The morning sunlight streamed through the towering windows of the Central Hall, scattering flecks of gold across the polished marble floors. The air hummed faintly with magic — a reminder that the Academy was no ordinary place of learning.
The instructor's voice cut through the quiet murmur of students finding their seats.
"Today, we begin practical combat evaluations. Pairs will be called, and you will be assessed on control, precision, and restraint."
Restraint — a word that rarely applied to the d'Altaire siblings.
At the far side of the hall, Lucien lounged against a marble pillar, arms crossed, his sword glinting faintly at his hip. Seraphina stood beside him, posture immaculate, her expression unreadable. Even in stillness, she drew eyes like a magnet — a beauty too cold to touch.
Across the hall, Adrian stood with Elara, his hand resting loosely on his sword. There was a stiffness to him that hadn't been there before — the discomfort of someone aware of his own flaws. Elara said something quietly, and a rare, fleeting smile crossed his face.
The instructor's list crackled with energy as he began to call names.
"Seraphina d'Altaire… and Crown Prince Adrian de Valmont."
The room went still.
Even the air seemed to hold its breath.
Lucien tilted his head with mild amusement. "Fate has a cruel sense of humor," he murmured, the corner of his lips curling upward.
Seraphina stepped forward, graceful as ever. She met Adrian's gaze, her expression calm — neither cold nor mocking, simply… composed.
Adrian swallowed the knot in his throat, gripping his sword hilt a little tighter.
The two took their positions at the center of the sparring ring.
"Begin," the instructor said.
Adrian moved first — a clean, practiced strike, swift but measured. Seraphina's blade intercepted it with effortless precision, the ring of metal echoing through the hall. Her movements were fluid, deliberate, unhurried.
She parried again, eyes never leaving his.
"You've improved," she said quietly.
Adrian blinked, startled by her tone. There was no mockery — only observation.
"I had to," he replied, matching her rhythm. "It's the least I could do."
"For what?"
"For what I said. For what I was."
Seraphina didn't respond. Her blade slid past his, disarming him in a swift, elegant motion. The flat edge of her sword rested lightly against his shoulder.
The instructor raised his hand. "Match concluded. Lady d'Altaire, victory."
The class erupted in hushed murmurs. Adrian exhaled, lowering his gaze slightly.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Seraphina tilted her head, as if considering his words. Then she simply nodded once and stepped back, offering no more nor less than what was necessary.
From the sidelines, Lucien smirked. "He's learning humility," he whispered to no one in particular.
Elara, watching from a few paces away, bit her lip. There was no jealousy in her gaze — only quiet admiration for the prince's willingness to face his past mistakes.
The next match was called, but the tension from the first still lingered. Even the instructor glanced twice at the Altaire siblings before continuing.
Later that afternoon, the siblings left the training hall, their steps echoing in the stone corridor.
Lucien broke the silence first. "You didn't humiliate him."
"It would've been pointless," Seraphina replied. "He already knows."
Lucien chuckled softly. "Merciful, aren't we?"
"Pragmatic."
He gave her a sidelong look. "You sound like Father."
"Then I must be doing something right."
They turned the corner toward the grand staircase. Students parted before them instinctively — not out of courtesy, but fear. Power was something that didn't need to be declared; it radiated.
From the upper balcony, Adrian and Elara watched as the two passed below.
Elara spoke softly. "She didn't hate you."
Adrian's fingers tightened against the railing. "No… and that's worse."
Elara looked at him. "Why?"
"Because I don't deserve even her indifference."
She hesitated, then smiled faintly. "Then earn something better."
Adrian's lips curved, just slightly. "Maybe I will."
As the bells of the Academy rang to mark the end of the day, Seraphina and Lucien exited into the courtyard. The wind carried faint echoes of the students' chatter — gossip, awe, fear.
Lucien looked skyward, golden eyes glinting under the sun. "A long day."
Seraphina adjusted the glove on her hand, her gaze distant. "It's only the beginning."
The world might think the engagement's dissolution had weakened House Altaire.
But for those who knew power when they saw it — it was clear the storm had only just begun.