The next morning, Ethan woke up at 5 a.m., the sun barely peeking over the Duskmere horizon. Despite the soreness in his muscles and the dull ache in his chest, he pulled himself up and quietly made his way to the training hall.
To his surprise, Ceris was already there.
She stood in the center of the hall, tying the grip of a wooden training sword, her focus razor-sharp even in the early morning silence.
As he approached, she looked up with a slight smirk. "Perfect timing. Let's train."
Ethan blinked. "Wait, I've got my own training routine—"
Ceris rested the wooden sword on her shoulder and tilted her head. "Aren't you going to stand beside me?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I said I'd stand behind you."
"Well," she replied, stepping forward, "I want you beside me. Not behind."
She tossed him a wooden sword.
"Grab one. We're starting with a warm-up."
The wooden swords clacked sharply in the morning stillness, echoing through the training hall as Ethan and Ceris exchanged light blows. The rhythm wasn't fast, but it was steady measured. Focused.
Between strikes, Ethan furrowed his brow. "Okay, so... what exactly is this training for?"
Ceris parried and stepped to the side, her stance flowing like water. "If we're going to fight together, we need to know each other's strengths and weaknesses."
She lunged forward with a clean thrust, which Ethan barely blocked. "To move in sync. To know each other's intent without saying a word. To be able to read each other like it's second nature."
Ethan grunted. "Right, small problem with that... I don't have a move set. I'm just running on instinct and reacting to survive."
Ceris didn't slow. "Then it's your job to learn mine. Learn how the Duskmere sword flows, how I move, how I strike. Every detail."
She spun, bringing her wooden blade around in a smooth arc. "And it's my job," she added, "to learn how to read you. Your instincts. Your intent. Even if it's chaotic."
They exchanged a few more strikes, each movement slowly becoming more fluid. Ceris's swordplay was elegant and precise, while Ethan's was raw unrefined but unpredictable.
Trying to match her flow, Ethan mimicked one of her side steps and went for a counter but their timing was off. He moved too quickly while Ceris turned to adjust, and their feet caught.
In a flash, the two of them stumbled into each other.
Ceris let out a surprised yelp as they both went tumbling sideways, landing in an awkward heap on the stone floor.
There was a moment of silence.
Then Ceris completely against expectation let out a soft laugh.
"That was terrible," she muttered, propping herself up on an elbow.
Ethan groaned, still flat on his back. "That... was totally part of the plan."
Ceris laughed again, brushing her bangs from her face. "You're unbelievable."
Ethan grinned despite himself. "You laughed. That's new."
She smirked. "Don't get used to it."
Their brief laughter faded naturally, and with a silent nod, they resumed their warm-up until the session came to a close.
Soon after, the two parted ways to begin their respective training routines.
Ethan moved toward one side of the hall where targets had been set up, shifting into his solo drills footwork, precision, and working with Omen's chain. Ceris returned to the sparring dummy with fluid, elegant movements that echoed her noble upbringing.
As Ethan practiced a hook-dodge-spin combo, he glanced toward Ceris.
"What drives you to train this early anyway?" he asked, panting between movements.
Ceris, mid-strike, didn't stop her flow. "Because I can't have you catching up to me."
Ethan gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "That's practically impossible. I've got no fancy forms or set moves, just pure adaptation. I fight based on how someone else fights."
Ceris struck the dummy with a sharp thwack, then glanced sideways. "Don't get too confident. The ball is tomorrow. There'll be far stronger Candidates and Kingmakers there than what you've seen so far."
After their training routines wrapped up, both Ethan and Ceris headed to the dining hall to have breakfast.
Ethan sat down near the middle of the long table, stretching slightly as he reached for a piece of bread.
A moment later, Ceris took the seat beside him on the right side, close enough for their shoulders to almost touch.
Ethan blinked. "Don't you have a sense of personal space?"
Ceris calmly placed her napkin on her lap. "We need to get used to each other," she said. "Besides… didn't you say you'd stand by my side?"
Ethan exhaled through his nose. "Like I said…"
He paused. Then just sighed, defeated, and went back to buttering his bread.
After a few moments, the quiet hum of footsteps echoed through the hall.
Maelin and Arthur entered the dining hall, followed closely by Sylviane and Sayo.
As they each took their places at the long dining table, Maelin's eyes immediately fell on Ceris.
She didn't say anything at first just sipped her tea with a little more flourish than usual. Then, with a slow, sly smile, she murmured, "My, oh my…"
Ceris didn't respond, but her grip on her fork subtly tightened.
