“Are you insane? Do you truly think I would step into the ring myself?” Grace asked incredulously. “Is your brain made of nothing but muscle?”

  Benric blinked, momentarily thrown off.

  “What? But… it was you who—”

  Before he could process her words, Grace dramatically gestured to her side.

  “Here! My champion!” she decred, stepping aside with a flourish. “Lady Marie, the disciple of Aunt Ravenna!”

  At that moment, Marie stepped forward in a fitted, high-colred tunic in a deep, matte bck, made from lightweight yet durable fabric that allows for swift movement. The tunic is accented with sharp silver piping along the seams, giving it a polished, regal look. The colr stands stiff and proud, embroidered with a small, intricate raven emblem at the throat, her normally calm demeanor faltering slightly as she flushed in embarrassment. The gathered audience gasped, their murmurs quickly shifting to excitement and awe.

  The Knight Captain, acting as the referee, studied Marie with an appraising gaze before addressing her formally.

  “Is the bow your preferred weapon, my dy?”

  Marie gave a short, composed nod.

  Across from her, Prince Benric sighed, his stance rexed but his expression betraying a hint of unease. He ran a hand through his tousled hair before speaking.

  “I’m not sure what my sister told you, Lady Marie, but I really don’t want you to get hurt in a spar with me,” he said, his tone ced with reluctant concern. “I’d rather not deal with Aunt Ravenna’s wrath.”

  Marie adjusted the strap of her quiver, ensuring it was secured properly before responding with a small, reassuring smile.

  “You don’t have to worry, Your Highness.” Her voice was steady, her resolve unwavering. “I’ve already informed master of my decision, and she has granted her approval.”

  Benric’s eyes widened slightly.

  Marie continued, tightening the bracer around her wrist. “She said that anything that happens here is my responsibility. So, rest assured—she won’t be coming after you.”

  Benric let out a slow breath.

  “I… I see.”

  Despite her reassurance, he couldn’t quite shake his unease. He knew Aunt Ravenna all too well—her vengeance was both swift and merciless. The st time she was slighted—when a noble family rejected her invitation to a grand ball—she made certain that they never dared show their faces in high society again.

  And though Benric was the son of Prince Landon, Ravenna’s elder brother, there was no guarantee he would be spared from her ruthlessness if he truly angered her.

  The Knight Captain cleared his throat, drawing the gathered audience’s attention.

  “Both participants will be using sparring weapons.” His voice rang through the training grounds. “Lady Marie will be equipped with a bow and blunt-tipped, leather-wrapped arrows.”

  Marie gave a slight nod, already testing the draw of her bow.

  The knight continued. “His Highness Prince Benric will be using a wooden sword.”

  The audience buzzed with excitement. The training grounds were filled with young knights-in-training and high-ranking nobles, all eager to witness this duel.

  Many of them had heard rumors about Marie, the new disciple of the ‘Unruly Princess’ Ravenna. And now, she was facing one of the most skilled swordsmen of their generation—Prince Benric Sorius himself.

  Among the spectators, Grace Sorius took her seat, her lips curled into an amused smirk. She leaned back comfortably, her sharp gaze fixed on the sparring ground.

  Marie, noticing Grace’s watchful eyes, gnced toward her and smiled.

  The crowd held its breath in anticipation as the Knight Captain took a step forward, his authoritative voice echoing across the sparring ground.

  “The rules are simple. A direct hit to a vital point will be considered fatal, and the victor will be decred.” His gaze swept over the two combatants. “Stepping outside the designated boundary or yielding will also result in immediate loss.”

  Benric nodded in acknowledgment and secured a one-handed shield on his left arm, his sharp blue eyes locked onto Marie. He could see the way she stood—her posture composed, her bow steady in her hands, waiting for the slightest signal to move.

  Even as he prepared himself to counter her arrows, his mind was filled with questions.

  Why a bow?

  Marie was Ravenna’s disciple, and everyone knew that the Unruly Princess was a master of dagger combat and agility-based techniques. Anyone trained under her would surely be expected to specialize in the same swift, close-quarters fighting style.

  Benric narrowed his eyes. Is she hiding her real strength for actual battles?

  The Knight Captain’s hand came down in a swift motion.

  “Begin!”

  The very instant the words left his mouth, Benric lunged forward, shield raised, charging toward Marie with explosive speed.

  But Marie was already moving.

  Rather than firing an arrow, she ducked low and sidestepped, avoiding his charge by the barest margin. Benric rushed past her, momentarily overextending as she pivoted to face his back.

  Her fingers moved without hesitation, pulling back the bowstring in a single fluid motion. An arrow was nocked and loosed in the span of a heartbeat.

  The projectile shot toward him—fast, precise.

  But Benric was no novice.

  With an instinctive twist of his body, he swung his wooden sword mid-motion, striking the arrow out of the air before it could reach him. The deflected arrow cttered to the ground harmlessly.

  Not wasting a second, he charged again, determined to close the distance between them.

  To his surprise, Marie did not attempt to retreat.

  Instead, she stood her ground.

  As his sword came down in a forceful arc, aiming to disarm her by striking her bow, Marie met his attack head-on.

  With a swift shift of her stance, she angled her bow to absorb the impact, catching the sword between its curved limbs.

  A sharp crack rang through the training ground as wood met wood, and the sheer force of the collision vibrated through her arms. But rather than yielding, Marie pressed forward, leveraging her own strength to counteract the downward force of Benric’s strike.

  The gathered knights-in-training and noble spectators leaned forward, eyes wide, as the duel began to unfold in a way none of them had anticipated.

  Read 12+ Advance Chapter by becoming Patron : 96. The Duel Part 2