"I Challenge You to a dual"

---

The chamber doors flew open with a deafening crash.

Velcon stormed inside, his boots striking hard against the marble floor as he tore off his gloves and flung them aside. His breath came in shallow bursts, his eyes burning with fury.

"How dare he," he hissed, pacing like a caged predator. "How dare a mere commoner speak to me like that?"

His hand curled tightly into a fist.

"I should've torn the arrogance off his face," he growled. "Looked me straight in the eyes like I was nothing."

He stopped mid-step, his jaw tense. His mind replayed the image—Kyel standing calmly beside Eva, eyes steady, voice firm… and on his hand, that ring.

That ring.

Velcon narrowed his eyes. "That wasn't just a wedding ring."

He turned sharply toward the mirror, as if seeing the truth reflected there.

"It was enchanted," he whispered. "I felt it. The magic was woven deep. A disguise spell... powerful and deliberate. That's no peasant's charm."

His breathing slowed, but his fury only simmered deeper now—curled around suspicion like smoke.

"And Lady Eva…" he muttered. "She didn't even know the truth about Duke Malric Vane."

He turned fully toward the door, eyes darkening.

"Why are they hiding it?"

With a sharp snap of his fingers, the shadows near the entrance shifted. A figure emerged—silent, cloaked in black. His most trusted informant.

"You," Velcon barked, pointing a finger. "You were the one who told me Duke Malric Vane was dead. Weren't you?"

The spy bowed low. "Yes, Your Highness. Prince Velcon."

Velcon took a step forward, voice low and hard. "How did he die?"

The spy hesitated only a moment. Then—

"He was secretly executed."

Velcon stilled. The word hung heavy in the air.

"By whom?"

The spy met his gaze, steady and fearless. "By Emperor Eyan Lucien Therald himself."

Silence. Long and sharp.

Velcon's lips parted, just slightly.

"…The Emperor?"

He turned away, jaw clenching, eyes flicking toward the tall window where sunlight streamed in—warm, golden, and unbothered by treachery.

---

The doors burst open with a thunderous bang.

Hans jolted upright, nearly knocking over the crystal inkstand on the desk. His quill clattered to the floor as Emperor Eyan Lucien Therald stormed into the chamber, a storm cloaked in black, his eyes burning with fury.

"Your Majesty—!" Hans stammered, bowing hurriedly. "I—I apologize. I was caught off guard seeing Her Highness with Kyel. I didn't know what to say. I… I made a mistake."

But Eyan didn't respond.

He didn't even look at him.

He marched to the center of the room, his jaw tight, his breath sharp, his gloved hands clenched at his sides.

"This is not good," he muttered under his breath. "She should not have met that person."

Hans frowned, confused. "Met who, Your Majesty?"

Eyan's gaze snapped to him. "Prince Velcon."

Hans blinked. "How do they know each other?"

"Eva told me they met once," Eyan replied, voice taut. "At my birthday banquet."

Hans swallowed. "Did… did you meet the prince just now?"

Eyan nodded stiffly. "Yes. Outside. Just as I was leaving with eva."

He turned away, pacing. The tension in his shoulders hadn't lessened—if anything, it had worsened.

"He was about to tell her," Eyan said, his voice low and sharp. "About Duke Malric Vane."

Hans stiffened. "He told Her Highness?"

"No. I stepped in before he could. Interrupted."

He ran a hand through his hair, the composure of a ruler cracking at the edges.

"But I was careless, Hans. As soon as Velcon mentioned that man's name, I—reacted. I lost control. I looked at him straight into his eyes."

Hans tried to reassure him, voice cautious. "Don't worry, Your Majesty. The prince likely didn't notice. He won't think anything of it."

Eyan turned to him slowly, his expression grim.

"No… the way he looked at Kyel—it wasn't idle curiosity."

His tone dropped further, as if saying it aloud made it real.

"It was suspicion. A calculating kind of silence."

Silence fell between them, heavy and thick.