Meanwhile, Arthur sat across from Ethan.
He didn't speak. Didn't blink. Just… stared.
Ethan sat up straighter, suddenly very aware of his posture. He reached for his cup with exaggerated care.
Sylviane, now seated beside Sayo, glanced toward Ethan and Ceris. Her brows rose slightly, her curiosity piqued. She didn't say anything but her expression clearly read: What happened between those two?
Then—
BAM!
The doors to the dining hall burst open.
Kite and Lynn came barreling in, laughter echoing behind them as their footsteps hurried across the marble floor.
"Wait for me!" Lynn called, giggling.
"You're too slow!" Kite grinned, waving back at her as he darted toward the table.
Without hesitation, the pair plopped down beside Ethan and Ceris, their energy crashing into the quiet tension like a gust of wind through an open window.
The once subdued atmosphere shifted immediately as Kite began piling food onto his plate with dramatic flair, while Lynn shyly took her seat, still giggling.
Their carefree laughter filled the room, effortlessly breaking the lingering silence and melting the tension in the air.
As the atmosphere lightened, Arthur finally spoke.
"The village of Murkden sends their thanks," he said, his tone calm but carrying weight. "Specifically to you, Ethan. They've reported a booming harvest this season. They intend to donate their excess resources to Duskmere Manor in gratitude."
Ethan blinked, a little taken aback. "Oh… I'm just glad they're living well. That they're safe."
Arthur nodded. "Because of your efforts, they are."
He paused, then continued. "Starting soon, you and Ceris will be assigned outside missions. Protecting nearby settlements from monster attacks, and eradicating bandit camps similar to what Sylviane and Sayo have been handling."
Ceris froze mid-bite, then quickly stood up, eyes wide. "Is it true?!"
Arthur glanced up at her, unfazed. "Yes."
Ceris's eyes gleamed with excitement, her usual composure momentarily forgotten.
Ceris, still standing, asked with a hopeful tone, "Does this mean I can stop doing my lessons?"
Arthur replied evenly, "As long as you're assigned to missions outside the manor, yes."
A bright smile spread across Ceris's face as she eagerly sat back down and resumed eating, visibly more cheerful.
Ethan glanced at her, amused, and thought to himself, She really does hate studying that much... not that I can blame her. I'm not exactly a fan of it either.
Arthur added, "However, I want all of you to focus on the ball tomorrow. The reputation of House Duskmere will depend heavily on your actions. Do not bring disgrace upon this house."
The table went quiet for a heartbeat.
Then, in unison:
"Understood."
A short silence followed brief, but not tense.
Then Lynn, her voice soft and curious, turned to Ceris. "Big sister Ceris… can I try that steak cut?" she asked, pointing to the piece on Ceris's plate.
Ceris blinked, then without hesitation, cut the steak into bite-sized pieces. She held one up with her fork and said gently, "Here. Aaahh~~"
Lynn giggled and leaned forward to take the bite, clearly delighted.
Ethan, mid-chew, paused and simply stared.
Ceris raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Ethan shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing. I was just thinking… you'd probably make a great mom one day."
Across the table, Arthur mid-sip of his tea choked slightly.
He cleared his throat, setting the cup down a little too firmly.
Maelin, ever so composed, wore a knowing grin. "My, oh my…" she murmured, clearly amused.
Sylviane's gaze flicked between everyone at the table, eyes narrowing slightly. She didn't say a word, but her expression said it all: Something definitely happened.
Kite, who had been quietly enjoying his food, suddenly reached over and patted Ethan on the back.
Ethan glanced at him, puzzled until he saw Kite flash him a wide grin and a confident thumbs-up, the universal sign of "good job."
Ethan stared, blinking once. "What job?" he muttered under his breath.
Kite just kept grinning, completely unfazed.
Ethan sighed and went back to his food, trying very hard not to look as flustered as he felt.
At the entrance of the dining hall, Carter stood silently, one hand covering his mouth, his eyes shimmering with emotion.
Tears of joy streamed down his face like a proud parent witnessing their child's first triumph.
Behind him, Lillia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, offering a firm nod of approval.
"Good job, Ethan," she said with a smile.
Ethan glanced toward the doorway, his fork frozen mid-air. "Wait—what are you crying for?!"
Carter sniffled dramatically, wiping his eyes. "Our boy's growing up so fast..."
Lillia sighed, patting his shoulder again. "Let him have his moment."