The practice yard stretched before us, a wide expanse of packed dirt scored with footprints and boot scuffs, evidence of hours of hard drilling. The northern wall of the Mage Cathedral loomed behind it, its pale stone casting a long, cool shadow that cut across the yard. Dust drifted lazily in the breeze, stirred by bootsteps and the rhythmic clash of blunted blades. The air smelled of worn leather, oiled steel, and sweat, honest, sharp, and alive.

  Allira walked beside me, her uniform as crisp and commanding as ever. Despite our earlier outing, she still carried the air of unshakable composure. Her black hair had begun to come loose, strands trailing in the breeze, but she moved with a soldier’s purpose, straight-backed, fluid, and surefooted, as if long past the need to prove herself.

  Behind us, Allyson followed in quiet steps, her eyes always scanning, always calculating. She didn’t speak, didn’t need to. She moved like a sentinel, composed and deadly. My shadow with glowing eyes.

  Ahead, the yard thrummed with motion. Soldiers rotated through drills, parrying, footwork, and resets, while instructors paced between them like hawks, snapping out corrections in sharp voices. On the far right, a row of scarred wooden dummies stood in vigil. To the left, pairs of soldiers exchanged methodical strikes, their forms rough but improving, the kind of repetition that burned technique into muscle.

  Near the center stood our group, twenty in all. Ten stood upright in a line, while the other ten sat neatly behind them on a stone bench. Most straightened at the sight of us. A few looked eager. A couple looked nervous. One tried a little too hard not to stare at Allira.

  “I don’t know what they were expecting,” I muttered.

  “They expected a repeat of yesterday,” Allira replied, her voice low, her mouth twitching in a near-smile. “They didn’t expect both of us.”

  “They’ll learn,” I said. “Hopefully without limping too much.”

  As we approached, the standing soldiers snapped to attention, while the seated ones rose with practiced discipline. I let the silence linger a beat longer than necessary.

  “Good morning,” I said, stepping forward. “If you’re here, it means you’re either the lucky ones… or the unlucky ones. Depends on how your day goes.”

  A few chuckles broke the tension. Allira stood beside me, resting one hand on a practice sword she pulled from a nearby rack. Her expression was unreadable.

  “This morning’s lesson is single-handed swordwork,” she said, voice even and commanding. “No shields. No partners. Just you, your blade, and the uncomfortable truth that someone out there wants you dead. We’re here to make sure they fail.”

  Behind us, Allyson came to a quiet stop, hands clasped behind her back, ever watchful.

  I scanned the group again. The sun climbed higher, the dust stirred, and sweat already gleamed on a few brows. Perfect.

  “Let’s begin,” Allira said. I leaned in slightly and told her I’d visit the archery range for a short while. She nodded and called out the first cadence of the warm-up drills.

  Allyson and I moved toward the eastern edge of the practice grounds, where the archery range lay, bordered by a low stone wall and a gentle rise of trees catching the morning sunlight. Dozens of straw targets lined the range in neat rows, their centers worn and ragged from repeated strikes. A long rack, shaded by a canvas overhang, held bows of various sizes and draw weights, each paired with quivers hanging from pegs below. A few archers practiced silently, the range filled with the rhythmic hum of bowstrings and the soft, satisfying thumps of arrows hitting straw.

  Sergeant Duncan moved along the line of archers, pausing here and there to offer quiet corrections. I stopped at the edge of the range, watching for a moment. Most of the students missed their marks more often than they hit, but the effort was there.

  Duncan spotted me and came over. “Ah, Earl. Back to test your aim again?”

  “Would it be too much trouble to shoot a few rounds?” I asked, still watching the others.

  “Not at all. The same target as last time is open. Give me a moment to set you up.”

  I thanked him and moved to the rack of bows. I tested the pull of several before choosing one that felt right. Not too heavy, not too soft, just enough bite. I handed Emberline to Allyson, who took the sword with a blink of surprise. Come to think of it, I’d never handed it to her before. She cradled it as if it were something sacred.

