Miles Nazau stood at the back of the Royal Great Hall, absentmindedly holding a glass of wine. Around him, the ecstatic coronation attendees milled around, their brilliant-colored clothing turning the bright hall into a kaleidoscope of different hues. Laughter danced around him as if he were floating in a sea of joy, his sour mood staining the waters.

  As the sons of Falkan Nazau, Miles and his three elder brothers represented the Great House of Nazau at Queen Milina’s coronation.

  Taking a sip of his wine, he tried to keep the depression and worthlessness he felt from overwhelming him, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. Surrounded by happy and exuberant partygoers, he wished he were anywhere else, somewhere quiet, somewhere where he was not the son of Falkan Nazau—the Tiger Lord of Vanura.

  Falkan Nazau was a man never to be crossed, his battle-hardened body and fearsome reputation enough to make even famous warriors cower in fear. Yet, Miles had not inherited his father’s strength or courage. His body was soft and boyish, and his actions more foolish than brave.

  “Cheer up, Miles. Here, eat this,” Ronan, his brother who was closest in age to him, said, walking over and handing him a plate of sweets. “The pastries are quite enjoyable.”

  Ronan was the most intelligent of their family, his unnatural ability to grasp complex concepts or situations earning him the nickname Scholar of the North. When it came to intelligence alone, no one could rival him.

  “I don't want to eat,” Miles mumbled, staring down at the plate of food in his hand. “I brought shame to our family. Father hates me. He can’t even attend the new Queen’s coronation because of me. He had to bring our army to the north. Lord Apra invaded our lands because I decided to duel his daughter. You don't know what it's like to lose a duel like that. You can’t.”

  As the words tumbled out of his mouth, he froze, seeing the hurt cross his brother’s face. “I didn’t mean that. I’m so sorry. I wasn't thinking,” he stammered, wishing he could take back what he had just said.

  Why do I always ruin everything?

  Ronan, his kind brother, had not inherited their family’s Crest, making it impossible for him to draw Aether since birth. Being born without a family Crest was rare—almost a curse. It had tarnished their family's reputation.

  Without a gate of power, Ronan could never be a warrior. He would fight true warriors, never be seen as anything more than someone to be pitied or quietly cursed.

  In the North, it was common to hear villagers lament Ronan’s fate. With sorrowful voices, they would cry that if only he were born with the family Crest, his intelligence would have made him a legend. Then they would sigh in sorrow, shake their heads, and return to work.

  Hitting himself in his mind, Miles turned away, knowing his need to bully his self-worth had inadvertently brought up his brother’s biggest insecurity.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Sighing heavily, Ronan took the plate of food and wine from him and placed them on a table. Stepping forward, he pulled Miles into a firm hug, his arms tightly wrapped around his younger brother’s chest.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. But challenging your ex-fiancée to a duel… wasn’t smart. Losing made it worse. Still, Father doesn’t hate you. And even if he does, remember this: I will always be on your side. I will always have your back.”

  Ronan stared into Miles’ eyes, a small, reassuring smile on his face. “We are the weakest in our family. We are not as strong as Cripton, or as fearless as Ryker. But we are still sons of Nazau. I promise you. I will do everything in my power to make everyone respect us. You don't have to believe in yourself yet. Just trust me, and I’ll make it happen.”

  Trying to keep from crying and causing a scene, Miles nodded at his brother. He trusted him.

  “Let's go find Cripton and Ryker, we need to congratulate Queen Milina, as a family,” his brother said, breaking his hug and grinning. “Neither of them is known for their words.”

  Wiping the corners of his eyes with his sleeve, Miles nodded, feeling much better than he had just a moment ago.

  “Yes, let’s go.”

  Following his brother through the crowd of chatting nobles and merchants, Miles weaved his way between a group from House Ruscell and an unfamiliar group of traders. Reaching the spot where they had last seen Cripton and Ryker, he stood on his tiptoe, searching for his brothers. Spotting his eldest brother’s broad, unmistakable back, he raised his hand and called out, “Cripton, over here!”

