(The Royal Palace of Velmoria)
Eyan returned to the palace after meeting Luca and went straight to his study. The long corridors were quiet, lit only by the soft glow of wall torches. The moment he stepped inside, he loosened his gloves and sat down in his chair, letting out a slow breath.
Just then, a knock sounded.
“Enter,” Eyan said.
Hans stepped inside and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty. I was waiting for you to return. You came back later than expected.”
Eyan straightened slightly. “I went to meet Luca at the Magic Tower. That is why I was delayed. Why? Is something the matter?”
Hans lowered his voice. “Prince Velco has formally requested a sparring match with you. He is currently waiting at the training ground.”
“A sparring match?” Eyan repeated, clearly surprised. His fingers paused against the armrest. “With me?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Eyan leaned back, studying the ceiling as if weighing the meaning behind the request.
“That is… unexpected.” A faint smile touched his lips, but his eyes remained thoughtful. “I did not think the prince would be interested in crossing swords today.”
He rose from his chair. “Very well. If he has gone through the trouble of waiting, I will not refuse.”
Eyan began walking toward the door, his cloak swaying with each step.
“Your Majesty.” Hans’s voice stopped him.
Eyan paused and turned back, one brow lifting slightly. “What is it?”
Hans glanced toward Eyan’s chest, then met his eyes again.
“You should leave your wedding ring behind before you go for sparring.”
Eyan’s hand instinctively rose to the chain around his neck. His fingers brushed against the cold metal, and he exhaled softly, a faint crease forming between his brows.
“…Ah,” he murmured, a hint of self-reproach in his tone. “I forgot about that.”
He slowly unclasped the chain and pulled it free, the ring sliding into his palm. For a brief moment, he looked down at it, his expression unreadable. Then he held it out to Hans.
“Put this in the drawer for me,” he said quietly.
Hans accepted it with care, nodded, and walked to the desk. He placed the ring inside the drawer and closed it gently.
He turned back and bowed. “Everything is secured, Your Majesty.”
Eyan gave a small nod. “Good. Let’s go.”
Together, they left the study, their footsteps echoing down the corridor as they made their way toward the training ground.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Royal Palace Training Ground)
The training ground was alive with tension.
Knights lined the edges of the wide arena, armor gleaming under the open sky. The sound of steel and distant commands faded the moment Eyan stepped inside.
All knights immediately bowed their heads.
Eyan entered dressed in simple training attire, his presence alone commanding silence.
Prince Velco, who had been standing near the weapon rack, turned at once. He stepped forward and bowed gracefully.
“Greetings, Your Majesty.”
Eyan inclined his head.
“Greetings, Prince Velco. I apologize for making you wait.”
Velco smiled, a polite curve of his lips that did not quite reach his eyes.
“You need not apologize, Your Majesty. I am well aware of how busy you are.” He placed a hand over his chest. “I am simply honored that you took time from your schedule to spar with me.”
Eyan studied him carefully.
“I was surprised when Hans informed me of your request,” he said calmly. “Is there a reason you wished to spar with me today?”
Velco’s gaze flickered for a moment—sharp, curious—before he answered.
“I will be leaving for Dravareth in five days. I thought it would be a shame to depart Velmoria without crossing swords with its emperor at least once.”
Eyan smiled faintly. “You are leaving already? You are welcome to stay longer, Prince. Velmoria would not mind extending its hospitality.”
Velco shook his head. “Thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty, but I cannot.” His tone softened. “I received a message from my father. He requires my presence for important matters.”
“I see,” Eyan replied. “Then I wish you a safe journey when the time comes.”
Velco’s smile widened slightly. “Before that… shall we begin?”
Eyan reached for a sword offered by one of the knights. He rolled it once in his hand, testing its balance, then stepped into position.
“I hope you are ready, Prince Velco.”
Velco selected his own blade and moved opposite him, his stance precise and confident.
“I am ready, Your Majesty.”
--------------------------------------------------------
(One hour later)
Prince Velco crashed to the ground, his breath ragged, dust rising beneath him as his back hit the stone floor. His chest heaved violently as he struggled to inhale.
Eyan stood over him, unmoving.
The tip of Eyan’s sword hovered just inches from Velco’s throat—close enough that one careless breath would have drawn blood.
For a moment, the entire training ground was silent.
Velco swallowed hard, then let out a weak, breathless laugh.
“Your… Majesty,” he said between gasps, raising one hand in surrender. “Let’s end this here. I lost… again.”
Eyan’s expression remained calm, almost indifferent. Slowly, deliberately, he withdrew his sword and lowered it to his side.
The tension broke.
Eyan extended his hand toward Velco.
Velco looked at it for a second—studying the steady grip, the unshaken calm—before taking it. With Eyan’s help, he pulled himself up to his feet, dust clinging to his clothes.
Velco let out a tired breath and shook his head with a crooked smile.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“Your Majesty… seriously,” he said, half amused, half frustrated. “I couldn’t win against you. Not even once.”
He lifted his gaze, eyes sharp despite his exhaustion.
“Is there truly a way to take you down?”
Eyan’s lips curved into a faint smile, controlled and confident.
