Rowan didn't approach him. Not at first.
But Kael felt the weight of his gaze over the next few days — in the training yard, the dining hall, the lecture chambers of the Royal Academy. The way Rowan looked at him wasn't hostile… yet. It was the look of someone trying to solve a puzzle that shouldn't exist.
Kael wasn't in the story Rowan knew.
And now Rowan was trying to figure out if he should be.
Kael kept to himself as much as he could. He attended basic combat drills with the younger nobles — though his weapon was dull and his footing poor. He volunteered for library errands to access maps, histories, and court records. Every night, he reviewed the book's timeline, trying to predict where the next break would come.
But fate, it seemed, had already decided to shove him into the spotlight.
********
The Duel
It started with a scuffle in the training yard.
Kael was practicing footwork when a boy from House Dareth — smug, arrogant, and eager to climb — tripped him deliberately. "Careful, rat. Don't want you to get peasant blood on the prince's tiles."
Kael stood slowly, brushing dirt from his tunic. "Was that supposed to be clever?"
The boy sneered. "Was that supposed to be a comeback?"
The other students chuckled. Kael glanced at the instructors, but none intervened. Nobles sorting out their hierarchy was part of the Academy culture.
The boy lunged again, trying to shove Kael into the mud.
Kael dodged and, without thinking, twisted into a basic counter throw — one he'd practiced silently in the servant halls back at Blackthorn. The arrogant noble landed flat on his back, gasping.
Silence.
Then a slow clap echoed across the yard.
Rowan.
He stepped forward, eyes glittering. "Interesting. You're better than you look."
Kael didn't answer.
Rowan smiled thinly. "What's your name?"
"Kael."
"Kael," Rowan repeated. "I don't remember you in the enrollment scrolls."
"I'm not a student," Kael replied calmly. "Just part of Lord Blackthorn's retinue."
Rowan tilted his head. "And yet here you are — tossing noble blood into the dirt. Either you're brave… or very stupid."
A tension settled over the yard. One of Rowan's companions muttered, "Maybe he wants a real fight."
Kael knew he should walk away. Knew this was the kind of moment that spiraled.
But something in him — maybe pride, maybe survival — refused.
"I'll accept a duel," Kael said evenly, "if you want one."
Gasps. Laughter. Shock.
But Rowan… grinned.
"Tomorrow. At dawn. No magic. Training blades only. First to yield."
He leaned in slightly. "Let's see what kind of story you think you're writing."