  Cripton was everything a noble House could hope for in a son. His prowess as a warrior was already beginning to show, even in his spring years. He had wide, broad shoulders that connected to tree trunk-like arms, with a core composed of pure muscle. Even his ability to manipulate Aether was beyond someone of his age. But what Miles envied most was Cripton’s uncanny ability to turn anything he ate into muscle, never once worrying about his health or appearance.

  Hearing Miles’ voice, Cripton turned, his fierce presence radiating the strength and pride of their Tiger Crest. “Miles! Ronan!” he boomed, striding towards them. The crowd parted for him without his need to ask, allowing the three of them to meet.

  “What do you think of Queen Milina?” Cripton asked, turning to Ronan.

  Ronan frowned thoughtfully, tapping his finger against his chin. “House Salizia is bankrupt… You can tell that by looking at the city. But after seeing the Queen and Prince Hector, I think there’s hope. House Salizia can rise again… if the Queen’s future husband doesn’t ruin it all.” He paused, then added. “Oh, and did either of you notice her armor?”

  “Her armor?” Miles echoed, confused by the sudden shift in observation.

  “It was made by an Elven blacksmith, a master one at that.”

  Miles turned, hearing his brother Ryker answer his question. Ryker had just walked up to them, noticing the three of them huddled together.

  Ryker was leaner than Cripton but still composed of pure muscle; his wiry body looked as if strands of rope were under his skin.

  Looking around at his brother's faces, Miles realized he was the only one who did not recognize that an Elven blacksmith made the armor. Feeling his face turn warm in embarrassment, he once again looked down, wishing he were as reliable as his brothers. For some reason, he always had trouble noticing important details.

  “We should congratulate the Queen,” Ronan said, snapping Miles out of his gloom as he nodded towards the new Queen.

  “I agree,” Cripton said. “Our families have always been allies. It’s a good opportunity to introduce ourselves. Follow me.”

  As Miles walked behind his brothers, he heard a loud shout.

  “Mayaga! You’ve crossed the line. That was an insult to the Kingdom of Kandula. I challenge you to a duel. But be warned, in a duel of honor, losing your life is not uncommon!”

  Jumping at the sudden outburst, Miles felt his heart race rapidly, his hands turning clammy. He did not like unexpected noise.

  A hush settled down in the Great Hall as the guests all quieted down, their heads turning to see where the shout had come from.

  “Are you trying to intimidate me, Prince Orda?” laughter filled the abrupt silence.

  Rooted in place, Miles watched as the guests quickly moved aside, forming a wide circle around the two arguing parties. Queen Milina was caught in the middle. Turning to his brothers, he silently asked them who the arguing people were.

  “Who are they?”

  “The one in blue is Prince Mayaga from Silkbug, the other one is Prince Orda from Kandula,” replied Ronan, a frown on his face.

  “It's surprising that Prince Orda would challenge Prince Mayaga. If the rumors are true, Prince Mayaga should be an Arcane Lord, a strong one at that!” Ryker added, reaching over to a servant holding a tray of wine and taking a glass.

  “But why are they going to fight?” Miles asked, his eyes widening at what was happening around him.

  “According to Father, the two Princes are candidates for Queen Milina’s hand. If I had to guess, one of the two Princes tried to throw their weight around in front of the other,” answered Ronan, the frown on his face turning into a grimace.

  “There is one interesting gossip about Prince Orda,” chirped Ryker, a wicked smile appearing on his face. “There is talk that Prince Orda was born with his mother’s Crest and not the Royal Crest of Kandula.”

  “Don't talk about such things in public,” stated Cripton, his arms crossed, his eyes studying the two princes as they walk to opposite sides of the circle. “But it would be interesting to see if Prince Orda allows the use of Aether during the duel. If the rumors are true, he cannot draw Aether without exposing himself.”

