Valeria made me meet her at dawn, because apparently pride wakes up early.
The duel pit was empty except for lanterns still glowing faintly from last night and the sand that held the footprints of a hundred spectators who'd watched her lose in one embarrassing tap.
She stood in the center of the ring in training gear instead of full armor today, braid tight, jaw tighter, wooden practice sword in hand like it had personally offended her.
"You're late," she snapped.
"I'm on time," I said, checking the sun like it could testify.
"You're late emotionally," Valeria said.
I blinked. "What does that mean."
"It means you look too awake," she hissed. "Stop looking awake."
I tried to make my face more miserable.
Valeria looked satisfied.
"Good," she said. "Now. Stance."
I stepped onto the sand and held the practice sword the way I always held it, which was wrong.
Valeria exhaled sharply like she was trying not to scream.
"Hands," she ordered. "Not like that. You're holding it like a spoon."
"It's a stick," I muttered.
"It's a weapon," she snapped. Then, after a beat, quieter, "And you're dangerous with it."
I smirked before I could stop myself. "I'm dangerous."
Valeria's eyes narrowed. "Do not get smug."
I tried to look neutral.
Valeria's gaze flicked to my mouth for half a second, then she looked away like she'd seen something illegal.
"Grip," she said harshly.
She stepped closer, then froze like she remembered something important.
Consent.
Her cheeks went slightly pink, which would've been cute if she wasn't trying so hard to be furious.
"May I," she said stiffly, "touch your hands. To correct your grip."
I lifted my hands slightly. "Yes."
Valeria's fingers wrapped around my wrists and knuckles, firm but careful. She adjusted my grip, then moved my elbows, then stepped behind me to correct my stance.
Her presence at my back did something to my brain. It wasn't even lewd. Just close. Just her breath near my ear. Just her hands guiding me like she actually cared whether I lived.
Valeria's voice dropped lower, strict and concentrated.
"Feet apart," she said. "Knees soft. Core steady."
I swallowed. "Core steady."
Valeria's hand pressed lightly to my side through my shirt, correcting my posture.
"Stop repeating me," she snapped.
"I'm learning," I said.
"You're teasing," she muttered, but her voice sounded less angry and more… flustered.
That was new.
So naturally, I tested it.
"Dame Valeria," I said, innocent.
"What," she snapped.
"Your hands are warm," I said.
Silence.
Valeria's fingers stopped moving.
Her ears went red.
She yanked her hands back and stepped away like she'd touched a hot pan.
"Of course they're warm," she snapped. "I'm alive."
"I didn't say you weren't," I said, trying not to grin.
Valeria pointed her practice sword at me like it was a threat. "Focus."
"I am focusing," I said.
"You're smiling," she hissed.
"I'm not."
"You are," Valeria said, furious.
I held up both hands in surrender. "Okay. I'll stop."
Valeria glared at me like she didn't believe in stopping.
"Swing," she ordered.
I swung.
It was still clumsy, but less clumsy. The blade cut the air, and for once it didn't look like I was trying to swat a fly.
Valeria's eyes narrowed, assessing.
"Again."
I swung again.
She paced in front of me like a strict instructor. Then she stepped close, lifted her hand, and paused.
Her jaw clenched. "May I adjust your shoulder."
I nodded. "Yes."
She touched my shoulder, guiding it down, then let her hand linger half a second longer than necessary.
She noticed.
I noticed.
Valeria jerked her hand back instantly, cheeks red.
"That was not," she snapped, "what you think it was."
"I didn't think anything," I said.
Valeria's eyes narrowed. "Liar."
I coughed. "Okay, I thought you were being nice."
Valeria looked personally offended by the word nice.
"I am not nice," she snapped.
I looked at her braid, her strict posture, her stubborn mouth.
Then I said it anyway.
"You're cute when you're mad."
The sand stopped existing.
Valeria went completely still.
Then her face turned red like a warning flag.
"I am not cute," she said, each word clipped like a sword strike.
"You are," I said.
"I am not," she snapped louder.
"You're blushing," I added, softly.
Valeria's eyes widened like she'd been shot.
She lifted both hands up, as if surrendering to invisible law. "My face is warm because I am training."
"You're not moving," I said.
Valeria's jaw clenched so hard I thought her pride might crack again.
"Do not," she hissed, "use my body against me."
