The third-year elf—still standing perfectly upright with one fist pressed to his chest—did not blink.
Lindarion stared at him.
'Am I supposed to knight him or something?'
A few students down the path had paused to gawk. One girl near the stairwell was whispering into her friend's ear. A small group of second-years exchanged sharp glances.
Lindarion cleared his throat. "You can stop that."
The elf blinked once. "Your Highness?"
"Don't call me that," Lindarion muttered. "And stop saluting. It's weird."
The elf looked confused. Then bowed lower.
"Understood, Prince."
'Oh, we're going to need a full reset on this one.'
Lindarion sighed. "Do you want something, or did you just come here to scare half the hallway?"
The elf straightened again, very slowly. "I was instructed to offer my assistance should you ever require a sparring partner, a guide, or a second in a formal duel."
"…By who?"
