Chapter 2 : Royal friends.

Earlier that day, Erin had begun teaching Elise the fundamentals of barrier and veil magic—unaware that their training had already caught the attention of the Crown Prince and his knight, Sir Killian.

" You seem rather interested, Your Highness , " Sir Killian remarked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

" Call me Cloud, Killian," the prince said. " And yes… I am. This kind of magic—it’s rather basic, wouldn’t you agree ?"

" Unfortunately, Your Highness, I cannot address you so informally. I do not hold such a position, " Sir Killian said calmly. " As for your question… the basics are the foundation of every battle. One should never underestimate their power. "

" I see… then perhaps I’ve been overlooking something," he said quietly. "I should refine my defensive magic as well. "

"Your Highness, there is no need for you to concern yourself with defensive magic. I am here to protect you—that is my duty," Sir Killian said, a trace of disappointment in his voice.

"Killian, relax… it’s just a personal interest," he said with a small grin. "You know me—once I set my mind on something, I get it done… whether you approve or not." He glanced at him.

"Try not to look so stressed about it."you might end up with wrinkles on that handsome face of yours at this rate," he added with a faint grin.

"Of course, Your Highness. We all know that !… the kingdom’s stubbornness didn’t disappear—it just got promoted the day you were born," he said dryly.

"Really… even you?" he sighed lightly. "I thought at least one person in this kingdom would spare me from sarcasm."

"Trust me, Your Highness… with a personality like yours, I doubt anyone in this kingdom is even capable of sparing you from sarcasm ," he replied calmly.

"How about a spar?" he said, clearly trying to escape the conversation before it got worse.

"It would be an honour, Your Highness," Sir Killian replied without hesitation.

After changing into more suitable training attire, the two made their way to the training grounds.

A quiet tension settled in the air as they took their positions.

Sir Killian moved first.

His stance was grounded and precise, his blade steady—every movement controlled, efficient, and without waste. Years of discipline showed in the way he advanced, each strike measured and deliberate.

The prince did not rush to meet him.

Cloud’s movements were lighter, almost effortless. He shifted just enough to avoid each strike, reading Killian’s rhythm rather than overpowering it. Where Killian relied on structure and experience, Cloud relied on instinct and adaptability.

Steel clashed.

Killian pressed forward, his attacks growing sharper, faster—testing, probing, leaving no opening unchecked.

Cloud responded in kind, but differently.

He didn’t block every strike. Instead, he redirected them—small movements, subtle adjustments, turning Killian’s strength against him. His style was fluid, unpredictable, as if he was learning with every exchange.

The pace quickened.

For a moment, Killian gained the advantage—his blade forcing the prince back, his technique unwavering.

But then—

Cloud shifted.

A single misstep from Killian—barely noticeable—was all it took.

In an instant, the prince closed the distance, slipping past his guard with a movement too precise to follow.

Their blades met one final time—

—and stopped.

Silence fell over the training grounds.

Sir Killian stepped back, lowering his sword, his breathing heavy, sweat tracing down his face. His chest rose and fell as he tried to steady himself.

Cloud, in contrast, stood composed. His breathing was even, his grip steady.

There was no doubt—clearly, he had won.

"Well, that was fun," the prince said with a faint smile, clearly enjoying himself.

"Your Highness… I often wonder why you do not take command in the war," Sir Killian said, catching his breath. "With your level of skill, the outcome would hardly be in question."

"If I were to lead the battle, Killian, then you would be denied the recognition you deserve. You are already more than capable of defeating an army—you have no need of me on the front lines."

His gaze softened slightly.

The kingdom has its warrior. I would not take what you have earned and place it upon myself."

Silence settled after the spar.

Then Killian spoke.

"Your Highness… I believe I am requesting a raise in compensation for emotional damage."

Cloud blinked. "…Denied."

" Ugh , Unfair kingdom," Killian muttered under his breath...

And so, the two royal companions returned to their duties, the echoes of their spar fading into the calm of the kingdom...

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