“The Duel of Heartbeats”

Eyan tightened the wraps around his wrist, dressed in his black sparring clothes—the same ones he wore when training with knights. His jaw was set.

Hans stood nearby, frowning. "Your Majesty… are you really going to fight Her Highness?"

"Yes."

"But… why the sparring uniform? You only wear that when you fight knights."

"I can't let her win," Eyan said flatly. "I have to take this seriously."

Hans blinked. "It's one throw. There's no way Her Highness can even manage—"

"She can," Eyan cut in. "She's not fragile."

Hans stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Even so… shouldn't you hold back? What if she gets hurt?"

"It's better than her joining the tournament." Eyan grabbed the wooden sword. "This is the only way to stop her."

Hans sighed. "But still—"

"Relax," Eyan said, smirking. "I'm not going to lose."

Just then, footsteps echoed across the private training ground.

Eva walked in wearing her sparring clothes, her hair tied back, her expression fierce—and stunning.

Eyan turned.

And dropped his sword.

Hans glanced at the fallen weapon, then at his emperor's face, and muttered under his breath, "Yeah… he's definitely going to lose."

Eyan bent down, picked up his wooden sword, and looked her in the eyes.

"Are you ready, Lady Eva?"

Eva slid one foot back and raised her weapon with confident grace. "Yes… but Your Majesty—don't hold back."

Eyan gave a slight smirk as he mirrored her stance. "I wasn't planning to."

Hans raised his hand from the side of the private training ground, then swung it down. "Begin!"

In an instant, Eva lunged forward.

Her movement was clean, fast—faster than Eyan expected. The force of her strike drove through the air, slamming against his wooden blade with a sharp crack that echoed across the grounds. Eyan braced, barely blocking in time, his arm jolting from the impact.

"What a powerful attack, Lady Eva," he muttered, genuinely impressed.

She didn't answer. Her focus was razor-sharp, eyes narrowed, already moving again.

From the side, Hans watched, wide-eyed. His gaze flicked between the locked wooden blades and the determined faces.

His Majesty was right… Her Highness is not fragile.

She was fierce. Precise. And not stepping back.

Eva struck again, her blade crashing hard against Eyan's.

"You're not going all out, Your Majesty," she said, her voice firm, eyes sharp.

Eyan blocked with ease, smirking. "How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not an idiot, Your Majesty."

Without warning, she shifted her grip and tried to hold-slam him to the ground in one swift move. But Eyan read her step and blocked it cleanly—his hand shooting out, pulling her toward him to break the motion.

Their faces were suddenly far too close.

Eva's breath hitched.

Her heart skipped violently in her chest as she met his eyes—red, unreadable, and so close she could count his lashes. She jerked back immediately, her cheeks flushed bright crimson.

Why is my heart racing so fast?

"Are you all right, Lady Eva?" Eyan asked, his voice lower than before.

Eva forced herself to blink and step back into stance. "Yes... Let's start again."

This time, when Eva tried to throw him, Eyan blocked her again—but instead of pushing her back, he spun and caught her in his arms from behind. His grip was firm, steady—his chest pressed to her back, and his breath grazed the curve of her ear.

Then he whispered, his voice brushing her skin, "Lady Eva."

Her entire body tensed.

And in that moment, as the name left his lips, her mind betrayed her—Kyel… calling her Eva… the same way. That soft, husky voice. That warmth.

She broke free, stumbling forward, one hand over her chest.

Why is my heart racing? And why… why did I think about Kyel just now?

Eyan stepped forward, concerned. "Are you sure you're all right, Lady Eva?"

"I am," she said quickly. "Launch again."

She took a step—but her footing slipped.

Eyan reached out instantly, catching her before she fell. His arm wrapped around her back, steadying her. Their faces were too close again, their noses nearly touching. His heartbeat was fast—she could feel it through his chest. Hers matched his.

Then Eyan's focus broke.

And that was her chance.

Eva grabbed his arm, twisted, and threw him to the ground with a sharp thud.

He blinked up at the sky, stunned.

They both stood up quickly, flustered, neither daring to look the other in the eyes.

"I guess I lost," Eyan muttered, brushing the dirt off his sleeves.

Eva, still avoiding his gaze, said, "That means I won… and you'll let me join the sword tournament."

"You won," he admitted, voice low. "I can't stop you now."

She bowed stiffly and turned. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Then she walked away in a rush, one hand over her heart, her steps quick and unsteady.

Behind her, Eyan stood still—his hand pressed over his chest.

His heart was pounding.

I wanted to kiss her so bad… he thought bitterly.

Hans stepped forward, shaking his head slowly. "Your Majesty… your expression just now—it was dangerous."

Eyan sighed, still staring at the spot where she had disappeared. "You're right," he murmured. "I should be careful."

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