The council chamber smelled like polished wood, ink, and judgment.
Aerin sat at the head of the long table, back straight, hands folded, doing his absolute best to look like someone who knew what he was doing. His crown sat perfectly in place today—this alone felt like a victory.
Unfortunately, everyone else in the room knew him.
"Let us begin," said Lord Halbrecht, Minister of Coin, a thin man with sharp eyes and sharper opinions. "The bandit attack has been resolved. Princess Kaela has departed. Repairs are underway."
Aerin nodded. "Good. I'm glad no one was seriously hurt."
Halbrecht adjusted his spectacles. "Except your pride, perhaps."
Aerin flinched.
Across the table, Lady Merrowin, Minister of Diplomacy, hid a smile behind her fan. She was elegant, silver-haired, and terrifyingly perceptive.
"You did well," she said calmly. "You delegated."
"I hid," Aerin corrected.
"That too," she replied pleasantly. "But the city still stands."
The Harem Alarm, mounted discreetly near the ceiling of the chamber, gave a faint hum, as if agreeing.
Aerin eyed it suspiciously.
"I don't like that thing listening to meetings," he muttered.
"It's been listening for three centuries," said Master Orrick, the court mage. "It has opinions."
"I do not need a magical device judging my love life," Aerin said.
Merrowin leaned forward. "With respect, Your Majesty, your love life is now a matter of state."
Aerin deflated.
Before he could respond, the doors swung open.
The temperature in the room changed.
Not magically. Socially.
"Ah," Merrowin said. "He's here."
Aerin looked up.
And immediately wished he hadn't.
The man who entered was tall, broad-shouldered, and infuriatingly handsome. Dark hair tied back neatly. Confident stride. Relaxed smile that somehow felt personal to everyone in the room.
Several female council aides visibly straightened.
One sighed.
Another dropped a quill.
"Oh no," Aerin whispered.
The man bowed deeply, one hand to his chest.
"Your Majesty," he said smoothly. "You summoned me."
This was Sir Cassian Valecrest.
Captain of the Royal Guard.
Combat instructor.
Hero of three border skirmishes.
And—according to palace gossip—a walking romantic disaster.
Women loved him.
Men admired him.
Aerin wanted to crawl under the table.
"Sir Cassian," Aerin said, voice cracking only a little, "thank you for coming."
Cassian smiled at him.
The Harem Alarm did nothing.
Aerin didn't know why that bothered him, but it did.
"We've asked Sir Cassian to oversee your martial training," Halbrecht said.
Aerin froze. "My… what?"
Cassian's smile widened.
"Oh," he said warmly. "You didn't know?"
"No," Aerin said. "I did not know."
"You ran during a bandit attack," Halbrecht said bluntly. "Publicly."
Aerin sank into his chair. "I ran strategically."
"Nevertheless," Merrowin said, "appearances matter."
Cassian stepped closer. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll go easy on you."
The ladies in the room giggled.
Aerin died a little inside.
The training yard was worse.
Much worse.
Aerin stood in borrowed practice armour that was slightly too big, gripping a wooden sword like it might explode.
Cassian stood opposite him in casual training gear, sleeves rolled up, completely unfair in every possible way.
A small crowd had gathered.
This was new.
"Why are there people watching?" Aerin whispered.
Cassian glanced around. "Oh, that's normal."
"It is?"
"Yes. They like to watch."
"Why?"
Cassian considered. "Me."
The Harem Alarm, mounted nearby for "observational purposes," gave a smug little ding.
Aerin raised his sword.
It wobbled.
"Alright," Cassian said kindly. "Just basic stance."
Aerin adjusted his feet.
Wrong.
Cassian corrected him.
Still wrong.
"Relax," Cassian said. "You're too stiff."
"I'm under a lot of pressure," Aerin squeaked.
Cassian chuckled. "Imagine it's a dance."
That did not help.
Cassian demonstrated. Smooth movements. Effortless balance. The sword became an extension of his body.
Aerin tried to mimic it.
He tripped.
Landed on his back.
The crowd gasped.
Someone clapped.
Cassian offered him a hand. "Up you get."
Aerin took it.
Cassian pulled him up easily.
Too easily.
"See?" Cassian said. "Not so bad."
Several women sighed audibly.
Aerin stared at the ground.
"This is why they all want you," he muttered.
Cassian blinked. "What?"
"Nothing."
They resumed.
Cassian attacked lightly.
Aerin panicked.
Blocked wrong.
The wooden sword flew out of his hands and struck the Harem Alarm.
The alarm rang.
WEEEOOOO
The yard froze.
Cassian stared at the crystal. "…Did I do that?"
Aerin stared too. "I think it hates comparisons."
The alarm shut off.
Cassian laughed. "Relax, Your Majesty. You don't need to be like me."
"I don't?" Aerin asked hopefully.
"No," Cassian said. "You just need to be you."
Aerin wasn't sure that was comforting.
Later, in the council chamber again, Lina leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"They're already comparing you two," she said.
"I know," Aerin groaned. "He's brave. Handsome. Confident. He probably rescues kittens in his spare time."
"He does," Lina said. "Once."
Aerin stared at her.
"You see the problem."
She smirked. "You're not competing."
"It feels like I am."
"That's because everyone else is," she said. "You're the only one who shouldn't."
The doors opened again.
Cassian entered, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Your Majesty," he said. "Training tomorrow?"
Aerin nodded. "Yes. Thank you."
Cassian hesitated. "For what it's worth… they don't follow you because you're impressive."
Aerin blinked.
"They follow you because you're kind," Cassian said. "That matters more than swords."
The Harem Alarm gave a soft, thoughtful hum.
Cassian left.
Aerin exhaled.
"I hate him," he said quietly.
Lina smiled. "No, you don't."
"…I really don't," Aerin admitted.
Outside, somewhere in the palace, new candidates arrived.
The council whispered.
The kingdom watched.
And the Harem Alarm waited—patiently—for the one who wouldn't try to impress him at all.