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  Swallowing nervously, Miles watched as the two princes accepted the swords handed to them.

  Among the nobility, duels were a common way to resolve disputes or perceived slights—challenges declared for the slightest offense. He had even challenged his former fiancée to a duel after she broke off their engagement. In a world where one’s strength could be seen by the placement of their Crest, hierarchy and rank were strictly upheld by power.

  Watching in fascination as the two princes drew their swords and began to circle each other, Miles clutched his hands together, wondering if his duel looked anything like this.

  Probably not, he thought, noting the ease and confidence with which they moved. I barely remember Cat Walks on High Wall. And that’s a beginner movement technique.

  With a rush, Prince Orda rushed at Prince Mayaga, his sword extended.

  The duel had begun!

  Within just a few exchanges, even someone with a poor understanding of combat could see that Prince Mayaga was overwhelmingly superior to Prince Orda, his movements dictating the flow of battle.

  Prince Mayaga set a fast pace to the duel, his rapid and accurate strikes like a relentless storm, each clash of steel driving Prince Orda back a step. The sounds of steel and cheers caused everyone in the Great Hall to rush over, everyone craning their necks to see the duel.

  Anger and humiliation twisted across Prince Orda’s face as the duel dragged on, but he had no chance to counter; he was too busy fending off Prince Mayaga’s sword. Nervous sweat poured off him as he moved, barely keeping up with Prince Mayaga’s strikes. Then, in a movement that seemed almost lazy, Prince Mayaga stepped forward, allowing their swords to bind.

  Prince Orda planted his feet and roared, pushing back with all his might, his muscles bulging from the strain.

  Watching, Miles was caught in a trance of obsession, his own failed duel fresh in his mind.

  Compared to them, my duel was like children swinging swords around.

  Blinking in surprise, he saw Prince Mayaga suddenly step to the side, releasing the bind just as Prince Orda pushed back with all his might. With nothing to brace against, Prince Orda went crashing to the floor, arms and legs flailing in a humiliating fall.

  Before Prince Orda could recover, Prince Mayaga’s sword lashed out like lightning, piercing his shoulder. A raw, animalistic scream echoed throughout the hall as Prince Orda clutched the wound, the roar from the crowd swelling to its peak.

  “I’m going to kill you!” the wounded prince shouted, his face twisted in rage, hair falling wildly over his face. Screaming again, he forced himself up, a crimson glow erupting from his shoulder and spreading across his body.

  Moments later, the image of a Golden Bat shimmered into being behind him, its bloodthirsty fangs bared in a snarl.

  “He’s also an Arcane Lord,” Miles gasped, glancing towards his brothers.

  Arcane Lords were the true reason for the divide between commoners and nobility. Their vast strength created a world where commoners could never hope to challenge the ruling class. On the rare occasion that a commoner did reach the rank of an Arcane Lord, noble houses would feverishly fight over them, every house trying to marry them into their bloodline.

  “He is,” Cripton calmly replied, studying the Aether swirling around Prince Orda. “But he’s just a beginner. The difference between a beginner and someone who has trained for years as an Arcane Lord is immeasurable. Prince Mayaga still has the upper hand.”

  “My, my… that's not the Royal Crest of Kandula,” Prince Mayaga said, his eyes fixed on the Golden Bat surrounding Prince Orda. A mocking smile spread across his face. “I was under the impression that the Royal Family of Kandula bore a Mantis as their Crest. Are you sure you're a prince of Kandula? Perhaps you’re someone who’s just pretending.”

  As he taunted his opponent, a dark blue light began to envelop him, coating his body and sword in a dense blue glow. The Royal Crest of Silkbug—a Dragonfly—shimmered to life. Pulses of intense energy caused the light to swirl around him like a living force, causing the spectators to inch back in alarm.

  Swinging his sword around lazily, Prince Mayaga grinned as his sword left blue lines in the air.

  “This is the power of a true prince,” he said, his voice pitched low as he stepped forward.

