Judite was observing everything a few meters ahead. Unlike her brother, she seemed to be enjoying herself. She had already made friends with three different children, a red-haired girl with freckles, a thin boy with glasses, and a tall girl carrying a wooden sword.

Lukas sighed.

’Maybe I really am strange.’

"Not enjoying yourself?" Aurora asked, approaching with a glass of juice in hand.

Lukas reflected for a few moments.

"It’s not that."

He looked around the hall, at the nobles conversing, the children playing, the servants moving about.

"I just don’t know what to talk about."

Aurora smiled gently.

"You don’t have to force yourself. Not everyone likes the same things."

Lukas nodded. That reassured him.

It was at that moment that Count Hark stepped forward.

The hall gradually fell silent.

Lady Elara remained beside her father, holding his hand with both of her small fists. Her brown eyes scanned the crowd, slightly frightened but also curious.

"I deeply appreciate everyone’s presence tonight," declared the Count.

His voice was firm. Accustomed to commanding soldiers. It echoed through the hall like a distant drum.

"My daughter turns five years old today."

The Count’s normally stern eyes softened as they turned toward Elara.

"I hope everyone enjoys this celebration."

Light applause echoed through the hall.

Lady Elara performed an awkward curtsy, her arms spread and head lowered, nearly tripping over her dress.

"Thank you for coming!"

Her voice was high-pitched and childish, cutting through the air like a bell. Some guests immediately smiled. Others applauded once again. The young girl’s shy smile seemed to make the atmosphere even warmer.

After the words of gratitude, the servants began reorganizing part of the hall.

Tables were moved to the sides, dragged away by servants in a line, their wooden legs scraping against the marble floor. Chairs were repositioned to form an audience around a central area.

A central space was left open, a wide circle of polished marble surrounded by golden ropes stretched between small wooden posts.

Judite immediately straightened her posture.

"Is it starting?"

Clavor nodded.

"Soon."

Lukas turned toward his father.

"Is the tournament really important?"

"Very."

The relaxed expression disappeared from the swordsman’s face.

"Rhyne is a military kingdom."

He observed the youths gathered in one corner of the hall, children of different ages, sizes, and appearances. Some chatted excitedly, while others had gone pale with nervousness.

"Strength is valued. Courage too. Especially among the nobility."

Lukas followed his gaze.

Some of the older children were already carrying wooden swords, small and light, with rounded tips to prevent injuries. Others held short practice spears without spearheads, made from pale wood.

There was nervousness. Anticipation. Pride.

"No one expects perfection from children so young," Aurora explained as she adjusted Judite’s dress.

"But it is an opportunity to demonstrate discipline. Determination. And talent."

Judite clenched her hands into fists.

"I’m going to win!"

Clavor let out a brief laugh.

"Do your best. That is enough. But remember. You are not allowed to use your magic in this tournament. Only physical strength and technique."

"I know, Father! Master Thorne already told me."

A servant then approached the Dmond family’s table.

He wore dark blue clothing, the color of House Hark, and white gloves. He performed an elegant bow.

"Lady Judite Dmond. The participants are requested to proceed to the preparation area."

Judite stood immediately. Then hesitated. She turned toward her family.

Aurora gently adjusted one of the ribbons in her hair.

"Have fun."

Clavor placed his hand on his daughter’s head.

"Remember your training. Breathe. Keep your eyes on your opponent. Do not attack in anger."

Judite nodded. Then she turned toward Lukas.

"You’re going to cheer for me, right?"

Lukas smiled. A genuine smile.

"Of course."

"Then I’m going to win."

The young noble girl lifted her chin. Determined. Then walked toward the other participating children.

Lukas followed his sister with his gaze.

The girl seemed small within the enormous hall. The participating children varied in age, some appeared to be eight or nine years old, while others were only five or six, like Judite.

But her steps never faltered.

Around them, the guests began moving closer to the area prepared for the demonstrations.

Conversations diminished. Anticipation grew. Lukas felt something similar within his own chest. Anxiety. Curiosity.

This would be the first time he witnessed one of Rhyne’s noble traditions. A tradition that revealed much about that kingdom.

About its people. About the values that upheld its aristocracy.

At the center of the hall, Lady Elara watched everything with eyes shining with excitement.

The birthday girl seemed just as anxious as the participants themselves.

Her fingers played with the hem of her dress, twisting the light blue fabric. Her mouth remained slightly open, as though she were holding her breath.

Count Hark remained beside her. Imposing. Silent. Observing. Like a commander preparing to witness the training of the next generation.

The music ceased completely. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The strings fell silent. The flutes quieted. The hall became so still that Lukas could hear the crackling of the candles in the chandeliers.

The herald stepped forward.

His staff, the ornate rod crowned with a blue gem, struck the floor.

Once. Twice. Three times.

The sound echoed through the hall like an alarm bell. The hall plunged into absolute silence. The herald lifted his head, took a deep breath, and announced,

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

His voice filled every corner of the hall, bouncing off the stone walls and rising toward the lofty ceiling.

"In honor of Lady Elara Hark’s birthday, the traditional martial demonstration of Rhyne’s youth shall now begin!"

Excitement spread throughout the hall like fire through dry straw.

The guests moved closer to the golden ropes marking the central area. The participants lined up in one corner of the hall, each holding their chosen weapon, wooden swords, short spears, and some of the younger children with nothing but clenched fists.

Lukas leaned slightly forward in his chair.

His violet eyes fixed themselves upon the entrance reserved for the participants.

For the first time that night... the true celebration was about to begin.