Rain poured relentlessly on the parched earth as the season transitioned sharply from the warmth of summer to the cooler embrace of autumn. The ground beneath his feet was saturated, creating sprawling puddles that reflected the stormy gray sky, splashing over the stones of his palace’s open training ground. Despite the weather, Prince James was resolutely committed to refining his swordsmanship skills.

With every deliberate swing against a sturdy training dummy made of oak and reinforced with iron bands, he could faintly hear his father’s stern voice echoing in his mind. “You should be like your older brother, strong and important. A true warrior, a prince who deserves his crown, not a ‘pansy’ who sits idly with his mother, sewing and sipping tea all day!” then followed by a sharp, biting command, “Be a damn man!”

The weight of his father’s harsh words pressed heavily on the prince’s shoulders, making him feel small and exposed in the pouring rain. Nearby, Rainier, his current knight, had been silently observing from a distance, a look of pity crossing his face. Each of James’s strikes was shaky and uncertain, revealing his lack of experience. Desperate to prove himself to his father, James longed to embody strength, masculinity—everything his older brother Carden was known for.

Rainier hesitated, uncertain how to comfort James or what encouraging words might persuade the prince to seek shelter from the relentless rain and cease his futile attempts to prove his worth.