  Duncan returned with a handful of arrows and a leather bracer. He helped me put it on, then set the arrows in a nearby stand. Once I was prepped, I moved to the line. The world narrowed. The soft sounds of the practice yard faded behind me. Just me, the bow, and the target. Time to recall the rhythm.

  I stepped to the line and drew in a long breath.

  Without meaning to at first, my body began to recall the old motions of Kyudo. Not the modern stance from camp or military drills, but the slow, deliberate ritual of the old form. I adjusted my feet into ashibumi, grounding myself, left foot forward, right angled slightly. My spine straightened. The bow settled against my palm.

  Dōzukuri. Body alignment. I exhale slowly.

  I nocked the first arrow carefully, breathing into the ritual, not just the motion. The draw, yugamae, felt stiff, but my arms remembered the path. I lifted the bow slowly in uchiokoshi, exhaled once more, and began to draw, hikiwake, the tension spreading across my back as I opened fully.

  At full draw, the world narrowed to the target.

  Kai. The moment of hold. Stillness. Breath.

  I released, hanare. Thump.

  Just outside the bullseye. My breathing remained calm, my body holding the follow-through, zanshin, until the arrow struck.

  [DING]

  [100 Archery XP Gained]

  [Level Up – Archery - Level 2]

  120 XP Until Next Level

  The second came more smoothly. My feet found their place with more confidence. The pull felt more precise. My back relaxed into the tension like an old friend arriving unannounced.

  Thump.

  [DING]

  [100 Archery XP Gained]

  20 XP Until Next Level

  A finger-width closer to the center. My focus sharpened.

  The third shot said nothing. Only breath and movement. Each part of the sequence connected to the next, step, set, draw, hold, release.

  Thock.

  [DING]

  [200 Archery XP Gained]

  [Level Up – Archery - Level 3]

  210 XP Until Next Level

  Bullseye. I held the bow in my left hand, watched the arrow quiver briefly, then it was still.

  The fourth arrow. I felt my pulse in my fingertips but didn’t rush. I moved with the quiet grace that Kyudo demands. Not for war, not for display. A centered place between breath and strike.

  Thock.

  [DING]

  [200 Archery XP Gained]

  10 XP Until Next Level

  A second perfect shot, almost touching the first. I heard nothing. Not Duncan, no Allyson behind me, not even the buzz of the yard. I let the dinging settle before I tried my last arrow.

  One more.

  The fifth moved through the form with calmness. There was no hesitation anymore. Only a quiet understanding of what the bow required and what I could offer.

  Thock.

  [DING]

  [200 Archery XP Gained]

  [Level Up – Archery - Level 4]

  80 XP Until Next Level

  Three arrows clustered in the heart of the target. Two just beside it, clean, strong, precise.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  I finally lowered my bow, my heart steady and my breathing slow. Kyudo wasn’t really about hitting the target. Not entirely. But it helped.

  From behind, Duncan moved closer with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the group. “That… wasn’t just practice shooting,” he said. “Is that the same style as yesterday?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “An old way. Just needed more time to get back into the swing of it.”

  “Never seen anything like it.”

  I glanced over at Allyson. Her eyes glowed faintly, tracking the arrows, then settled back on me. She gave the slightest nod.

  “It’s peaceful,” I said, more to myself than to Duncan. “Even if you miss.”

  “Well, you didn’t,” Duncan replied. “That was damn near art.”

  I exhaled and let the bow rest lightly at my side. “It’s how I remember who I was before all this.” I looked back toward the sword line, where Allira had already begun her drills. “And who I’m still trying to be.”

  Duncan smiled. “You ever want to teach that here, I’ll clear a lane for you.”

  “I would love that, but other duties always take precedence. I have to go back and make sure my wife hasn’t already broken too many students’ spirits,” I said, returning the bow to its rack.

  Allyson and I went back to stand beside Allira, who looked at me while the soldiers kept practicing with their swords. After a few more minutes of intense repetition, she finally ended the session. All twenty soldiers stood there, panting, soaked in sweat, and sore.