“Prince,” he said evenly, “if you wish to take me down, you must first find my weakness.” His eyes met Velco’s without wavering. “Then strike.”
Velco let out a low chuckle and ran a hand through his hair.
“I was trying,” he admitted. “I watched your movements, your breathing, your stance… but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find a single weakness.”
Eyan’s smile deepened—just slightly.
“That’s because,” he said calmly, “I don’t a weakness.”
Velco burst into laughter, though there was a sharp edge beneath it.
“Then I suppose I will never be able to defeat you.”
Eyan smiled in response, saying nothing.
Velco straightened, regaining his composure, and stepped back.
“Your Majesty,” he said sincerely, “I should go and rest now. Thank you for sparring with me today.”
He bowed deeply. “Let us meet again.”
Eyan inclined his head. “Let’s meet again.”
Velco turned and walked away from the training ground, his steps steady—but his eyes dark with thought.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Prince Velco’s Chamber)
The door burst open.
Prince Velco stormed inside his chamber and slammed the door shut behind him, the heavy sound echoing against the stone walls. His chest rose and fell once—controlled, restrained—before his expression settled into something dark and unreadable.
From the shadows near the far pillar, a figure moved.
The spy stepped forward silently and dropped to one knee before him. “Your Highness.”
Velco did not turn around. “Did you find anything?”
The spy hesitated.
“I searched the emperor’s study thoroughly,” he said carefully. “There was nothing of importance… except this.”
From his pocket, he drew out a chain. A ring hung from it, swaying slightly as it caught the candlelight.
Velco turned at last. His eyes narrowed as they fell upon the ring.
“…What is this?” His voice was cold, displeased. “Is this all you managed to find while I kept the emperor occupied with sparring?”
The spy lowered his head but held the chain steady.
“Your Highness, this ring is no ordinary ring. There is magic bound to it—strong magic.”
Velco scoffed softly.
“Do you take me for a fool?” His gaze sharpened. “I knew the moment I saw it that it carried a disguise spell. But what of it?”
The spy swallowed.
“Your Highness… why would the emperor keep a ring with disguise magic hidden inside his drawer? Why would he need something like this?” He hesitated, then continued, “Don’t you find that suspicious?”
Velco’s expression turned icy. “There is nothing suspicious about it, you idiot.”
He turned away, hands clasped behind his back. “From time to time, an emperor must walk among his people to see the true state of his kingdom. He cannot do that wearing a crown.”
Velco glanced back at the spy. “A simple disguise spell allows him to blend into the streets as an ordinary man. Every ruler keeps something like that.”
His tone hardened just slightly. “Even my father has one.......Do you understand now?”
The spy stiffened. “I… I apologize, Your Highness. I it might be something important, so I brought it.”
Velco’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “You should not unless I command you to.”
He turned away, voice dropping into a deadly whisper. “Return that ring to exactly where you found it—before the emperor realizes it is missing.”
Velco glanced back over his shoulder, eyes glinting. “Or we will both die today.”
The spy’s face drained of color. “At once, Your Highness.”
He bowed deeply, clutched the chain tightly, and hurried out of the chamber without another word.
Prince Velco took a slow, measured breath and settled into the chair. “It seems I won’t learn anything more from the Emperor,” he said calmly.
His gaze drifted toward the window, unfocused yet intent. “If I wish to understand their relationship…”
a faint pause,
“…then I will have to meet Lady Eva myself.”
A small, unreadable smile touched his lips.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Two days later)
(Velmoria Market — Evening)
The market glowed under hanging lanterns, the air filled with the scent of baked bread and sweet fruits. Kyel walked beside Eva, one hand holding hers, the other carrying bags filled with fresh apples, pears, dried figs, honey jars, milk bread, nuts, and herbal tonics prepared for expectant mothers.
Eva let out a long sigh as she glanced at the growing pile. “Honey… you’re buying too much.”
Kyel didn’t even slow down. “Princess, it’s not too much. You’re supposed to finish all this within a week.” He added calmly, “I’ll buy more once you do.”
Eva stopped walking and stared at him. “All this for one week?” she exclaimed softly. “I thought this was for two months. Kyel, I can’t possibly eat all of this in seven days.”
Kyel turned to face her, his expression firm but gentle. “You have to,” he said. “You’re not eating alone anymore. You’re carrying our child—and this is good for both of you.”
Eva shook her head stubbornly. “No. I’m not eating all of it.”
Kyel sighed, leaning closer, his voice lowering. “Princess…”
Just then, three men came running from the opposite side of the crowded street, laughing loudly as they shoved past the evening crowd.
One of them slammed hard into Eva’s shoulder.
She gasped as her balance gave way, her body tipping backward.
“Eva—!” Kyel moved instantly.
His arm wrapped around her waist before she could fall, pulling her firmly against his chest. The bags in his other hand hit the ground as he steadied her, his grip tight, protective.
“Are you okay?” he asked urgently, his voice low and strained.
Eva winced slightly and touched her shoulder. “I’m fine,” she said, forcing a small smile. “It just hurts a little.”
Kyel’s jaw clenched. He turned sharply toward the men, fury blazing in his eyes.
