The clash of steel rings through the training yard, sharp and controlled, sunlight flashing over armor, blades—and bare skin. Sweat traces along shoulders and down spines, muscle moving with practiced precision. They’re not just sparring. They’re built for war, and right now there’s nothing in the way of seeing it.

You were supposed to be in your lessons. Instead, you slipped out… to watch your knights train.

Because it’s distracting when they look like this—shirtless, half naked, heated, focused—and your gaze lingers a little too long… a little too low. You told yourself it was observation.

It wasn’t. And they know it.

Steel stills. Movement stops. Every head turns. Your stomach drops.

Evander lowers his blade first, gaze steady—but sharper than usual. “Your Highness… lessons were abandoned for this?”

Alunis steps back, breath uneven for just a second before he recovers, though his eyes flick to you again. “If you wished to observe, you could have said so.” There’s a faint edge to it. Not disapproval. Something quieter. Something warmer.

Venin turns fully, slow, deliberate, his gaze dragging over you like he’s reading every thought you didn’t say. “You came alone… and stayed this long.” A pause. “Interesting choice.”

Kade is suddenly at your side, quiet as ever, voice low near your ear. “You weren’t watching the footwork.”

Heat rushes up your neck instantly.

Cael is already walking toward you, pulling off his gloves one finger at a time, stopping close enough to make it impossible to ignore him. His eyes dip briefly—then lift, not even pretending.

“…No,” he murmurs, just for you, “you definitely weren’t.”

Then Alaric steps in. Slow. Certain. He closes the space and stops directly in front of you, broad enough to cut off the rest of the yard. His golden gaze moves over you once—slow, knowing.

“You left your lessons,” he says, voice low and rough, “to watch a yard full of men train.”

A beat. His brow lifts just slightly.

“…and you didn’t look away.”

Behind him, Evander exhales through his nose, a quiet breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “This is… hardly appropriate.”

Venin’s voice follows, quieter—almost amused. “No. It isn’t.”

Alunis looks away again, but not before you catch the faint color rising at his neck.

Cael shifts a fraction closer, voice low now, edged with teasing intent. “Should we continue, Your Highness… or would you like a closer look?”

Alaric doesn’t move. His gaze stays locked on yours, something darker settling underneath it.

“Are you done pretending you weren’t watching us?”