swords

Faeb rolled onto his side on the plush bed, glaring at the ceiling.

“This is boring. This whole palace is boring. That idiot king locks me beside his room like some pet and then vanishes? Hah. Some master.”

He sat up, silver hair spilling over his shoulders, and tugged at the invisible collar. “If he thinks I’ll wait quietly, he doesn’t know me at all.”

When he finally stepped into the corridor, two guards stood posted outside Vexin’s chamber.

“Is Vexin here?” Faeb asked casually.

Both guards stiffened, their faces pale. “H-How dare you address His Majesty by name!” one barked. “Mind your tongue, vampire!”

Faeb smirked, his crimson eyes glittering.

“Mind your own lips. I’ll call him what I like.”

Before they could draw steel, Faeb dissolved into shimmering mist and vanished. Their panicked shouts echoed through the hall.

Faeb wandered until the clang of steel caught his ears. He stepped into an open courtyard lined with racks of weapons—swords, spears, bows, even strange halberds he’d never seen before. Rows of cadets trained, their shouts filling the air.

For the first time since arriving, Faeb’s eyes lit up. Finally, something interesting.

He pulled out the crest Vexin had given him and strolled inside, choosing not to spook the soldiers by appearing out of thin air.

When a young cadet fumbled his stance, Faeb sighed dramatically.

“No, no, no. You’ll stab your own foot before you stab an enemy. Like this—”

He stepped forward, corrected the boy’s grip, and in one elegant motion spun the blade. Gasps rippled across the grounds.

“Who is he?”

“Never seen him before.”

“Too pretty to be real…”

Faeb smirked. As expected. Handsome and talented. They’re already falling.

Cadets began sneaking glances between drills, some whispering, others openly asking where he came from.

Then, boots. Heavy, precise. The air itself seemed to tighten as a figure entered—the black-and-silver uniform crisp, his stride commanding. General Kael Draven Keal.

The courtyard stilled.

“Until when will His Majesty’s personal servant wander into my training ground?” Kael’s voice was sharp enough to cut.

The words struck Faeb like a blade. Servant? That king has never made me do a single servant’s task… Except—ugh—sitting in his lap. Damn him.

Faeb straightened, his pride unshaken. “I can come here whenever I like. Here—look.” He held up the crest Vexin had given him.

Kael’s dark eyes flickered, then he gave a curt nod. “Granted. Why are you here?”

“I like weapons.” Faeb’s tone was deliberately casual. “I’d like to borrow one.”

Kael considered, then gestured to the racks. “Choose.”

Faeb blinked. That’s it? No questions? No name asked? He’s as bad as that king.

With a huff, Faeb picked a slender blade and began to practice. His movements were fluid, sharp, and deadly graceful. The cadets watched with open admiration, murmuring among themselves.

Kael observed quietly, arms crossed. For someone who’s been in a cage for years, his form hasn’t dulled. Interesting.

Finally, Kael spoke. “Your name?”

Faeb paused mid-spin, smirking. “So, the general does ask names after all. I was beginning to think you and Vexin were competing for the title of ‘Most Annoying Silent Man.’”

A ripple of laughter escaped a few cadets before Kael’s glare silenced them instantly.

“Faeb,” the vampire said at last, eyes locking with his.

Kael gave a short nod. “Kael Draven.”

Faeb arched a brow. “Only Kael Draven? Not going to tell me your full name?”

“Names are earned, not given,” Kael replied, unshaken.

Faeb’s smirk faded into thought. So he won’t say ‘Keal’ in front of me. Just like the servant avoided it. Hiding something, are we?

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