“Watch where you’re going, you blind idiots!”
The laughter behind them stopped.
All three men turned around and walked back toward Kyel, their expressions darkening as they took in his plain clothes.
One of them stepped forward, sneering. “What did you just say?”
Kyel didn’t flinch. “I said watch where you’re going blind Idiots,” he repeated coldly. “Because of you, my wife is hurt.”
The man laughed mockingly and glanced at Eva. “My apologies, my lady,” he said with false politeness. “Are you injured?”
He lifted his hand, reaching toward Eva’s shoulder. “Is it here that—”
Kyel caught his wrist mid-air. His grip was iron-tight. “Keep your filthy hands away from my wife,” Kyel snarled.
The man hissed in pain, struggling against Kyel’s hold. “Hey—let go!” he shouted. “How dare a commoner like you act brave in front of a noble!”
Eva’s heart pounded. “Kyel,” she said quickly, gripping his sleeve. “Let him go. He’s a noble—”
Kyel didn’t even look at her.
“Apologize to my wife,” he said, voice dangerously calm. “Right now.”
The man laughed through clenched teeth. “And what if I don’t?” he sneered. “What are you going to do?”
Kyel’s eyes darkened. “What am I going to do?” he repeated.
He released the man’s wrist just long enough to draw back his fist.
Eva gasped and rushed behind him, grabbing his arm with both hands.
“Kyel, stop! Let him go!”
“Eva, let go,” Kyel said tightly without turning. “You’ll get hurt.”
“No,” she said, her voice shaking. “First—let him go. Please.”
His fist remained raised, muscles taut, trembling with restrained violence.
Eva swallowed and spoke again, firmer this time despite her fear. “KYEL. I SAID LET HIM GO. DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME?”
Kyel finally turned.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide—and her body was trembling in fear, not of the men, but of what he might do.
Something shifted. The rage in his eyes froze, cracking at the sight of her.
Slowly, painfully, Kyel loosened his grip. The man collapsed onto the ground with a startled cry, clutching his wrist. He scrambled backward, scrambling to his feet as his companions rushed to help him.
“Let’s go!” one of them hissed.
They ran off into the crowd, disappearing as quickly as they had arrived.
Eva finally released Kyel’s hand.
Kyel wrapped his arms around her briefly, steadying her against him. “I’m sorry for acting like that in front of you… are you alright?” His voice was low, threaded with concern.
Eva nodded, her fingers brushing his chest. “Yes…”
He pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes. “Let’s go home.”
Eva returned the nod, and Kyel bent to pick up the scattered bags, slinging them over his arm. Together, they began walking through the bustling market.
Just then, a familiar voice called from behind.
Both of them froze.
Eva instinctively bowed, her posture polite and composed. “Greetings, Your Highness, Prince Velco.”
Prince Velco approached, his eyes scanning her carefully.
“Lady Eva, I saw what happened… are you alright?”
Eva smiled lightly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes, I’m fine, Your Highness.”
Prince Velco’s gaze flicked toward Kyel, who remained stiff and quiet at her side. His eyes narrowed slightly, curious.
“And this gentleman—who might he be, Lady Eva?”
Eva gave a small tug on Kyel’s arm, keeping him close. “Your Highness, he’s my husband.”
Kyel inclined his head respectfully. “Greetings, Your Highness. My name is Kyel.”
Prince Velco’s eyes lingered on Eva, a subtle curiosity glinting in them. Kyel’s hand moved instinctively, covering the wedding ring on her finger with his own, hiding it from view.
Eva tilted her head, offering a polite smile. “Your Highness, what brings a prince like you to the market?”
Prince Velco returned the smile, easy and casual. “I was just wandering… I like seeing places like this.”
His gaze flickered back to Eva with genuine concern.
“How is your injury, Lady Eva? You were hurt during the hunting competition, weren’t you?”
Eva’s smile widened faintly. “It’s better now, Your Highness. Thank you for asking.”
“Good to hear that,” he said, his voice softening.
Then Prince Velco’s eyes subtly roamed over Kyel, who instinctively lowered his head, feeling his pulse quicken under the prince’s steady gaze.
After a pause, Velco inclined his head politely. “Lady Eva, I should take my leave now.”
Both Eva and Kyel bowed in unison as the prince turned and walked away, blending into the crowd.
Kyel exhaled slowly, his eyes following Velco’s retreating figure.
Eva nudged his arm gently. “Let’s go home, honey.”
Kyel nodded, sling over his shoulder, and together they continued down the lantern-lit street, the market fading behind them.
--------------------------------------------------------
Prince Velco walked slowly through the market, the lanterns casting long shadows across his face. A faint, knowing smile curved his lips.
“He tried to hide his wife’s ring from me,” he murmured under his breath, eyes glinting, “but… forgot to hide his own.”
He allowed himself a small, satisfied chuckle, the sound quiet but sharp. “It was… good to meet you, Kyel.....Or should I call you…”
His smile widened, chillingly calm.
Velco’s footsteps continued, deliberate, each one echoing with the weight of the truth he had just uncovered—and the plans already forming in his mind.

