Duchess Alia thought he was the textbook personification of precision as she continued to learn his movents.
Every parry, dodge, and soft block was so clean, so lethal—but also so singular. She absorbed his rhythm, catalogued his tendencies, and recognized the subtle priorities of an assassin forced into a duelist’s arena.
"Too clean," she noted aloud, catching his wrist mid-punch with a spiritual clamp that materialized into being.
He countered instantly, his free hand layering spiritual energy into a burst along her inner elbow, forcing her grip to slacken. He spun backward, breaking free.
The audience held their breath as the Duchess clapped lightly, pleased.
"Your precision’s beautiful. But precision alone doesn’t win wars."
Because he’s too clean, anyone experienced enough would likely be able to tell what he will prioritize next.
Let’s see.
She stepped in, her speed abruptly doubling as she pressed her advantage. Xavier’s spiritual perception sharpened, the world slowing in his sight—but her layered, chaotic approach kept him scrambling.
First ca a low and deceptive kick. It was weaker than it should be and was blocked easily, but it was a smokescreen to set him up for her next strike, an overhead chop that got him raising his forearm as a shield.
That was blocked only for him to be subjected to her sudden mid-motion redirection, where the duchess dropped a spinning backfist powered by spiritual acceleration.
It collided against his ribs before he could re-adjust.
He grunted, absorbing the blow, his internal defenses reinforcing under the impact. His endurance held. But montum belonged to her now.
"Your defenses are good. But predictable," she said softly, almost kindly.
A knee blurred toward his core. He layered spiritual armor over his stomach. But she used the bounce to vault upward, flipping over him, heel crackling with spiritual force as it arced toward her target.
Xavier spun aside, the attack grazing his shoulder, sending a wave of pain down his arm.
"Still standing? Good," she approved, landing lightly behind him.
He pivoted, lashing an elbow that she intercepted. He followed up with a flurry of reinforced jabs, which she blocked effortlessly, micro-barriers shimring as they dissolved his strikes one by one.
"I’ve likely fought your teachers," she murmured, weaving inside his range. "They taught you well."
She pald his chest with a layered spiritual push, sending him skidding backward.
"But I’m going to have to teach you to fight soone like ."
And then she was upon him.
To the onlookers, it looked like a sudden, weaving blitz. And it felt like that to Xavier, too. Different strikes, different weights, and all accelerated by spiritual energy that offset his defenses until it was forced to crumble.
Xavier dropped low in response, but she was already airborne. Her shadow fell over him as a descending palm cracked down, and her spiritual energy exploded outward like a gong.
The floor dented beneath him.
Dust settled.
Xavier lay on his back, chest heaving, vision swimming—but conscious.
Duchess Alia stood above him, offering a hand.
"You’ll need a few more techniques if you want to be able to go up against the best of them. They’re not ancients for nothing," she said quietly.
Xavier took her hand and was hauled up effortlessly.
"Co back after you heal properly. Recuperation is part of training, especially for soone with your responsibilities." Her smile sharpened, eyes gleaming like a predator’s. "Don’t let hear you’re rushing back out before you’re ready."
He nodded faintly, and for the first ti in a long while, the Imperial Crown Prince found himself in a dical tank.
anwhile, the watching guards thought about how lucky they were to only be competing against each other.
Word spread fast, but suddenly, word about fainting Lords followed, and the people were thrown into disarray.
Especially one prince who woke up to the news that Luca had fainted after seeing him.
Xavier was partly worried because seeing a dical tank might have triggered sothing in him, but he was surprised to learn about the actual reason from his wife’s entourage.
Now, the dical tank wasn’t exactly a far-off guess, but D-29 said that its host’s last thought was about taking deadly blows for another person.
"What?" reacted the Captain, who looked at Jax like he had the answers to the problem. But the heavens know he hasn’t even figured out why Ollie fainted in the first place!
Thankfully, the marquise took pity on him and decided to explain what happened.
"Are you Luca’s partner? If so, then it might be best to inform you about what happened." Sighed the mother, who did not expect the turn of events!
Xavier nodded as he looked at the passed-out Luca before looking up at her from where he sat.
Marquise Julienne wasn’t sure where to begin, but decided to talk about everything that happened in the Aquaponics Complex.
"I apologize because I didn’t think it would be such a foreign concept to both of them."
"Ollie needed to learn why he couldn’t just expect anyone to take deadly blows for him, and I guess, Luca thought that sothing like that happened just as we were talking about it."
"I see...Thank you for informing , My Lady. I think this was all just an accident," trailed the prince, who held the hand of his pale wife and wasn’t sure whether to laugh or lant this situation.
"But Captain, what’s got you sent into the dical Bay? Even I’m surprised about you being here!"
Kyle found it very unusual because Xavier did not like going to centers that weren’t familiar with his actual records, and that was basically all the other places, save for a secluded section in the military hospital.
But what do you know, they just found him here! So, was there an ergency they didn’t know about?
"It was nothing. Just recovering from sparring."
"..."
"?!"
"Say what now?! Sparring?!" What kind of monster did you spar with for you to end up in a hospital?!"
His adjutant was actually right to react like that, for even Xavier thought along the sa lines.
"I was training under Duchess Alia, and we sparred for a bit."
"..."
"That’s supposed to be a little bit—?!"
Kyle actually wanted to ask more about it, but the Captain suddenly said, "Shhh..." because Luca suddenly stirred.
Panicked golden-eyes opened up with a start, and the heir who had just passed out suddenly bolted up on the sick bed.
"Xavier...!" He whispered hoarsely, breath catching.
"I’m here." Xavier’s voice softened imdiately, and when Luca turned his gaze, startled, the prince was there—real and steady beside him.
Luca clung to the white-haired giant like a tiny, trembling bundle, his small hands fisting into Xavier’s uniform as if afraid he might slip away. His soft, flushed cheeks pressed against the familiar hard chest, his muffled voice barely escaping.
"I-what happened...?" He mumbled, though his hold only tightened.
Xavier gave a quiet, low laugh, the sound a soft rumble in his chest. His hand glided slowly down the little dragon’s spine, fingertips tracing gentle, soothing paths while his thumb circled lazily near the small of his back.
"I was out training," Xavier murmured, his voice smooth, cool, and edged with fond amusent. "With the Duchess."
He felt Luca stiffen slightly, his soft, warm ear practically glowing where it brushed against him.
"Not with anyone else."
His little chipmunk peeked up at him shyly, golden eyes darting away when they t Xavier’s. His little pout was unmistakable, even if he tried to hide it by pressing closer.
The prince’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. He leaned in just enough to let his breath brush Luca’s ear.
"It would be close to impossible, you know," he whispered low, his voice like silk. "For to risk myself recklessly. Because that would not be good for you."
Luca’s breath hitched, his tiny shoulders trembling faintly—not from fear, but from the way Xavier’s words coiled around him, both soothing and flustering all at once.
"A-and I wasn’t—I wasn’t thinking about anything like that..." the flustered wife tried to defend, his voice trailing weakly as Xavier’s hand slid up, cupping the back of his head, fingers threading lightly through his hair.
"Mm. I see."
Luca buried his face against his husband’s chest with a muffled squeak, the tips of his ears burning red.
"I must’ve made a mistake then. But just keep that in mind," he murmured, his hand never stopping its gentle motion along Luca’s spine.
And as Luca clung tighter, his tiny murmurs dissolved into barely audible flutters until the door opened with a bang and an ow.
"Ow!"
"Tsk. What did I say about being so noisy?!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers