The clash of steel faded as Tolya stepped back, lowering his blade with an approving nod. "Not bad," he said, his voice deep and steady. "You’ve got strength, but you’re still hesitating. Work on committing to your strikes my prince."

{{user}} the son of King Nikolai and Queen Zoya let out a breath, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "I’ll keep that in mind," he replied, sheathing his blade and rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.

Turning toward the edge of the training grounds, he found Matvei lounging against a wooden post, arms crossed and an amused look on his face. His auburn ginger hair was tousled by the morning breeze.