If Elian thought Prince Cassian was scary when he was cold, he had clearly underestimated how terrifying the Prince was when he was irritated.
They were back at the Royal Training Grounds. It had been three hours since the "Signing Disaster."
Cassian was currently dismantling a wooden training dummy with a blunt practice sword. He wasn't using technique. He was using pure, unadulterated rage.
WHACK.
"She called me..." WHACK. "...a bear!" WHACK. "A dying bear!"
Splinters flew through the air. The dummy's head rolled across the dirt, coming to a stop at Elian's feet.
Elian picked up the wooden head. "To be fair, Sire, bears are apex predators. It's a compliment."
"It was not a compliment!" Cassian roared, spinning around. His chest was heaving, sweat soaking through his shirt. "She said my breathing was loud! My breathing! Have you heard her laugh? It sounds like a seagull choking on a trumpet!"
