The engagement banquet stretched long into the night, a dazzling display of wealth and power. Gold-trimmed chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables laden with extravagant dishes—roasted pheasant, candied fruits, and goblets filled with the finest Etrilian wine. Laughter and murmured conversations rippled through the hall, but beneath the glittering surface, I could feel the weight of watchful eyes.
Kyren sat beside me, ever the image of calm dominance, his golden eyes unreadable as he drank from his goblet. He had barely spoken to me since our announcement, save for a few strategic smiles and empty courtesies meant for the nobility to witness.
I could play this game too.
I lifted my goblet to my lips, letting my gaze flick across the room with feigned indifference. That was when I met Kahina's stare.
She had been watching me all evening, her lips curved in a knowing smirk. When our eyes locked, she tilted her head ever so slightly, as if amused by the mere idea of my existence.
I did not look away.
If she wanted a war, she would find I was no meek lamb.
"Kahina has always had a sharp tongue," a voice murmured beside me.
I turned slightly to see Mark, Kyren's closest advisor and friend. He was a sharp-featured man, charming in an effortless way, with dark curls that fell into his eyes when he moved. Unlike Kyren, his expression was openly amused.
I arched a brow. "Does she use it only for words?"
Mark chuckled, swirling the wine in his goblet. "Oh, you have claws. I like that."
"I wasn't trying to impress you."
"No, but you are impressing someone." His gaze flickered toward Kyren, who, despite looking unbothered, had subtly shifted closer.
I turned back to my wine, ignoring the strange warmth creeping up my neck.
---
The Next Morning
A knock on my door stirred me from restless sleep.
I sat up, rubbing my temple. "Enter."
A servant, dressed in the royal colors of Etril, stepped inside and bowed. "My lady, the Duke requests your presence in the courtyard."
Kyren?
I frowned but nodded. "Very well."
Tyla helped me dress quickly—an elegant but practical gown of dark blue, the fabric light enough to move freely. My hair was loosely braided, strands falling over my shoulders. I wasn't trying to impress Kyren, but neither would I allow myself to appear weak.
As I stepped into the courtyard, I was greeted by the sound of steel clashing.
My breath hitched.
Kyren stood at the center of the training grounds, stripped of any royal pretense. His tunic clung to his frame, dark with sweat, his muscles flexing as he parried an attack from a soldier twice his size. The brutality of his movements was mesmerizing—precise, efficient, and utterly ruthless.
A warrior in every sense of the word.
I had seen knights train before, but this was something else. Kyren fought like a man who had never lost—and never intended to.
Finally, he landed a decisive strike, sending his opponent sprawling to the ground. The onlookers murmured their approval as Kyren sheathed his sword and turned to me.
"You're late," he said.
I crossed my arms. "You did not give me a time."
He smirked. "Consider this your first lesson—always be prepared."
I lifted a brow. "Is this a lesson in combat or marriage?"
Kyren stepped closer, his golden eyes gleaming. "Both."
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you want, Kyren?"
He gestured toward the training grounds. "I want to see if you're all talk."
I frowned. "Meaning?"
"You spoke boldly last night," he mused. "But words are just that—words. A future duchess should not only know how to navigate court but also how to defend herself."
I scoffed. "You expect me to fight you?"
He smirked. "No. That would be unfair."
I bristled. "Because I'm a woman?"
"No," he said smoothly. "Because you would lose."
Arrogant bastard.
I exhaled through my nose. "Fine."
A murmur rippled through the gathered soldiers as Kyren handed me a wooden sword.
"You've held a blade before," he observed, watching how I gripped the handle.
I smirked. "Surprised?"
"Pleased," he admitted.
He circled me slowly, his presence pressing against my senses. "Now, little rose," he murmured, "let's see what you can do."
The Fight Begins
Kyren attacked first—fast.
He swung his sword in a quick, testing motion, and I barely managed to block in time. The impact rattled my arms, and I took a step back, adjusting my stance.
"Too slow," he taunted.
I gritted my teeth and lunged, aiming a sharp strike at his ribs. He dodged with ease, catching my wrist mid-swing. In a flash, he twisted, pulling me off balance.
I fell—but not hard. At the last second, I twisted my body, planting my foot into his shin. It wasn't enough to hurt, but it was enough to surprise him.
Kyren's grip loosened, and I took my chance.
I spun, sweeping his legs from under him. He landed on his back with a grunt, and before he could recover, I pressed the tip of my wooden sword against his throat.
The gathered soldiers gasped.
For a long, breathless moment, we stared at each other.
Then, he laughed.
It wasn't a mocking laugh, nor was it bitter. It was genuine amusement—low and rich, like rolling thunder.
I frowned, stepping back as he pushed himself up. "What's so funny?"
Kyren dusted himself off, his smirk sharper than ever. "I was right."
I arched a brow. "About what?"
His golden eyes gleamed. "You are going to be very entertaining, little rose."
I scowled, but there was no denying the way my pulse thrummed at his words.
This marriage was meant to settle a war, but something told me the real battle had only just begun.