The royal siblings exchanged glances again, their expressions silently aligned. Then, turning their gaze back to Rythe, they said in unison:
"We'll talk about you later."
Rythe blinked once, almost amused.
Elion continued, "But for now—Prince Kaedor is in Ardan on official business. Aurean told us about the blades you requested from Virelia."
Rythe didn't respond at first. His eyes drifted downward, brow faintly creased, as if something else entirely consumed his thoughts. The weight of his recent journey and whatever letter now sat in his pocket seemed to dull the edges of the conversation.
Breaking the silence, Kaedor stepped forward with an unmistakably proud air, voice laced with just the right amount of arrogance. "The blades should be tested."
The siblings looked mildly startled by the blunt declaration—Astrid raised a brow, Rhalia bit back a scoff—but Rythe didn't so much as glance at him. He turned instead to Lareth and said calmly:
"Gather the knights. All of them. That includes the Omegas."
Lareth nodded and quickly left.
Despite the bruises, the fatigue, and the fresh scars that lined his form like faded ink, Rythe walked forward—his stride steady, his voice firm—as the knights assembled in the palace's grand training yard.
Facing them, he spoke loud and clear.
"To my old knights," he began, "the blades you wield now—the ones forged in Virelia—were my gift to you."
The knights responded with murmurs.
"Now," Rythe continued, "with the addition of fifty new recruits to our ranks, it is only right they receive a gift of their own."
He motioned toward Kaedor, who stood proudly beside a chest of glinting weapons—each forged with a dark shimmer unique to Virelian steel.
"These blades were forged specifically for Omega wielders—blessed and bound to your strength. Today, they are yours."
A thunderous cheer erupted among the knights.
Still, Kaedor raised a hand, stepping forward. "Shall we demonstrate their value?" he asked with a glint in his eye.
Without waiting for permission, he selected one alpha knight and one omega, instructing them to duel—first with standard blades. The alpha quickly gained the upper hand. The difference in power and control was evident.
Then Kaedor replaced the omega's weapon with one of the new Virelian blades.
The next bout told a different story.
Though the alpha still struck with strength, the omega now moved with a fluid sharpness—every parry swifter, every strike empowered by the bond to the blade. Cheers burst from the onlookers.
Rythe, standing with arms crossed, spoke evenly:
"These blades were forged for Omegas and only they can wield them efficiently. Their energy responds to Omega blood—anything else would dull their power."
Kaedor turned, then grinned teasingly at Aurean. "Then perhaps you, Aurean, would honor me with a demonstration?"
He said it with a flirtatious glint, one that made the siblings visibly stiffen in surprise.
Astrid blinked. Dain's jaw tensed. Serin exchanged a look with Rhalia, whose eyes narrowed slightly. Even Lareth looked caught off guard.
But Rythe remained entirely unmoved. He barely reacted, as though Kaedor's flirtations were nothing new.
Aurean gave a soft laugh, hand drifting to his hip as he unhooked Verethian, its hilt catching the sun like firelight.
"Gladly," he said coolly.
The two stepped into the circle. A hush fell over the entire yard.
The spar was a dance—sharp, elegant, dangerous. Kaedor fought with the arrogance of a seasoned royal trained in combat, but Aurean matched him, blow for blow, with fluid, instinctive movements that seemed too graceful to belong to any soldier. Every slash of Verethian shimmered with quiet power. Every dodge was a statement of precision.
The siblings watched, spellbound. Even the knights could barely contain their awe.
But Rythe, standing near the edge of the training yard, barely seemed to watch. His eyes were clouded, distant.
Then, silently, he turned and walked away—unnoticed by most, save Aurean, who caught the flicker of movement just as he disarmed Kaedor with a final, controlled strike.
The crowd erupted in applause.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Rhalia asked, stepping forward, admiration clear in her voice.
"Gods," Vaela whispered. "It was like watching poetry in motion."
Aurean, panting slightly but smiling, sheathed Verethian. "I had a good teacher."
As the siblings crowded around him with questions and praise, Aurean's eyes drifted toward the back of the training yard again.
But Rythe was gone.