  Shouting in rage and humiliation, Prince Orda charged at Prince Mayaga, his sword held out. “How dare you!”

  With the use of Aether, the fight between the two princes became even more one-sided, Prince Orda barely withstanding the first few strikes.

  Grinning from ear to ear, Prince Mayaga seemed to blur for a moment, followed by an ear-piercing clash as Prince Orda’s sword went clattering across the floor. The disarmed prince stood frozen, stunned, as Prince Mayaga’s sword came to rest gently against his neck.

  “Do you yield, Prince?” Prince Mayaga sneered, daring Prince Orda to move.

  Standing there, hair plastered to his head, Prince Orda clenched his hands together, his body shaking with rage. His eyes were glued to Prince Mayaga’s face, a deep burning hatred in them. Blood was dripping down his face and staining his clothes.

  “Prince Mayaga, you have won the duel. You do not need to keep pressing. Hector walked up and placed his hand on Prince Mayaga’s arm, lowering the sword.

  “Yes, yes. You are right,” Prince Mayaga replied, returning his sword to his hip with a stylish flourish. “A prince should not bully those beneath him.”

  As the duel came to an end, loud clapping and whistles erupted from Prince Mayaga’s side. Their excitement quickly spread to the other guests. Bowing to the gathered crowd, Prince Mayaga made his way to Queen Milina, extending his arm, he took her hand and kissed it.

  “Looks like we know who our next King is,” Ryker muttered, his eyes following Prince Orda as he was led away.

  “That’s not necessarily true,” Ronan said, crossing his arms. “This duel revealed something important. We learned that Prince Orda didn’t inherit Kandula’s Royal Crest… I suspect Prince Mayaga purposely instigated the duel to show us. Normally, that would put Prince Orda in a difficult position, but House Salizia is weak right now. If Queen Milina marries Prince Mayaga, there’s a real chance that Silkbug will take advantage of their lack of strength.

  “In contrast, Prince Orda doesn’t have a claim to Kandula’s throne. His influence over Queen Milina would be far less concerning. There’s also the fear that if Queen Milina marries Prince Mayaga, Silkbug will become too powerful. To prevent that, the surrounding Kingdoms will put pressure on her to choose someone from a weaker Kingdom, or someone from Vanura. Someone like you, Cripton.”

  “Don’t give Father any ideas,” Cripton groaned, still watching the direction Prince Orda had gone. “I already have a fiancée, if you forgot.”

  “Why must Queen Milina marry someone so soon?” Miles cut in. “Couldn't she declare the traditions of our Kingdom outdated and rule as Queen for a while?”

  Looking at the pool of blood still on the ground, Miles felt sick. He didn’t like the way Prince Mayaga had mocked Prince Orda. Watching this duel reminded him of his own duel, a duel in which he had been humiliated just like Prince Orda.

  “Politics don’t make much sense, but they are what binds the Kingdoms together,” answered Ronan, a tired look appearing in his eyes. “You may not know this, but our Kingdom has a non-aggression pact with the neighboring Kingdoms. As long as a Kingdom does not break the laws stated in the treaties, there will be no war between the Kingdoms.

  “If Queen Milina does not marry within the timeline dictated in our laws, the neighboring Kingdoms will claim that we broke our laws, so we cannot be trusted to keep our word stated in the treaties. They will use that as an excuse to invade us.”

  “That makes no sense!” exclaimed Miles, confusion causing his voice to crack, his head spinning to look at his brother.

  “You’re right,” Ronan sighed. “But this same law prevented the surrounding Kingdoms from invading us when King Alfred squandered our military might and wealth. Presently, Silkbug and Kandula are the most disgruntled with our Kingdom. The duel between the two princes has more history than most people know. Luckily, no one was killed.”

  “Luck had nothing to do with that,” Ryker laughed. “The skill difference between the two princes is too great. Prince Mayaga chose not to kill Prince Orda.”

