The courtyard still echoed with shouts when the guards arrived, blades drawn and eyes sharp.
Hellen Lee stood frozen near the wall, breathing hard, Momo at his feet, tail puffed in alarm.
The guards spread out, encircling him beneath the orange torchlight.
"You there! Drop whatever you're holding!" one barked.
Hellen raised both hands, panic flashing across his face. "I didn't do anything! There was someone—a thief—he jumped over the wall!"
But the guards weren't listening. Their blades gleamed inches from his throat.
Then a calm, commanding voice broke through the chaos.
"Enough. Lower your swords."
The soldiers immediately froze as a tall figure stepped forward — Darius Vane, the black-skinned captain of the outer guard.
His presence silenced the courtyard. The man's gaze was steady, the kind that measured everything and missed nothing.
Behind him came a young woman, holding a lantern that threw gold light across her face.
Her hair was jet-black, flowing to her shoulders, her skin pale as moonlight — a striking contrast beside her brother.
Hellen blinked in disbelief, staring between them. Wait… they're siblings?
The young woman noticed his confusion and smiled faintly. "Surprised? Don't be. My brother and I just took after different sides of the family."
Darius gave her a side glance. "You talk too much, Lyra."
"I talk because you never do," she teased softly, then turned to Hellen. "You're the boy from the other world, right?"
"Y-Yeah," Hellen said, still staring awkwardly. "Sorry, I just didn't expect—uh—"
"Different colors?" Lyra finished for him, her tone amused. "You should see our parents."
Darius sighed. "That's enough, Lyra."
Her grin faded as she turned to the guards. "He isn't the culprit. I saw everything from the corridor window. The thief ran before he could stop him."
The guards hesitated, exchanging glances, then slowly sheathed their blades. One stepped forward, bowing. "Apologies, Captain. We acted rashly."
Darius crossed his arms. "Apologize to him, not me."
The guard bowed again, this time to Hellen. "Sorry, hero. We misjudged."
Hellen rubbed his neck awkwardly. "It's fine. Really."
Darius nodded approvingly. "Good. Keep that patience. You'll need it."
Lyra smiled. "You've got guts, Hellen. Not everyone can stand surrounded by blades and still keep calm."
Hellen tried to laugh. "I was mostly just scared…"
That drew a small chuckle from both siblings.
As the courtyard quieted, Darius turned to him again. "What will you be doing tomorrow?"
"Nothing, I guess," Hellen admitted. "Still figuring out how things work around here."
"Then come to the training yard," Darius said. "You should learn how to defend yourself. The west wing, behind the barracks. Sunrise."
Lyra nodded eagerly. "I'll be there too! Don't worry — I'll make sure my brother doesn't overwork you."
Hellen smiled faintly. "Alright… I'll come."
Darius gave a short nod. "Good. Get some rest."
The two siblings disappeared into the torchlight, their silhouettes fading into the shadows. Hellen stood there a moment longer, still trying to process the strangeness of it all.
---
The Next Morning
The castle was quiet under the pale morning light when Hellen made his way toward the training yard. Momo trotted beside him, tail flicking curiously.
He'd barely stepped through the archway when a cold voice cut across the air.
"Well, well. Look who decided to show up."
Hellen froze.
Standing at the center of the yard, sword resting against his shoulder, was the second prince — the same arrogant noble who had first greeted him when he arrived in this world.
His golden hair caught the sun, and his smirk was as sharp as a blade.
"Your Highness," Hellen said carefully, bowing slightly. "I didn't expect—"
"Of course you didn't," the prince interrupted. "You're the so-called 'hero,' aren't you? The one who caused quite a mess last night."
Hellen stiffened. "That wasn't my fault. I was trying to—"
The prince raised a hand. "Save your excuses. I wonder…" His smirk deepened. "What would Father do if I told him you were the one who damaged the courtyard and broke half the armory wall?"
Hellen's stomach dropped. "You wouldn't."
"Oh, but I would," the prince purred. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to… entertain me instead."
Hellen frowned. "Entertain you?"
The prince tossed him a wooden sword. "A duel. Right here, right now. You win — and I forget all about last night. You refuse — and I'll have the guards drag you to the throne room myself."
Hellen stared at the sword, anger rising behind his calm face.
He hated the prince's smugness, the cruel amusement in his eyes.
But he also knew he had no choice.
"…Fine," Hellen said quietly, gripping the sword. "If that's what it takes."
The prince smirked. "Excellent."
He stepped back, drawing his own blade — polished steel glinting like silver fire.
The soldiers around the yard stopped their drills, forming a circle to watch.
The prince lifted his sword lazily. "Try not to die too quickly, 'hero.'"
Hellen exhaled slowly, lowering his stance.
Momo crouched beside the wall, tail twitching, eyes sharp.
The air between them tightened like a drawn bowstring.
Then—
Both lunged forward.
To be continued…