I couldn't sit still.
The moment sunlight slanted through the silken drapes of my chamber, I was already pacing the floor like a caged animal, bare feet muffled by the woven rug.
My fingertips grazed the lacquered surface of a carved screen, then clenched at my side. Again. And again.
Elise sat on a cushioned stool, silent, watching me with the kind of quiet dread one reserves for madwomen or queens.
"My lady..." she finally ventured, voice soft. "You haven't touched your tea."
I ignored her.
The events of yesterday played in my head like an unending loop, flesh colliding, steel meeting steel, the weight of a man's arm as i threw him over my shoulder.
Their masked faces.
The blood that stained my sleeve.
The way Elise had looked at me, terrified and in awe.
"They weren't his men," I muttered aloud, more to myself than her.
Elise blinked. "Your Highness?"
"The three masked men who attacked us. They weren't from the palace. They weren't Lucien's." I stopped pacing, finally facing her. "He wouldn't do that. Not... not like that."
She looked unsure. "But how can you—"
"Because he would've watched me fall himself. Not sent cowards to stab me in an alley."
That was the thing with Lucien. Cold. Calculated. Unforgiving. But never indirect. If he wanted me dead, I'd be dead already. He wouldn't need three clumsy assassins with dull swords and poor footing.
"So who would dare?" I whispered.
Elise didn't answer.
She knew better than to interrupt my thoughts.
Was it someone inside the palace?
I thought of Lady Mei.
Her painted smile.
Her venom-laced words disguised as compliments.
Her servant who confessed to stabbing her only because she was told to. Could it be her again? Would she try something so bold, so public?
No... even she wasn't foolish enough to make another move so soon. Not when i was already watching her every step.
Then who?
Who had motive, proximity, and the gall to strike at a Crown Princess in open daylight?
My hand drifted unconsciously to the hilt of the blade strapped at my hip.
I hadn't taken it off since last night.
I slept with it beneath my pillow.
I couldn't afford to feel safe.
Not even in my own chambers.
A sharp knock shattered the stillness.
Elise rose, startled. "Who—"
The door creaked open.
Lucien.
Standing in his usual black, expression unreadable, but eyes, sharp and unreadable, flicking briefly to the sword at my side.
I didn't move.
He stepped in like he owned the space, like his shadow belonged on every wall of this room. "You're up early."
I gave him nothing.
"Come," he said simply. "Outside."
"To where?"
He smirked, barely. "You want to grow stronger? Let's see what you can do."
He turned and left, expecting i'd follow.
And i did.
—
The palace courtyard was empty when we arrived, save for two guards stationed at a respectful distance.
My boots crunched against the stone tiles as i stepped forward, heart already thrumming with a strange mix of nerves and anticipation.
Lucien stood at the center, unsheathing his blade, not the ceremonial one he wore for appearances, but a real one, worn from use.
"You said you could fight." He didn't look at me. "Prove it."
I didn't respond.
I just drew my sword, the familiar hiss of metal soothing me like a breath i hadn't known i was holding.
The first clash rang out a moment later.
Steel against steel.
I met his blade with mine, sparks leaping between us as our weapons collided.
He was fast.
Too fast.
Even when i pivoted, ducked, struck from an unexpected angle, he was already there, parrying, turning, countering.
He didn't hold back.
This wasn't training.
This was war.
I gritted my teeth, muscles burning as i blocked another downward strike.
My blade trembled under the force of his.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He overpowered me with ease, but never mocked me for it.
His face remained calm, as if testing a theory he already knew the answer to.
Round after round, I fell.
Sometimes to my knees.
Once, flat on my back, the wind knocked from my lungs as his blade hovered an inch from my throat.
"Dead," he said simply.
I refused his hand.
I got up.
I charged again.
He disarmed me in less than ten seconds.
I cursed under my breath, reaching for the blade again, sweat beading on my forehead, fury licking at my chest like wildfire.
Still, I got up.
Still, I fought.
Until the last round ended with his sword pressed to my shoulder and mine on the ground once more.
Lucien stepped back.
"You're not bad," he said, voice flat, "but not good enough."
I turned away, panting.
"Do you know why you lose?" he asked.
"Because you're stronger," I snapped.
He shook his head. "Because you fight angry."
I glared at him.
"You swing with rage, not control. You're clouded by fear and revenge." He sheathed his sword. "That makes you predictable."
I swallowed hard, my pride throbbing like a bruise.
He paused, eyes flicking to the red mark on my neck from the earlier strike. "Rest. Then come back."
He left without another word.
And i stood there.
Sweating.
Breathing hard.
Alone.
Still not enough.
But gods, I was getting close.
I sat on the edge of the small koi pond behind the servant gardens, cradling my bandaged hand.
The water shimmered. The fish darted beneath lily pads, unbothered by war or politics or failed duels.
I thought of Lucien's words.
You'll never beat me.
And he was right.
I couldn't beat him.
Not yet.
Because he'd already learned what i hadn't.
That anger isn't a weapon. It's a chain.
I pressed my palm against my thigh, letting the pain ground me.
I needed to unlearn everything.
Not just the fear.
Not just the rage.
But the need to prove i was worthy.
Because worth wasn't proven by how many times i stood.
It was in how i stood after i knew i'd fall.
So i would keep falling.
Keep failing.
Keep returning to that courtyard, sword in hand, pride in pieces, ready to be broken again.
Until one day, maybe not tomorrow, or the day after, but one day, I'd raise my blade...
…and he wouldn't be able to stop me.
Not because i fought harder.
But because i finally learned how to fight smarter.
And maybe, when that day came, he'd finally look at me—
Not as the Demoness Princess.
But as the one who'd finally arrived.