"Look at that footwork…truly, he's the North's greatest prodigy."
"He's a natural-born Alpha, isn't he? Look at the way he holds the line."
"Number one in the Academy for three years running, and now he's outperforming the senior knights. A genius of the blade."
"A perfect heir for a perfect line. The Duke must be so proud."
Zarius didn't blink as he blocked a heavy blow from a knight twice his age, his wrist flicking with a precision that sent the man's weapon clattering across the stone. He heard the words, he always heard them, but they felt like ash in his mouth. To him, it wasn't praise. It was a running tab of obligations he hadn't signed up for but was still expected to settle. To the world, he was a god in the making. To himself, he was just a boy trying to outrun a shadow that grew longer with every victory.
