It was evening. Karl was dressed in royal attire: a dark shirt with a white slash, white trousers, and black shoes that looked like moccasins. Beside him, Leon wore his usual white with a black coat over it, sporting the same shoes in white. His rings were on clear display.

  As they walked down the room, every eye was on them. Some gave evil stares, others looked disgusted, while only a few showed any hint of happiness.

  “Huh, long pissing day. I don’t have time for this," Leon said, pushing Karl toward the throne. "Here is the king. Everyone against it, keep it to yourself. Boy, there is something I need to do. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Leon turned to walk out immediately.

  Close to thirty people were in the throne room, most of whom were nobles.

  “So, it seems you want to take the chance,” one said.

  “My father treated all with respect and equality. I don’t think it’s a 'chance',” Karl replied.

  “Your sister—why wouldn’t she want the crown?” another asked.

  “My sister is dealing with something else. Regardless, she gave it to me,” Karl answered.

  “Is that so?” a woman said, walking out of the crowd. She was about 5’7” tall, pale, with brown hair. “I’m sorry, King, but your run... I mean, your sister might be the smarter one.” She drew a sword.

  The ten knights with Karl moved to protect him, but she stopped them. “Not you, boys.”

  “Yes, not you,” Leon said, suddenly standing behind the lady. “You might know me. I’m Leon Heart—yes, the Leon Heart. I just said the boy rules. So, who are you?”

  “Just someone sent by the nobles,” she replied.

  The crowd began murmuring. “That’s Leon,” one whispered. “Who’s Leon?” another asked. Everyone watched, waiting for the fight to break out. The girl looked at Leon, who stood just a short distance away.

  “I’m a tough one,” she said.

  “Is it getting hot in here?” a noblewoman in a gorgeous red dress asked. The other's looking at each other for an answer.

  “Don’t worry, girl," Leon said. "I would like you to entertain us. It’s unfortunate that I’m usually in the shadows, so some here will need a demonstration.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The assassin looked to be in her mid-twenties. She gripped her sword. “Where’s yours?” she asked Leon.

  “No need. It would be unfair,” Leon replied.

  The woman wielded the sword and, in a flash, went for Leon’s head. He tilted his neck, the blade barely missing him. There was a second’s pause before she swung left; Leon ducked.

  “Come on now, you are better than this,” Leon said, smiling at her.

  “You aren’t fighting back. Think I’m not worth it?” she asked.

  “Okay then. Noble men and women, please place your bets,” Leon announced.

  The woman ripped her blue dress to free her movement and took a stance. Her legs were carefully placed for balance, her posture not quite that of a knight or a traditional swordsman. She held the sword in her right hand near her face, her left hand steadying the handle.

  “Tempting,” Leon said, smiling.

  She dashed in again, swinging with as much precision as possible, but Leon moved away. Each strike was near enough to be dangerous, yet far enough to miss. He won't even flinch, she thought, planning her next move.

  She gave a feint, swinging up, but just as Leon was about to evade, she closed the distance. She went for a leg kick, but before she knew it, she found herself a distance away, flat on the ground.

  “Hey, I would like to give you a job—and your life,” Leon said.

  “That’s a bad deal, I—”

  “You do understand. Think about it, in fact,” Leon said, a grin now on his face.

  The lady was puzzled, her mind racing as she crouched on the floor.

  “So, yes. Today would be a bad day to die, or to get crowned, and I don’t want that,” Leon said, walking toward her. She nodded, and after a moment, she got up from the floor.

  “I hope you never try something like this again. Karl is your king; this crown belongs to him,” Leon said, finally placing the crown on Karl's head. Karl smiled as he watched the room grudgingly agree. Leon stood on his right, and his momentary assassin stood on his left.

  As the night went on and the people began laughing and enjoying themselves, Leon leaned in.

  “I’ll be here for a while. I want you to go to Os’Thera where you are to...” Leon whispered the rest into the woman's ear, making sure no one else heard a word.

  “Okay then. I’ll start off tomorrow,” she replied.

  Just as she turned to leave, Leon gripped the air behind her neck. She stopped for a minute, getting an unfamiliar sensation, startled that for minute she couldn't walk, then she jerked out, and without turning around left.' the Leon Heart huh' she thought.

  _ _ _ _

  “What do you think?” Mira asked Joe.

  “Just magicians,” Joe replied.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’ll be fine, we both know it,” Joe added. Mira stared at his bandages, which covered him from his toes to his chest, even wrapping around his head.

  “You should have—”

  “No, I’ll never leave you. What if...? You just stay near me. I’ll handle as much as I can, even if that means me being in a bed every time,” Joe said, smiling at her.

  “You are too stubborn.”

  “I have to be. Such beauty doesn’t come to those who aren't stubborn,” he replied.

  Minutes later, the Guild Master passed through. “I’ll be out for another meeting. Stay out of trouble,” he said, leaving them behind.

  _ _ _ _

  “So this is how it feels—fighting while trying to hold back,” Azeya said.

  “You mean training?” Sherlyn asked, standing up.

  “Yes, that. Let’s take it up a bit,” Azeya started. “In fact, you said you trained before, right? With Ryke, I mean. So why start like you're a beginner?”

  just as she finished, she leaped in, hands ready to do there work.Sherlyn stepped back, then moved her body from right to left. Her hands tried their best to intercept the punches as they came, but her concentration was disrupted by a sharp surge. Her good work went down the drain as Azeya caught her leg with a swift leg sweep.

  “I’ve got a thousand ways of beating you. That’s how we go into a fight,” Azeya said, looking down at her. “If you think as fast as you react, and in that moment try to counter, maybe you can be better—but that’s a big 'if'.”

  Before Sherlyn could even see it happen, Azeya was behind her. Ryke was there too, missing wildly; his roundhouse kick hit nothing but air.

  “And know how to stop your strikes,” Azeya added. “You might regret it if you don’t.”

  Sherlyn got up and walked toward Ryke, standing next to him. Both of them stared at Azeya.

  “What?” Azeya said, before stepping back, easily dodging every attempt from Sherlyn.

  The training was outside. The breeze was pleasant, and the green grass swayed back and forth as the wind blew.