The training grounds had never been louder.
Steel rang against steel, boots tore into the packed earth, and shouted commands ricocheted through the open air like cannon fire. Nobles gathered at the perimeter, some genuinely interested, others merely hunting for spectacle. The palace banners snapped in the breeze, their shadows sweeping across the ground like watchful wings.
And in the center of it all stood Aliena.
She rolled her shoulders back, bow in hand, trying very hard not to think about the fact that half the court was watching her and that one particular prince had not taken his eyes off her since earlier.
Sebastian stood a few paces away, posture rigid, arms folded behind his back. He looked composed. Cold. Impossibly princely.
He was none of those things.
Across the field, Prince Miquel leaned lazily against a rack of practice weapons, his attention fixed entirely on Aliena. Not subtly. Not politely. Openly.
Sebastian noticed.
Of course he did.
