Morning unfolded slowly, as if winter itself was tired.
Weak sunlight crept along the stone walls of Rudura's room, slipping through narrow window slits. Every breath he exhaled clouded the air like smoke.
He sat up, muscles screaming from last night's training. His hands felt stiff, palms slightly bruised.
"…Haaah."
He cracked his fingers.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
The sound echoed in the quiet room.
After washing his face with cold water from a copper bowl, he shivered. Droplets stung like tiny needles. Winter didn't forgive.
He tied his hair loosely and wore a thick training coat, then stepped into the corridor.
The palace interior was unusually silent. Winter holidays meant a break from schedules. Guards leaned against stone pillars, warming hands near small braziers. Their armor looked duller today, breath fogging in the cold.
Rudura's boots tapped softly:
Tap…tap…tap…
He walked past tall curtains, stiff from cold wind pushing against them. Servants whispered among themselves, hiding in corners where braziers warmed the air.
"Young master Rudura!"
A maid hurried forward and bowed softly.
"Breakfast is served in the western hall. Please follow the warm corridors, the eastern side is freezing today."
Rudura gave a small nod, "Thank you."
As he walked, frost crawled along the edges of the glass windows, forming delicate white lines.
He entered the hall.
Chandragupta sat at the head, cloak heavy over his shoulders. Queen Devi sipped slowly from a steaming porcelain cup. The smell of spiced tea spread warmly.
Rudura bowed,
"Good morning."
Chandragupta's eyes narrowed slightly,
"You look tired. Late night training again?"
Rudura hesitated,
"…Winter makes cutting harder. I'm adapting."
A faint smirk appeared on the King's lips,
"Good. The world doesn't always give perfect conditions."
Queen Devi smiled kindly,
"But don't harm your growth. Health is also important."
They ate simple winter dishes broth, bread, roasted root vegetables. Warm steam filled Rudura's lungs and loosened his arms.
After breakfast, Chandragupta placed his cup down,
"In 3 months, your year end assessments begin. Swordsmanship, stance evaluation, historical memorisation, and mental discipline."
Rudura nodded. His heartbeat tightened.
"If you pass with perfect marks," the King continued, "you may request the reward you asked for."
Rudura bowed deeply,
"I will earn it."
After excusing himself, Rudura headed to the empty training grounds.
Outside, winter wind bit his face.
Hooosh…
The courtyard ground was cold and solid, frost hugging its cracks. Practice dummies stood like silent soldiers. No trainees, no noise.
Rudura unsheathed his sword.
He stepped forward
Shua!
The slash shook the dummy, leaving a single line of shaved wood. The sound snapped sharply in the empty space.
He moved again.
Shua! Shua! Shua!
Each swing echoed differently. The cold warped sound. Frost dust puffed into the air with every impact.
Small wooden chips scattered across the ground.
Rudura's arms warmed slowly. His breath fogged heavily.
After many strikes, he stopped, panting.
Then footsteps entered.
Tap…tap…tap…
Malavatas emerged, cloak fluttering. His breath didn't fog; he controlled it too well.
"Holiday and yet you swing a sword?"
Rudura smirked,
"Habit."
Malavatas approached, placing two fingers on a damaged dummy line.
"Adaptation to difficult climate improves precision. You are learning."
Rudura wiped sweat,
"Would Échecs Humains help too?"
Malavatas's eyebrow twitched,
"You are not ready. The book breaks those who rush."
Rudura swallowed.
"Then I'll rush perfectly."
Malavatas exhaled slowly,
"Pass with perfect grades… and perhaps we talk."
He turned away,
"And beware, hunger for knowledge draws predators."
His footsteps faded.
Rudura stared at his back, a chill crawling up his spine.
After a short break, Rudura walked toward the palace library. He didn't enter only passed near it.
Two guards stood there today.
Their posture was stiff. Alert.
Rudura narrowed his eyes.
More guards than usual…?
He moved along.
In the palace garden, dry brown leaves clung to branches. A frozen pond reflected dull grey sky. When wind slid across the surface
Krrr… krr…
Thin ice cracked softly.
Rudura sat on a stone bench. It was freezing.
He watched a leaf fall, twisting in the cold breeze until landing near his boot.
Hours drifted slowly. Peace felt thin , the type that hides something underneath.
As evening came, lanterns lit the corridors. Their glass covers rattled in the cold wind.
Clink… clink…
Rudura walked back toward his room. Tiredness weighed on his legs. He stopped near the private library door again.
Another guard had joined. Three now.
Rudura frowned.
Why increase protection unless something… changed?
He reached his room, opened the door, and stepped inside.
He took off his coat, collapsed on the bed. Muscles throbbed with dull ache. His knuckles pulsed.
Silence.
He closed his eyes.
But just as sleep began swallowing him
A faint metallic sound echoed from somewhere beyond the corridor.
Clack.
His eyes snapped open.
Was someone moving near the private library?
He sat up slowly.
Another sound.
Ting…
A soft metal tap, like tools against a lock.
Rudura's heart raced.
…Is someone trying to access Échecs Humains?
He stood silently near his window, hiding behind the curtain.
The corridor outside was dim. But in the distance
A shadow moved.
It paused at the turn, hooded, cloaked.
And then…
It disappeared.
Rudura's breath stayed locked in his throat.
He whispered to himself,
"…Tomorrow won't be peaceful."
Winter's wind howled loudly outside
Hweeeeeeee…
as if warning him.
(Continued in Chapter 46)