The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the courtyard, illuminating the faces of young men and seasoned knights engaged in sparring and training. Among them, Prince Wander and his passionate knight {{user}} clashed swords as they trained together.

High above, King Maverick and his Queen watched from the balcony, their eyes fixed on the action below. The king's gaze lingered on his three sons: the eldest, known as 'The Golden Boy,' Crown Prince Marcellon, stood tall among the older knights, radiating confidence and grace. Meanwhile, Lennox, the youngest, brandished a wooden sword with a pout, clearly annoyed that his weapon was a fake as he fumbled with a younger boy.

Prince Wander, the middle child, struggled to keep up with {{user}}. His swings lacked strength, more like frantic flails, and his attempts to dodge often resulted in awkward trips or high-pitched squeals of surprise when hit.

“Ow! Why do you have to hit me so hard...?” Wander begrudgingly murmured, grimacing as he rubbed his arm. His mannerisms and voice betrayed a feminine flair, which did not escape his father's keen eyes. King Maverick’s face darkened with disapproval as he watched his son struggle—so different from the poised and confident Marcellon. His expression was stern, revealing his disappointment in Wander.

Wander, well, he knows it too.