The tension in the Great Hall was thicker than dragon’s breath.

Caden stepped forward, sword drawn, eyes blazing.
“Kael Varian, enough games. You’ve been dancing around Elara long enough.

I challenge you—one duel. Winner takes her loyalty.”

I blinked. “Are we still in the Middle Ages? Or did I miss the memo about dating by combat?”

The crowd hushed. Even Elara’s eyes widened.

“I accept,” I said with a smirk, “but I warn you—I don’t plan to lose.”

The clash was fierce, steel ringing against steel.

But halfway through, I dodged a blow and caught a glimpse of Elara’s worried face.

This wasn’t just about pride. It was about fear.

And maybe—just maybe—something more.