Then Eyan straightened, the decision firm in his eyes.

"I can't risk it again. I won't appear as Kyel anymore—not until the sword tournament."

Hans nodded slowly, the weight of those words settling like dust around them.

Because one more mistake… and Velcon wouldn't just be suspicious.

He'd start hunting.

---

(5 Days Later)

The sun hung low over the training grounds, casting long shadows across the packed earth. The air was crisp, filled with the clatter of steel and the rhythmic cadence of footwork. Eva stood near the edge of the sparring ring, wiping sweat from her brow, her muscles still humming from the morning drills.

"Lady Eva!"

A voice called out from behind. Eva turned as one of the younger female knights jogged toward her, cheeks flushed from exertion but eyes bright with excitement.

"Are you participating?" the knight asked, practically bouncing on her heels.

Eva raised a brow. "Participating in what?"

The knight blinked, surprised. "The sword tournament. For new recruits. Didn't you hear?"

Eva shook her head slowly. "No… I didn't."

The knight tilted her head, genuinely puzzled. "That's odd. It was announced a week ago."

Eva's gaze sharpened slightly, but she masked her reaction with a calm nod. "I must've missed it."

The knight smiled. "You should definitely join. The first prize is a personal wish granted by His Majesty himself—Emperor Eyan Lucien Therald."

Eva paused, her attention now fully caught.

"A wish… from the emperor?"

The knight nodded eagerly. "Anything within reason. It's a tradition, every few years."

Eva looked down at her wrapped hands, then to the sparring circle where two knights exchanged blows under the rising sun.

A slow smile tugged at her lips.

"Is that so…" she murmured. Then, straightening, she added with quiet resolve,

"I should participate too. I want to see how much stronger I've become."

---

Knock. Knock.

The sound echoed through the polished corridor.

Hans opened the door, He blinked in mild surprise before offering a polite smile.

"Oh—it's you, Lady Eva."

Eva stood tall, dressed in her training gear, sweat-damp curls brushing against her cheek.

"Mr. Hans," she said with a calm tone, "is His Majesty inside?"

Hans stepped aside, gesturing politely. "Yes, he is. Please—come in."

She entered the office, the door quietly shutting behind her. The scent of parchment and ink lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of black tea. Eyan looked up from a set of scrolls, his dark eyes lifting with faint surprise.

"Lady Eva," he said slowly, "what brings you here?"

Eva stepped forward, posture confident. "Eyan, I want to participate in the sword tournament."

Eyan's expression stilled.

He and Hans exchanged a brief glance, silent but loaded with meaning.

Then he leaned back slightly in his chair, voice firmer now. "No, Lady Eva. That tournament isn't for you."

"But Eyan, I want to."

He studied her, the stern ruler creeping into his tone. "May I ask why?"

"Because I want to see how strong I've become," Eva replied, her eyes unwavering. "I want to test my strength."

He muttered inwardly, You're strong enough to throw me to the floor.

"Your Majesty?" Eva's voice pulled him back.

He blinked. "No," he said at last, standing. "It's still too dangerous. I can't allow it."

Hans stepped forward cautiously. "Lady Eva… the competition is fierce. These recruits have been training for knighthood since they could lift a blade. They won't go easy on anyone."

"You could get seriously hurt."

Eva folded her arms. "So… Your Majesty thinks I'm weak? That I can't even fight?"

Eyan's lips parted. "No, that's not—"

But he faltered. The words died in his throat.

Eva's eyes narrowed, voice clear and challenging.

"Then I challenge you to a duel."

Both men looked at her as if she'd sprouted wings.

"Lady Eva," Eyan said quickly, "you can't just— I won't accept that."

But she took a bold step forward.

"Let's make it a deal. We'll have a duel. If I manage to throw you even once, you'll let me participate."

Eyan stared at her for a long moment. Hans's eyes darted between them, visibly nervous.

And then, with a slow, resigned exhale, Eyan gave a crooked half-smile.

"Deal."

---