  “Take fifteen,” she ordered, “and then we’ll begin one-on-one sparring rounds with the Earl.” A low ripple passed through the group at that announcement, half excitement, half dread.

  I walked over to the weapons rack and selected a practice sword, rolling it once in my palm. Not bad. I turned toward the designated combat ring, a flat patch of dirt marked by white lines. Allira approached, a water flask in hand.

  “Try not to break them,” she said after a long drink.

  “I’ll try not to,” I replied with a grin. Then an idea sparked, something I remembered from an old movie. Was it Zorro? Yes, the one with Anthony Hopkins… I stepped into the ring and drew a circle in the dirt around myself, about six feet wide. Once satisfied, I planted myself in the center and turned to face her.

  “This is a drill I saw people train with long ago,” I said. “The teacher stood in the center of the circle while the student rotated around the outside, testing our footwork, angles, and guard. The objective was to force the teacher out of the ring within a set time.”

  Allira raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “It could work?”

  “Exactly. They get two minutes. Their job is to push me out. Mine is to stay in. It teaches control, discipline, and awareness.”

  She gave a small nod, then turned to the assembled soldiers. “You heard him. Circle rules. One at a time, two minutes. Impress me.”

  The group quickly took their places outside the ring. The first soldier stood and stepped into the circle, practice sword in hand.

  Kacper Burns, Level 23 swordsman. Not bad.

  He approached with discipline and bowed. I returned the gesture and assumed a defensive stance. Allira raised her hand, held it a beat, then brought it down. “Begin!”

  Burns feinted left, then swept right. A solid move against someone less skilled. But with Blade Sense, I sensed the angle of his strike before he committed. My sword met his low, redirected it wide, then snapped back with a quick counter to his exposed ribs.

  He winced, and Allira called out, “Out!”

  [DING]

  175 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  2,025 XP to next Skill Level

  “Now,” she asked the group, “what did Lieutenant Burns do wrong?”

  A captain spoke up, her tone sharp. “He misread the Earl’s stance. He went for the thrust when the lower line was exposed. Should’ve used a low slash.”

  “Very good,” Allira nodded, then pointed. “Next.”

  A woman stood up and stepped into the ring. Lieutenant Lydia Woods, a Level 22 swordsman. She approached and bowed. I responded, then shifted to a different stance, one that looked slightly vulnerable on the left. A bait.

  “Start!” Allira called.

  Woods paced slowly, smartly keeping her distance. Then, in a smooth pivot, she launched into a horizontal slash toward my left side, exactly as I’d hoped.

  I parried instantly, catching her blade with a sharp clang and flicking it wide. Before she recovered, I pivoted and delivered a firm strike to her ribs. She cursed loudly and glared at me as she stepped back, rubbing her side.

  “Out!” Allira called again.

  [DING]

  175 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  1,850 XP to next Skill Level

  “Let’s discuss. What happened?” she asked the group.

  A soldier answered, “She fell for the bait. The Earl disguised his stance, making her commit to an attack that only looked effective.”

  “So, did she ever have a real chance?” Allira followed up.

  Captain Rebecca Davies answered without hesitation. “No. Not with that setup. I wouldn’t have either.”

  Hmm. Honest. She was climbing my list.

  We continued the exercise with eighteen more soldiers. A few got close, closer than I expected. A couple overextended and needed healing spells. But none pushed me out of the circle.

  [DING]

  175 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  1,675 XP to next Skill Level

  Congradulations

  [Level Up – Sword Fighting – Level 52]

  12,375 XP to next Skill Level

  New Skill Acquired:

  [Sensi – Swordmanship - Lvl 1]

  You may now teach sword techniques with heightened clarity and efficiency.

  True mastery must still be earned.

  When it was over, I stepped back and addressed the exhausted formation.

  “All right,” I said. “What did we learn?”

  “Don’t fight you,” one soldier muttered, drawing laughter.