I tilted my head. "Your body."
Valeria's entire soul tried to leave her through her ears.
"That's not what I meant," she snapped.
I grinned. "Sure."
Valeria stepped forward so fast I almost stumbled back. She pointed the practice sword at my chest, very close but not touching.
"Ren," she said, voice low and dangerous, "I will win next time."
I looked down at the sword point, then back up at her eyes.
"Promise," I said.
Valeria's breath caught.
"What," she snapped.
"I like when you're confident," I said.
Valeria's lips parted, then closed.
She looked away, then back, like she was trying to decide whether to duel me or run.
"You're trying to distract me," she accused.
I shrugged. "Maybe."
Valeria's cheeks flared red again.
She thrust her practice sword at me. "Parry."
I barely parried.
She attacked again, controlled but fast, and I parried again, barely.
"Better," she snapped, and then, like she hated herself for it, she added, "Good."
The word good hit me like a kiss permit stamp.
I blinked. "Did you just praise me."
Valeria immediately looked like she wanted to die.
"I did not," she snapped.
"You did," I said, delighted.
Valeria swung at me harder. "Shut up."
I parried, laughing.
She stepped in close again, too close for a normal spar, and her blade stopped just short of my shoulder.
"Stop laughing," she hissed.
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "Make me."
Valeria froze like she'd been struck by a spell.
Her eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again, like her pride and her feelings were wrestling.
"I could," she snapped, but her voice had gone rough.
"You could what," I asked, softer.
Valeria's face went nuclear.
She stepped back so abruptly her boot scuffed the sand.
"Break," she snapped.
"A break," I repeated.
"Yes," she said. "Drink water. Stop… looking."
"Looking at you," I said.
Valeria glared. "Yes."
I took a sip from my water flask very slowly, never breaking eye contact, because apparently I had chosen violence today.
Valeria's ears went red again.
"Ren," she snapped, "you're doing it on purpose."
"Doing what," I asked.
"That," she said, waving vaguely at my face, "that tone. That stare. That stupid… hero thing."
"The hero thing," I repeated.
"You're acting like you can handle me," Valeria hissed.
I lowered my voice again, smiling.
"Maybe I can."
Valeria's breath caught. Her pride tried to stand up straight. Her feelings tried to hide behind a wall and fail.
She took one step toward me.
Then stopped.
Because the rules mattered, even when she was losing a private battle.
Valeria swallowed. "May I… fix your cloak clasp."
I blinked.
The cloak the queen gave me. The clasp was slightly off-center because I dressed like a disaster.
"That's not related to training," I said.
Valeria snapped, "It is related to you looking sloppy."
I lifted my hands. "Yes. You can."
Valeria stepped close and fixed the clasp, fingers careful, visible, proper.
But her knuckles brushed my throat for a second.
I inhaled sharply.
Valeria froze, eyes wide, like she'd just committed a crime.
"Sorry," she blurted, furious.
"It's fine," I whispered.
Valeria's gaze dropped to my mouth again.
I noticed.
So I leaned in slightly and whispered, shamelessly, "You keep looking there."
Valeria looked like she'd been stabbed.
"I do not," she snapped.
"You do," I said. "Do you want a kiss."
Valeria's entire body locked.
She didn't move. Didn't breathe. Didn't blink.
Then she snapped, too loudly, "No."
I waited.
Valeria's cheeks turned even redder.
"…Not here," she added quickly, like she could patch it with words.
I lifted a brow. "Not here."
Valeria's eyes widened in horror at what she'd implied.
"That's not," she stammered, "I meant— I meant—"
I leaned back, grinning. "Relax. I'm teasing."
Valeria's pride flared. "I know you're teasing."
"Do you hate it," I asked.
Valeria opened her mouth, then closed it.
Then, like it pained her, she said, "No."
Just one syllable.
But it landed like a win.
I softened my voice.
"Valeria," I said, "you don't have to pretend you hate me."
Valeria's eyes flicked up to mine, sharp and conflicted.
"I don't hate you," she snapped.
Then she looked away, cheeks red, and added in a much smaller voice, "Idiot."
I laughed quietly. "There it is."
Valeria whirled on me. "Do not sound pleased."
"I am pleased," I said.
Valeria's face went red again. "Stop."
I stepped closer, careful, leaving space.
