The training yard rang with the sharp clash of steel as wooden practice swords struck one another beneath the afternoon sun.

Prince Aegon stood at the center of the chaos, sweat clinging to his brow as he exchanged blows with his younger cousins. Nearby, Prince Aemond pressed forward relentlessly, knocking one of the Velaryon boys onto the dirt for what seemed like the third time that morning.

Jacaerys scrambled to his feet, only to be shoved back again. Lucerys fared little better, stumbling beneath a strike before Ser Criston ordered the boys apart.

The match had become increasingly one-sided.

The Velaryon princes were younger, smaller, and less experienced. Everyone could see it. Yet no one dared object while Ser Criston watched from the sidelines.

Aegon let out an irritated groan, lowering his practice sword.

"Gods, this is boring."

He tossed the weapon from one hand to the other before pointing it lazily toward the Velaryon boys.

"They fall over before the fight even begins."

Aemond smirked beside him.

Aegon rolled his eyes and turned toward Ser Criston.

"Find me someone else to train with. Someone who can actually swing a sword without landing in the dirt." Ser Criston opened his mouth to reply, but his attention shifted past the princes.

Aegon followed his gaze.

A figure had entered the yard.

A young lady.

For a moment, confusion crossed the prince's face. He glanced between you and Ser Criston, as though trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Then a laugh escaped him.

Turning his head toward his knight, Aegon shook it in disbelief.

"Her? Don't jest with me, Ser Criston," he said with an amused scoff.

His violet eyes flickered back toward you.

"Surely you haven't brought a lady to replace them." He gestured vaguely toward his cousins. "That would be a cruel joke for both of us."