A few days had passed since Grim's saw his legacy. His muscles ached from the relentless training regimen Rowan had implemented. His new training was doubled. Light mana was proving to be a stubborn bitch to control, nothing like how water mana was easy for him.
"Have you gotten Princess Liona a gift yet?" Rowan asked during their morning training session, casually tossing the question out while Grim struggled through his fiftieth stance transition.
"Of course, of course," Grim replied without missing a beat. "That would be rude if i didnt buy her a gift."
Rowan stared at him. Clearly he didnt belive him.
"Yeah, your right," Grim admitted. "I haven't gotten shit for her."
Rowan sighed. "The ball is less than three weeks away. It would be a serious insult to attend without a gift for the princess. Especially given our... special position."
"Fine," Grim groaned, lowering his practice sword. "We'll go shopping or whatever. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," Rowan deadpanned. "We'll go this afternoon. I'll cover the costs."
Grim wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Speaking of money, do you have a plan for pur future. Can't rebuild the Ambrose fortune if we stay in the castle forever."
A shadow crossed Rowan's face. "Not yet. Our family's wealth was... redistributed during our exile. Reclaiming it will take time."
"So we're broke," Grim translated flatly.
"We're managing," Rowan corrected. "Now finish your forms. We leave after lunch."
Later that day,
The market district busy with chatter from passing citizens. Merchants were bousting about their product. Customers were trying to haggle the prices. Glass windows showed off the most expensive products.
Grim didn't bother to look at the confectioner's shop. The sweet smell didn't make him want to go in to the store.
"What do you even get for a princess?" he muttered. "She probably already has everything."
"Something thoughtful," Rowan suggested unhelpfully. "Something that shows you've considered her interests."
"I don't know shit about her interests," Grim pointed out. "Except that she likes being annoying and following me around."
They passed several more shops—a bookshop, a jeweler's with guards posted outside, a tailor measuring a fat merchant for new robes. Nothing seemed right.
"There," Rowan finally said, pointing to a shop with a sign that simply read "One Stop."
"They specialize in everything. We should be able to something for your girlfriend."
The interior of One Stop was a chaotic mess of shelves and display cases. Everything was crammed tightly next to eachother. Jewelry sat beside cookware, books next to children's toys, and weapons alongside perfumes.
"Split up," Rowan suggested. "We'll cover more ground. Look for something appropriate."
Grim wandered down an aisle, barely looking at the merchandise. A crystal ball that supposedly showed the weather (useless). A set of enchanted hair combs (stupid). A miniature portrait frame that played music when opened (boring as fuck).
He turned a corner and nearly collided with a small figure examining a display of ornate daggers.
"Watch it," Grim snapped automatically.
The girl turned around. Revealing a small cute face with freckles. Her hair was jet-black and wavy that went down to her shoulders. She couldn't have been more than eight years old. But she seemed to be a very condifent young lady. her dark brown eyes looked Grim up and down.
[Two mana hearts at approximately 65% capacity each. Light affinity,] the voice in Grim's head observed. [Impressive for her age.]
"You're cute," the girl declared without preamble, her gaze sweeping over Grim's black and red attire. "Not a commoner, obviously. Noble?"
Grim blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. "Yeah. House Ambrose."
"Never heard of it," she replied with a shrug. "But you're definitely not boring like most of the boys I meet."
"Uh, thanks?" Grim wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such forward assessment, especially from a kid.
The girl stepped closer, completely unintimidated. "Are you going to the Imperial Ball?"
"Unfortunately," Grim confirmed.
A smile spread across her face, revealing perfect white teeth. "Good. You'll dance with me."
It wasn't a question. Grim found himself strangely amused by her audacity. "Pretty bold of you to assume I dance."
"I don't ask for things," she replied, tilting her chin up. "I just take what I want. And I want you to dance with me."
[She reminds me of someone,] the voice commented.
"Shut up," Grim thought back.
"Are you talking to someone else in your head?" the girl asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Before Grim could respond, a woman's voice called out from several aisles over. "Darling? Where did you go?"