"May I," I said, copying her tone, "touch your braid."
Valeria stiffened like a statue.
"Why," she snapped.
"Because it's neat," I said. "And you're always so perfect. I want to see if it's real."
Valeria's breath caught.
She hesitated.
Then she muttered, barely audible, "Fine. One touch. Quick."
I lifted my hand slowly, giving her time to refuse.
She didn't.
I touched her braid lightly, fingertips brushing the woven hair like it was silk rope.
Valeria's shoulders tensed.
Her breath shuddered.
And her face turned so red I thought she might actually combust.
I lowered my voice, playful but gentle.
"Cute," I whispered.
Valeria jerked away like she'd been struck, then immediately looked furious at herself for reacting.
"I am not," she snapped.
I smiled. "You are."
Valeria pointed her sword at me again, but her hand was shaking slightly.
"Spar," she ordered, voice too rough.
"Okay," I said, still smiling.
We sparred again, faster this time, her pride throwing attacks while her eyes kept flicking to my mouth like it was the real opponent.
She pushed me back.
I parried.
She stepped in.
I matched her.
And then, in the middle of the exchange, I said softly, just to ruin her,
"You're pretty."
Valeria's blade stopped for a fraction of a second.
My sword tapped hers.
Her defense faltered.
She staggered back.
Not from force.
From the compliment.
The crowd wasn't here. The harem wasn't here. The city wasn't chanting.
It was just her, standing in the sand, breath uneven, pride cracked open again.
Valeria glared at me like I'd cheated.
"That is not fair," she whispered, furious.
I tilted my head. "Do you want me to stop."
Valeria's mouth opened.
Then she snapped, louder, "No."
I smiled slowly. "Then admit it."
Valeria's cheeks went red.
"Admit what," she snapped.
"That you like me," I said, shameless.
Valeria exploded instantly.
"I do not like you," she barked.
Then, after a beat, quieter, like her pride was dying in real time, she added, "I just… don't dislike you."
I laughed softly.
Valeria looked ready to murder me.
"Shut up," she hissed.
I leaned in slightly, voice warm.
"Make me," I whispered again.
Valeria froze.
Her eyes widened.
Her breath caught.
And for a terrifying second it looked like she might actually close the distance.
Then a voice came from the ring entrance, cheerful and lethal.
"Ren," Yuki called, "you finished your secret training. Great. Now it's time for the daily affection loop."
Valeria's face went from red to deathly offended.
"What," she snapped.
Rika's head popped in behind Yuki's shoulder like a curious animal.
"Ooooh," Rika chirped. "He was alone with Valeria. That's so romantic. Did you kiss."
Valeria shouted, "NO."
Sofia strolled in next, smirking. "She yelled no very loudly. Suspicious."
Freya appeared, grinning like she smelled gossip. "Did he call you cute."
Valeria's face turned red again.
Charlotte stepped in calmly. "He did."
Valeria snapped, "How would you know."
Charlotte smiled politely. "I can tell."
Kaori peeked in shyly, eyes wide. "Valeria, your face is… very warm."
Valeria looked like she wanted to bury herself in the sand.
Elise entered last, expression severe, tether chain firm.
She looked at me, then at Valeria, then at the way Valeria was standing too close even now.
Elise's eyes narrowed. "Did she behave."
Valeria straightened instantly. "Yes."
Elise's gaze shifted to my mouth like she was checking evidence.
I cleared my throat. "We were just training."
Valeria snapped, "Yes. Training. Only training."
Rika tilted her head. "Then why does Valeria look like she got kissed by a compliment."
Valeria shouted, "I DID NOT."
Freya laughed. "She did."
Sofia smirked. "He broke her pride again. With words this time."
Valeria glared at me with pure fury and something painfully obvious hiding underneath it.
"Idiot," she hissed, low enough that only I heard.
I smiled, low enough for only her.
"See you tomorrow," I whispered.
Valeria's ears went red again.
"Tch," she snapped. "As if I'm excited."
Then she turned and marched out of the ring like she was fleeing a battlefield.
But she didn't let go of the truth fast enough.
As she passed me, she muttered, barely audible, like a secret she hated.
"…Don't flirt with the others too much."
I blinked.
Then I grinned, because I was evil too.
"Yes, my undefeated knight," I whispered.
Valeria almost tripped.