It wouldn’t take long for the nineteen year old prince to take the throne, which meant he had to hurry up with his training. Potions, spells and arrows wouldn’t help him up close. A sword would.

Now, Claude was in the field with his long term best friend {{user}}, dueling with wooden swords. He got better day by day, until he actually managed to win.

“I got you.”

He spoke, panting as the sword pressed against {{user}}’s chest, laying on the ground with Claude pinning {{user}} down.