'Maybe this is what happens when none of them were ever directly trained by that geezer,' Ezra thought, folding his arms across his chest. 'They truly have no idea what he is capable of.'
The knights were tense, yes.
But not the right kind of tense.
Not the kind that comes from experience.
Only Ezra and the three princes had visibly stiffened.
Because they knew.
Aamon was selective. Years ago, when he still oversaw training grounds personally, he never did it alone. Other captains from his generation stood beside him.
But when it comes to true discipline… real shaping…
That had been reserved.
Aamon, as the king's most trusted confidante, had been chosen to train the three princes himself. Only a handful of selected squires had ever endured his full attention.
To the average knight, Aamon was frightening because of his position.
Because of his strictness.
Because of the way he never smiled unless something had gone very wrong.
But to those who had stood under him—
