The sun hung low over the palace training grounds, casting warm gold across stone and sand.
Riven adjusted her stance, wooden practice sword resting easily against her shoulder.
Across from her, Princess Lyria tightened her grip on her own sword… far too tightly.
Riven nodded once.
"Relax your shoulders."
Lyria exhaled, unclenching without meaning to smile.
"It's harder than I imagined."
"Combat isn't about strength," Riven replied. "It's about control."
For an hour they moved in circles, soft blows and careful corrections echoing across the yard. Riven's patience, surprisingly gentle, made Lyria's face glow with determination.
Watching from the side was Kara Blackwood, arms crossed, brown eyes gleaming with competitive interest.
When Riven called for a short break, Kara approached with her usual swagger.
"You know…" she said, cracking her knuckles, "I still want that duel."
Riven sighed.
"And you already know my answer."
Kara clicked her tongue.
"What's the point of being strong if you refuse a challenge?"
Lyria laughed softly — a relief after all the tension of the previous days.
"Kara, leave her alone. Riven is teaching me right now."
Kara grinned.
"Then after she's done teaching, she can fight me."
Riven shook her head again, but there was a faint smile this time.
"I said no. And I don't duel nobles unless I must."
Kara froze.
Then:
"…Did she just call me noble?"
Lyria giggled.
"You are a noble, Kara."
Kara groaned loudly, dragging a hand through her short brown hair.
"Ugh. Don't remind me."
And just like that — an easy warmth settled between them all.
It wasn't friendship yet…
but it was the beginning of something steady, something real.
Training continued — footwork, balance drills, controlled strikes.
And between each lesson came quiet conversations:
Lyria: "You always move so silently. Were you trained young?"
Riven: "You could say that."
Kara: "Translation: she won't tell us a damn thing."
Riven: shrugs "Correct."
Kara: "You'd look good in heavy armor."
Riven: "I'd sink into the nearest lake."
Lyria: laughs so hard she trips over her own sword.
By afternoon's end, the three were sitting on the ground eating sweet pastries Lyria had smuggled from the palace kitchens.
It was… peaceful.
Uncomplicated.
Something new for all of them — but especially for Riven.
While laughter filled the training yard, tension coiled elsewhere in the palace.
Behind thick doors, six nobles gathered, voices low but sharp.
"She grows too close to the royal family," one hissed.
"The princess trains with her. The king trusts her."
Another snapped his fan shut.
"If this continues, she will become a protector of the crown."
The man in the corner — a tall, thin noble with cold eyes — spoke quietly:
"We already used one curse to hinder the princess when she was an infant. That should have weakened the royal familyand bloodline for decades."
A silence fell.
A woman leaned forward.
"…That curse was broken. You assured us it was impossible."
The thin noble clenched his jaw.
"It was impossible."
"Unless," another whispered,
"someone powerful interfered."
"The girl," the thin noble snarled.
"That hunter. That stranger. She is the variable we did not account for."
Tension crackled.
"What do we do?"
The thin noble's gaze sharpened like a blade.
"We watch her. We study her. And when the time comes… we eliminate her."
Unbeknownst to them, a silent ripple of darkness curled in the far corner of the room
Morrivayne.
Hidden.
Observing.
"My, my…"
Her whisper slithered with amusement.
"Plans within plans. How delightfully fragile these humans are."
She didn't intervene.
Not yet.
She simply vanished into the dark—
leaving only the nobles' fear behind.
on the training field..
Riven watched Lyria try to imitate her stance again.
Kara shouted encouragement from behind.
And for the first time in a long time…
Riven felt something warm inside her.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But something like it.
Something dangerous —
and beautiful .