  “Besides that,” I smiled. “You’re all good. Very good, in fact. Sometimes you will face a foe much stronger and more talented than you. There is always a chance to win, but small mistakes compound quickly. On the battlefield, those mistakes can mean injury or worse. Tomorrow, we will have more training with General Robertson and me.”

  I turned to Allira. “Which format… shield or two-handed?”

  “Shields,” she confirmed.

  I turned back to the group. “Good. Tomorrow, we train on control, weight management, and alternative guard positions with shields.”

  From across the grounds, I spotted Marlena and Erica approaching. A smile broke across my face.

  “Now, yesterday, one of you asked what kind of sword I use. Today, I brought it.”

  I gestured to Allyson, who stepped forward and handed me Emberline.

  “This is Emberline. A katana. Light, slender, but stronger than it looks… and far stronger than your standard two-handed blades.”

  I drew the blade in a single, fluid motion. The soft metallic click gave way to a ripple of gasps as the orange blade shimmered in the light.

  I performed a quick, silent swing through the air, controlled, fast, and clean. Then I slid the blade back into its sheath with another soft click.

  “We’ll review techniques tomorrow. It’ll be different. But the principles remain.”

  I watched the students disperse toward the equipment racks, armor clanking softly as discipline loosened into routine. Among them, one figure stood out, not because she lingered, but because she moved with purpose even when dismissed. She would be a good choice to protect Theresa. If she were available.

  “Captain Davies,” I called. “If I may?”

  She turned immediately and stepped forward, posture snapping into formality. “Yes, my lord.”

  It was the first time I truly looked at her, really looked. As she approached Allira and me, she snapped a crisp salute. Allira returned it without hesitation.

  Captain Davies was young, her brunette hair pulled back into a tight ponytail that kept her features clear and unobstructed. Her brown eyes were sharp despite the fatigue etched into her expression from the morning’s drills. Sweat clung to her skin like it did the rest of the unit, but it did nothing to diminish her composed presence. She carried herself with confidence earned, not assumed.

  She was striking in her own right, but more importantly, she was disciplined, observant, and quick. Everything I’d seen suggested she’d be a solid addition to the Princess’s security. Assuming she accepted. This wouldn’t be a short assignment.

  “This is my wife,” I said as Marlena arrived beside us and nodded politely. “High Mage Robertson.”

  “Captain,” Marlena said pleasantly.

  “Captain Davies,” I continued, “do you have your next posting yet?”

  “No, sir. I was promoted recently and am currently awaiting orders.”

  I smiled. “Good. I know of a posting that involves travel. The downside is that it’s long-term, at least a year, possibly two.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Is it dangerous?”

  “There’s always risk,” Allira answered before I could. “But nothing like the front lines.”

  Davies considered that. “What’s the assignment?”

  “Fair question,” I said. “I intended to keep this discreet for now. One of my wives will be attending the magic academy in Vaelthorn, and I have General Kitch’s approval for two personal guards.”

  “Your wife?” Davies echoed.

  “Yes,” I said. “Though she can be… selective.”

  “She’s not as picky anymore,” Marlena offered helpfully.

  “She’s still picky,” I countered, then paused. “You’ve met Theresa, right? About this tall…” I held my hand up. “…and loves cake?”

  “Yes,” Allira added dryly. “You should hear her when we’re all together.” Allira and Marlena both laughed.

  “Theresa?” Davies asked slowly. “You don’t mean Princess Theresa?”

  “Yes,” I said. Then, turning briefly to Marlena, “And you know she won’t eat what Seraphina cooks all the time. That alone qualifies as picky.” I turned back to Davies. She was staring now, disbelief written plainly across her face.

  “You want me to protect Princess Theresa?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Provided she agrees. And even if she doesn’t.” Her brow furrowed.

  “I don’t care if she says yes or no,” I continued calmly. “I want her safe. Captain… by chance, do you like cake?”

  She blinked once, then nodded slowly. “Earl… are you asking me to be a Royal Guard to the Princess?”