The girl rolled her eyes. "That's my mother. Remember, you owe me a dance." She turned to leave, then paused. "By the way, you should buy her the silver hairpin with the sapphire. Girls like shiny things that match their eyes."
With that, she disappeared into the labyrinth of merchandise, leaving Grim standing there wondering what the hell had just happened.
"Make a friend?" Rowan asked, appearing beside him.
"I don't make friends," Grim retorted. "Some weird kid was talking to me."
"Did you get her name?"
Grim frowned. "No. It didn't seem important at the time."
Rowan held up a small package wrapped in blue paper. "Found something suitable. A book of traditional imperial poetry with illustrations. Educational and appropriately respectful."
"Sounds boring as shit," Grim commented. "She'll hate it."
"Which is precisely why I'm choosing it and not you," Rowan replied as they headed to the counter to pay.
Their walk back to the castle was interrupted when a group of three men stepped into their path. They wore the fine clothing of nobility, though not of the highest quality. The lead man, portly with a neatly trimmed beard, sneered as he recognized Rowan.
"Well, well. The exile returns. Rowan van Ambrose, crawling back to the capital after what, six years?"
Rowan's expression remained neutral. "Lord Terras. A pleasure, as always."
"I hear you're living off the Empress's charity these days," another of the men commented. "How the mighty have fallen. House Ambrose, once the pride of the empire, now barely more than beggars."
"And this must be the failure," Terras said, his gaze shifting to Grim. "The boy who couldn't even manifest a proper affinity until he was five. Late bloomer doesn't quite cover it, does it?"
Grim felt heat rising in his chest, but not from embarrassment. Pure, undiluted rage.
"Grim, let's move along," Rowan said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "These gentlemen aren't worth our time."
"Oh, listen to him," the third man laughed. "Still puts on airs like he's something special. Your family is finished, Ambrose. The days when your name meant something are long gone."
[Their mana capacities are pathetic,] the voice supplied helpfully. [The fat one has two mana hearts at 40% each. The others have only a single heart each, barely filled. Water, earth, and fire affinity. Weak. Unrefined.]
Grim smiled, slow and vicious. "You know what's funny? You think you're so much better than us, but I can see exactly how pathetic you all are."
"Grim—" Rowan warned, but Grim shrugged off his hand.
"Two mana hearts at less than half capacity," Grim said, pointing at Terras. "And you two shits only have one each. Barely filled, too. Fucking embarrassing."
The men's faces darkened with anger and shock.
"How dare you—" Terras began.
"How dare I what? Point out that you're weak pieces of shit trying to act important?" Grim's smile widened. "You're not even upper nobility. Just poor fuckers playing at being something you're not. I bet you got a small dick. Thats why you have to hang out with a bunch of little dicks. Can't even get your wife off."
"You insolent little—"
"And your kids," Grim continued, warming to his subject. "I bet they're just as pathetic. Probably struggling to even form their first heart while you push them to be something they'll never be. Must suck, knowing your bloodline is getting weaker with each generation. No wonder you're so bitter."
Terras's face had turned an alarming shade of purple. "You filthy-mouthed brat! I'll have you—"
The rest of his threat disappeared as mist suddenly swirled around them, thick and impenetrable. Grim felt his father's hand grab his arm, pulling him into the fog. The Ethereal Mist technique, combined with the Drifting Mist Steps, allowed them to vanish from sight, leaving the sputtering nobles behind.
"That wasn't necessary," Rowan said as they reappeared several streets away, the mist dissipating around them.
Grim was grinning from ear to ear. "Maybe not necessary, but fucking satisfying."
"You've made enemies today."
"They were already enemies," Grim pointed out. "At least now they know not to fuck with me."
Rowan sighed, but didn't argue further.
[Thinking about your girlfriend?] the voice teased.
"She's eight, you pervert," Grim thought back. "And I don't do girlfriends."
[Keep telling yourself that.]
"Shut up," Grim muttered aloud.
"I didn't say anything," Rowan replied.
Grim just scowled and kept walking, the princess's gift swinging in its package from his hand.