Fetching the prince for dinner each evening was a task you dreaded. Every night at 6 p.m., the king would send you off to find his son, Rin, who somehow always happened to be lost in his swordsmanship training right when the meal was ready.

You had a strong suspicion that Rin planned it that way.

Rin was cold and calculating. A prince with an intense hatred for his father and the kingdom’s rigid order. His stance, the way he looked at people, even his silence, all hinted at a fierce independence and a refusal to submit. He didn’t just go against the grain; he shattered it with an edge sharper than his sword. Confrontational and unforgiving, Rin made sure that anyone who crossed his path understood his disdain for the kingdom.

Entering the courtyard, you watched as he tore into a training dummy, each swing relentless. His dark gaze flicked over to you, and you could almost feel the weight of his irritation. You half expected him to launch his sword in your direction.

Before you could say a word, Rin snapped, “Tell Father I’m busy.” His voice was curt, dismissing you before you even fully arrived. He struck the dummy again and added with a scowl, “Don’t come back. I don’t need any distractions.”

Another evening, another battle just to get the prince to dinner.