  “Yes,” I said simply. “You’ve earned the offer. You’ve shown the talent I’m looking for. If you have questions, we’ll be here tomorrow. Tell me then whether you accept. Aria, my Royal Mage, will be joining us to speak with another soldier for the second position.”

  She straightened. “Yes, my lord. I would be honored to accept.”

  “Good,” I said. “Now we just need to decide who joins you. Until then, keep this to yourself.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “We’ll provide further details once the second guard is selected,” Allira added.

  Davies snapped a sharp salute and turned away, rejoining the departing students.

  I stood there with my three wives, watching the training grounds empty, when Allira finally turned to me. “Did you choose her because of her abilities?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said easily. “I noticed how quickly she corrected—”

  “…Corrections,” Marlena finished for me, grinning.

  “Is that what we’re calling it now?” Marlena laughed.

  Allyson tilted her head slightly. “Terminology accepted. Notation updated.”

  I sighed. “Allyson, that’s not a thing.”

  _____________________

  Captain Rebecca Davies

  My head was spinning. I’d just been asked to serve as a royal guard, not just any assignment, but a protection detail for the Princess herself. It was the kind of honor officers dreamed of, a posting that didn’t come around often. But it also meant being away from home for at least a year. Maybe two.

  What was I supposed to do?

  I climbed the stairs of the barracks, barely paying attention as my boots thudded up to the third floor. I needed time to think. I wondered if my roommate was in as I pushed open our room’s door. There she stood, completely naked, casually toweling off in the warm light of the room. With my towel.

  “Woods! What are you doing with my towel?” I snapped, yanking it from her hands.

  “Well, Rebecca,” she said, unfazed, “it was the only dry towel left, and I needed to dry off. The rest of the unit is heading to the on-base tavern to blow off some steam. That Earl…”

  “Is what?”

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s impossible.”

  I smirked. “Listen, hotshot. I’ve got inside word that he’s recruiting for a special posting. He’s putting us through the wringer to find the right people.” It was mostly speculation, but if I were in his position, it’s exactly what I’d be doing. I know, he asked to keep the posting quiet, but this is Lydia.

  “You heard what?” she asked, suddenly serious, sitting down on the edge of her bunk.

  “All I’ll say is, it’s a one-to-two-year assignment. Very elite. And there’s only one spot left.” I grinned.

  “How many spots were there?” Her eyes narrowed. “Come on, you have to tell me.”

  I held up two fingers.

  “Bitch. You got one of them, didn’t you?” she blurted. I just nodded.

  “Damn. You know more than you’re letting on.” Her tone shifted to pleading. “What can you tell me? Come on…”

  “You’ve got two days,” I said, lowering my voice. “He’ll decide by tomorrow or the next. That’s all I can give you.” She didn’t interrupt, so I continued.

  “From what he told me, it’s pretty much a lock for a step promotion within a year.” That much wasn’t speculation. Every royal guard who served that close to the crown usually walked away with at least one bump in rank.

  “And?” she asked, barely breathing.

  “There’s travel. I don’t know how much, but there’s travel involved. Also…” I hesitated. “It’s almost certain that both positions are going to women.” She stayed quiet.

  “Lydia,” I said, meeting her eyes. “You and I have always been together, even back in the old neighborhood. But you need to prove yourself here. If he asks me, I’ll recommend you. Otherwise… you know how it works.”

  “Anything else?” she whispered.

  “Tomorrow’s shield training. You’re better than me with shields… show it to them. Let General Robertson see that fire in you. I heard that a Royal Mage will be there tomorrow as well, and most importantly, get some rest.”

  She nodded, her expression thoughtful.

  “What about your parents?” she asked after a pause. “Have you told them?”

  “Not yet,” I replied. “I want both of us to tell them. Together.”

  I started peeling off my sweat-soaked clothes to head to the shower. Just as I unfastened my shirt, I felt arms wrap around me from behind.

  “Thank you, Rebecca,” she whispered.

  I gave her arm a reassuring pat before she let go and turned away, slipping into her sleepwear.

  “Good night,” I said, extinguishing the mana candle with a soft flick. Darkness settled around us.