Eavesdropper

The sheer disappointment expressed by Leonor each time Valerio told her he wouldn't visit her that night always stuck out in his heart for a long time.

Despite having consistently visited her for a couple of weeks in a row, she never once became more guarded around him. On the other hand, he went to great lengths to keep himself from her. He feared the rejection he may face if he were to wear his heart on his sleeve. All the smiles were real, but under the surface was the yearning of a man with a secret.

With Leonor fresh in his heart and mind, his nightly sword fights were much more heated. Perhaps he was going a bit too hard on his opponent in the name of teaching but it was helping him burn off the unnecessary energy Leonor had put inside of him.

Never before had he battled with feelings for someone. No one had captured him the way she had.

Each afternoon he was summoned to sword practice by a hooded figure, he felt dread fill his heart knowing he would have to face her disappointment again.

Once they arrived at the clearing where they could practice without the gaze of someone burning them, the sparring escalated quickly.

"Wouldn't it be best to warm up on this cold evening?" Valerio asked the red-headed man standing across from him, shedding his hooded cloak and tossing it to the side as if it wasn't worth as much as Valerio's monthly salary.

"I walked far longer than I would have liked to," the slightly shorter man shot back. "Let us skip the warm up or I'm going to run out of time. The Crown Prince doesn't go unnoticed for long."

"So boastful, your highness," Valerio remarked.

"Not quite as boastful as the man who must say a heartfelt goodbye to his lover each evening," the prince said with a smirk.

Valerio allowed himself to be caught off guard as his eyes widened and his face felt warm.

"I hope your sword is as sharp as your tongue tonight," Valerio said.

In the shabby shed hid a locked chest, two swords were hidden by camouflaging magic. Not a soul would expect swords of value to be hidden in a place like that.

Months prior, the prince was combing through regions of the Castillian Kingdom, finding himself a sword fighter worthy of training him. He couldn't choose someone from the palace because they would undoubtedly be tied to his father. Even in Coeurvalle, word would get back to his father, the current King, that he was honing his swordsman skills. His already overly paranoid father would only grow more extreme.

Close to giving up, Prince Stephano's aid was wandering through Burien on an unrelated task late at night when he witnessed a show of swordsmanship going unnoticed in an open space at the edge of the village. After following the young man, he reported back to the Prince, telling him he had found someone worth looking into.

To both of their surprise, an orphan in the village was who caught their attention. 

They upgraded Valerio's shabby sword, promising he could keep it if he started training the prince upon their request.

The swords they handled were infused with royal magic. Practice swords were unnecessary when they had blades completely impenetrable. They would remain sharp no matter what happened to them unless they faced something that could disrupt the magic imbued within them.

It made for interesting and dangerous practices.

Based on the Prince's opinion of himself, he thought he was only halfway to where he wanted to be. He was exemplary in magic. His sword skills were a far cry from that. 

The Prince eagerly reached into the old chest and found his golden blade. Valerio found his silver one and the spar began.

Unfortunately, it only lasted a short time because, as Valerio observed, the prince's grip was loose.

Valerio parried with him two times, showing him that he was going easy on him from the beginning. 

At someone doubting him, Prince Stephano behaved irrationally and acted without thinking. He was the epitome of hot-headed with his striking red hair and temperament. 

The prince thrust his sword forward, easily evaded by Valerio. When he reeled back again, he attempted a downward strike. Valerio, the more experienced swordsman, thrust his blade and ripped the sword from the prince's hands. It flew across the clearing dangerously.

Luckily no one else was around, or so he thought. 

"Do you think you'll ever be able to take down anyone when you have such a loose grip on your weapon?" Valerio snapped at Prince Stephano. "Fetch your blade. We're starting again." 

Prince Stephano held out a gloved hand, hushing the other man.

"Did you hear that?" the Prince asked.

Stephano's hazel eyes peered into the forest and he was immediately suspicious. He sprinted to grab his sword before heading towards the tree line where he heard the noise.

The life of a Crown Prince was full of tribulations not understood by most others. He had been the target of assassination attempts since he was a mere toddler. As he grew older, people formally came forward trying to shake his position. 

To hear someone hiding in the tree line, he was filled with rage at the thought of a spy - particularly if his father sent them. 

The sword Prince Stephano used to practice with was pointed in front of him. Since he had been in a lit area, his eyes weren't used to the darkness and he started thrusting the blade blindly, not particularly caring who was there. 

Valerio ran into the forest. To his horror, he witnessed the situation from a different angle. The hot-headed Prince looked like a paranoid murderer.

The Crown Prince was on the verge of striking Leonor as she crawled away on her backside with pure petrification on her face. 

Reacting more than thinking, Valerio caught the prince's sword and knocked it out of his hands again.