch. "Deeply. Hopelessly. You should be grateful."
She arched a brow. "Grateful?"
"Oh yes. Do you know how many women in this kingdom would kill to have me looking at them the way I look at you?"
She scoffed, but he caught the tiny smile she was trying to hide.
He leaned in, voice dropping lower. "It's still early, my love. There's time for me to take you back to bed."
She placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back. "Not happening."
"Are you sure? I can be very convincing." His hands trailed down her sides, fingers brushing over the curve of her waist. "I'd start with soft kisses, just here—" he pressed a kiss just beneath her ear, his voice turning husky. "Then I'd—"
"Thorn." She swatted him away, though her cheeks were noticeably pink.
He sighed dramatically. "You never let me have any fun."
She shook her head. "Speaking of fun, I received this letter from the countess." She pressed the envelope into his chest. "It seems your friend has stirred up trouble again."
Thorn's face lit up as he read. "Oh, this is fantastic news."
The queen narrowed her eyes. "I fail to see what's fantastic about it."
Thorn grinned. "He's challenging me to a duel."
The queen immediately grabbed his sleeve. "No."
He groaned. "Oh, come on, my love—"
"No."
"But I've been waiting so long!"
She leveled him with a stare. "Didn't you say you didn't want him to get into trouble? That any news of him should be kept quiet?"
Thorn sighed dramatically. "Yes, but that was before he challenged me. Now it's personal."
"No."
"Just a small fight?"
"No."
"A tiny duel?"
"No."
Thorn let out a heavy sigh. "You're heartless, my love."
"And you're a child," she replied flatly.
Thorn smirked. "A child wouldn't know how to make you blush like this."
Her expression remained unreadable, but the pink on her cheeks betrayed her. "I have things to do."
Thorn followed as she turned away, grinning. "So do I. Mainly, convincing my stubborn wife to let me ravish her properly before noon."
"Not happening."
"Are you sure? I'm very persistent."
She glanced back at him with a knowing smile. "I know exactly what you're capable of, dear."
Thorn smirked. "Then you know resistance is pointless."
She walked away, leaving him standing in the courtyard with a cocky grin.
He chuckled to himself. "That woman will be the death of me."