  “Ryker is right,” Cripton agreed. “Prince Mayaga is the strongest of our generation that I have seen. If you count the older generations, only a handful of people in our Kingdom can beat him.”

  “He’s that strong?” Miles gasped; he had not realized just how strong Prince Mayaga was.

  “We can talk about that later,” Roman interrupted, “Queen Milina is free, let’s go talk to her before another House gets to her.”

  “Let’s go!” Cripton declared, marching over to their new Queen.

  Following the clear path Cripton had created with his presence, Miles hurried to keep up with his brothers. As they passed by guests who were excitedly talking about the duel, he was forced to sidestep out of the way as a man swung his arms around, mimicking the fight.

  “Excuse me. Pardon me,” he muttered as he picked up his pace to keep up with his brothers.

  As they approached Queen Milina, Miles quickly ran his fingers through his hair, arranging them in a way that looked presentable.

  Queen Milina wore the silver-white armor he hadn’t noticed earlier, its brilliance framed by her reddish-brown hair, a striking image of power and beauty. Now that he knew what to look for, Miles couldn’t help but admire the Elven craftsmanship. The armor seemed as if it were held together by magic, the joints seemingly flexible as the Queen moved.

  Standing beside her was Prince Hector, the strongest warrior in the Kingdom, his expression like carved stone.

  “Your Majesty! It is a profound honor to stand in your presence,” Cripton said, reaching Queen Milina and offering a deep bow. “I am Cripton, first-born son of Lord Falkan Nazau. May I present my brothers: Ryker, Ronan, and Miles.”

  Bowing at the Queen, Miles could not help but glance from Prince Hector to the silver armor Queen Milina wore, then back to Prince Hector.

  “Ah, Lord Cripton, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Queen Milina said, offering her hand to him.

  “I must apologize on behalf of my father,” Cripton replied, taking her hand and bringing it to his forehead. “As I’m sure you are aware, Lord Apra seized control of our silver mines. My father had to go remind him that we are not to be tested.”

  “I am aware,” Queen Milina said, a flicker of anger darkening her eyes. “Once the coronation is over, I intend to summon Lord Apra for an explanation. Rest assured, House Salizia does not condone his actions. You will have your silver mines back.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Cripton said, stepping to the side and gesturing toward his brother. “Permit me to introduce Ronan, my younger brother. Of all of us, he is the most brilliant. I believe that with the use of his mind, he will be the greatest asset to the Kingdom.”

  “The Scholar of the North,” Queen Milina softly breathed, inclining her head. “I’ve heard much of you. In fact, I was just considering arranging a meeting with you.”

  “It is an honor,” Ronan said, bowing deeply. “I hope that in time, our Houses can work together to strengthen Vanura.”

  “As do I,” Queen Milina replied, smiling gracefully. “Tell me, Ronan, what is your opinion of the future of our Kingdom?”

  “My Queen,” Ronan said, pausing to collect his thoughts. “I believe the growing religious split within our Kingdom is our main cause of worry. If we fail to address this, it will only deepen. Yet, if we respond with force, we risk creating martyrs.”

  Hearing his brother, Miles blinked in surprise. It was the first time he had heard his brother mention religion. Usually, his brother discussed economics and trade when talking about governing.

  “Then what do you suggest we do?” Queen Milina asked.

  “Without fully understanding both sides, I am unable to suggest a solution yet,” Ronan said, bringing his hands up. But if you grant me one month, I will speak with the leaders of both faiths. I am confident I can create a strategy to ease the tension without resorting to force.”

  “One month?” Queen Milina repeated, her brows lifting at the ambitious timetable. “Then I look forward to reading your report. It would be interesting to compare your approach with that of my uncle’s. For now, enjoy the celebration—I must speak with my other guests. It has been a pleasure meeting all of you.”

  Watching the Queen walk away, Miles turned to his brother.

  “Do you really know of a way to deal with both religions?” he asked.

  “No,” Ronan replied, grinning. “But with a whole month, I will think of something.”