"I'll have to go grab a sword," she says. Leo, though he's not extremely close to Cloud anymore—not many are these days—knows her well enough. He remembers enough of their courting days to parse through a few of the microscopic shifts in her body language. Some compassion bleeds into his charming grin. 

"Just because you have to do it doesn't mean you can't still have fun with it at the same time," he attempts. His voice returns to its easy tone, "And what do you mean you have to 'go grab a sword?'" With the question, he gestures to her skirts.

"That's a secret, Leo," Cloud says.

"Yeah, if you're blind," he jests.

"Most people are," she responds. Allowing her tone to fall flat, she continues, "Not everyone can spot concealed weapons. I do believe that's the point."

"Okay, smartass, then go get another sword," Leo manages to roll his eyes while still maintaining his friendly demeanor. "I'll meet you in the middle of the ballroom. I think they're already making a circle."

"Sounds good." As the Paixan prince heads to the center of the room, Cloud aims for its edge where Tulip awaits with a sheathed blade. Cloud melts a little upon reaching her. "Save me," she laments, accepting the offered weapon.

"You like sword-fighting," Tulip states. "And after this, it's dancing. Much less talking. It'll be fine. You've made it through the worst of it." In place of a verbal reply, Cloud just pouts before repositioning her mask back into its place and turning back toward the crowd.

"I assume we both know the rules by this point?" Cloud asks Leo as she approaches, drawing her saber. Leo unsheathes his own blade. Thinner and straighter, it’s advantageous in its speed. The saber Cloud currently wields is modified to be lighter for the same purpose. It's a newer module, so this is something of a test run. Waltzing over to the prince, Cloud makes a show of spinning the blade around: rolling her wrist, twirling it in her hand. Leo shoots her a playful smirk.

"Attempting to intimidate me, are you?" He asks, raising his rapier. Cloud reaches the prince and lifts her own sword in response; the blades cross between the two royals, just shy of clanging against each other. A man, the standing referee, begins announcing the rules. Leo huffs a quiet laugh. In Paixian, he snarks, "Is this man hard of hearing?"

"It's for the audience," Cloud replies easily, if accented. Leo shrugs. Instead of replying directly, he comments:

"I hope you don't think I'm going easy on you because it's your birthday.”

"That'd be rather dull," Cloud claims. "If I wanted to defeat you easily, I'd just use my left hand." On that note, the referee concludes his explanation of the rules and steps back. Cloud and Leo adjust their postures in anticipation. 

In the hush of the crowd, the man calls, "Go!"

Immediately, Leo lunges, and Cloud parries. She slashes in retaliation, leaving Leo to stutter at her sudden speed. "Well, that's new," he chuckles, easily adapting after the brief slip-up. “You must have been practicing!” Metal clangs as the prince thrusts his blade again, Cloud’s sword coming to meet it. Having prepared for her to defend, Leo retaliates against it, slipping his rapier beneath her blade to disengage it. Cloud retreated to avoid dropping her blade. She lunges, nearly getting Leo in the chest. Swift on his feet as he is with his sword, he dodges.

The swords' banter goes back and forth in motions too quick for the unskilled eye to dissect. Having two different blades and fighting styles, it's a marvel to watch even without having a grasp on the details. Leo tends to circle Cloud, an attempt to puncture her solid defense. Even with the smooth fabric of her gloves and using her weakened hand, she's a tricky opponent. That's not to undermine Leo, whose aggressive tactics overwhelm those unfamiliar with his style. After all, both of these young adults have been raised with a hilt in their hand—or hands, in Cloud's case. 

Between assaults, the two manage to insert little taunts. Twirling their blades, swiping toward the feet, and feinting each other out, one would think they'd annoy one another to the point of an actual, hostile attack. On the contrary, anyone could see the bounce to Leo's steps and the playful pomposity of Cloud's quick movements. Their actions with their blades are nothing but an extension of their ordinary relationship.

Eventually and in the blink of an eye, Cloud's saber taps Leo's waistcoat. Their shoulders rise and fall with their labored breathing. They may not be going for the kill, but it’s still a workout. "New sword?" Leo wonders. "You're faster, using your weight less."

"It's in the experimental phase," Cloud confirms with a nonchalant shrug. She removes the sword from her friend's chest to present it before her once again. Leo crosses his sword with it. 

"Well, it's successful. Thus far, of course."

"Oh, of course." Cloud allows herself a small grin, the endorphins of the fight easing her anxiety somewhat. The referee, after declaring the first point to Cloud, announces for the pair to have at it again.

The slashing of metal resumes. Light catches and reflects off its polished surfaces in a brief rainbow. It's a stunning spectacle, years of training shining through. The queen watches on in approval, though she finds the children's continuous teasing unnecessary. Tulip and her guest observe in an engaged manner, discussing specific moves the royals make and their merits. Reale views from a distance. Though not particularly skilled with blades, she knows a good fight when she sees one. They've come a long way from whirling sticks at each other in the courtyard, that much is plain to see.

The point of Leo's rapier pokes Cloud's stomach. A small spike of shame prickles the back of her neck, well aware of her mother's eyes. Outwardly, she shrugs it off. "Neck and neck! This makes for an exciting final round," she declares. Their swords cross before them once more, waiting on the referee. 

Summer watches beside the king as the final round begins. Cloud's always been much better with physical weapons than she is. However, Summer has greater control over magic. Cloud learns formal spells and such just fine, but when she panics, the spark just leaves her hands, fizzles out, and Blaze has historically prioritized non-magical defenses in her case. All that’s not even considering how other emotional states tamper with her magic. Still, if Cloud learned how to regulate her emotions some, domesticated her magic, she'd be a force of nature. That is, in fact, why Blaze did not want her to learn the skill. Blaze learned that the hard way with her husband, and she’d prefer to prevent another case of that nonsense if she can. Cloud must be threatening, but not a threat.

Cloud's saber hooks around Leo's rapier, disarming him when it slips from his grip. He stares at the blade in disbelief as it clatters against the floor, then back to his empty hand. He barks a surprised laugh before retrieving it. "Congratulations! It's been a while since someone could disarm me like that!" Prince Leo bows to the crown princess, a gesture she returns. They sheath their blades as they rise back up.

"Thank you. You put up quite the fight," Cloud states, her previously energized expression hushed once more after spotting her mother's critical analysis of her performance from the sidelines. She'll get an earful for that second round later, or at least a curt chide. It depends on if Blaze intends Cloud to feel her wrath or her scorn.

"My thanks!" Leo bids. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm not one for dancing."

"I'm aware," Cloud replies with a dry voice in recollection of a particular abrasion upon her foot from his sturdy shoes. "I'll see you at the refreshment table." Leo puts on this smiley, apologetic cringe in remembrance of her minor injury before taking his leave.

As the first notes of string instruments reverberate throughout the room, a figure standing a head taller than Cloud looms at her side. "Impressive swordsmanship," a measured voice compliments. Cloud turns, looking up, to see a man in full dress uniform. His hair and eyes are a similar azure to the king's. His decoration identifies this man as a lieutenant general. He looks young for the position, but Cloud has no leg to stand on there.

"High praise," she responds instead of questioning it. That’d be rude. The man has a katana at his hip in place of a cavalry saber. Cloud's got one like it under her skirts. "Thank you, sir."

"Cloud!" Tulip beams, approaching the princess easily even with a member of the brass beside them. Cloud tenses for Tulip’s sake more than her own. She takes the saber from Cloud's hands without prompting or asking permission. "You did wonderfully! My favorite part was when you made Prince Martin trip over his own feet." Cloud glances between her and the officer, confused. Normally, Tulip is as hyper-aware of social boundaries as Cloud is, which is saying something. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Cloud, this is my guest, Lieutenant General Ale Strong." Cloud’s puzzlement shifts to surprise. "He's kind of like an older brother to me," she explains further. "His home was beside mine when I was a child." Oh. Well. That's a strange pair. A lady in waiting and a lieutenant general.

"You interrupted us before I could introduce myself," he scolds. Tulip merely grins up at him, an innocent gleam to her eyes. His stoic face takes on a polite air when he returns his attention to the princess. "I agree with Miss Garden, it was amusing to see you trip up Prince Martin. You're rather quick with a saber."

"Thank you, but it's actually lighter than the standard issue," Cloud explains, gesturing to the weapon in Tulip's grip. "It works well. I wouldn't be surprised if they gave them out to the army. Personally, I hold a higher appreciation for the katana. They are rather similar in shape, but I like the different stylistic method. Seeing someone use a katana is comparable to taking in the work of a fine artist." Ale looks down at Tulip.

"I like her."

Tulip retorts, "She just said that because she noticed your katana," Tulip retorts, cradling the saber.

"That is indeed why I said that, but I still believe it, and you know it," Cloud corrects, relaxing minimally. If Tulip is friends with him, he can't be that bad. Wait. Actually. "Hold on, I recognize you."

"He's around the castle sometimes," Tulip offers. Cloud shakes her head. No, it was a specific instance, a long time ago. 

"You were that major!" Cloud declares. "About ten years ago!" Tulip perks up, that being a time before she was hired. "You saw me the first time I held a real sword. You corrected my grip."

"You recall that?" He asks, impressed. Yeah, she does, because she found the ordeal horrifically embarrassing. She'd been recovering from months of illness. For some passerby to instantly spot any kind of residual weakness was shameful. However, she's held her blades correctly ever since.

If she had known Strong was shocked that she was being made to train so soon in her recovery, especially with the whole kidnapping debacle that had just occurred, she would have been even more mortified at his dismay, would have taken it for condescending pity. She didn’t need pity. She needed to grow stronger, to prove she wasn’t disposable. Strong was checking up on her as much as he was correcting her.

"Yes. You haven't changed much at all!" She chimes. He genuinely hasn't, that wasn’t performative. He can't be older than forty. He was around twenty-five or thirty as a major, then. That would make sense. Shouldn't he be less a brother and more a father figure, then? He might be slightly older than Cloud's parents, if not the same age. It's hard to tell since he looks young. Hm.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Tulip questions in a mock whisper.

"Nothing important," Cloud assures. 

"Nonsense," Tulip huffs. "Every thought that comes into your head is important to me." Cloud smiles meekly, detecting the sincerity behind the sarcastic statement.

"Well, here's a thought: people are waiting to dance with me," Cloud states. "So, Lieutenant General Strong, unless you'd care to dance?" Cloud phrases the question informally so he may deny the request should he choose. With a pleasant-mannered bow, he replies:

"Thank you, Your Royal Highness, but I'm sure some would be insulted if you were to dance with me before them."

"Thank you for understanding," Cloud tips her head down in the slightest bow. "It was a pleasure to see you again after so long. Perhaps, next time, we can speak again without the ten-year gap." He chuckles.

"I look forward to it," Strong agrees.

"I'll make sure to say goodnight before retiring," Tulip offers.

"Alright. I'll see you later," Cloud agrees.