Hazeel twirled her dagger-shaped earring in-between her fingers as she studied the boy in front of her. Garn Azeur sat with his arms tied comically to his body, all while staring at the woman across from him with a glare on his face.

He had assumed that the woman his father had brought to the castle in such high secrecy was a courtesan, and what reason had he to assume otherwise?

‘Because she was fully armored?’ So what? He had learned from Jane that men preferred to live out their fantasies by making their lovers dress certain ways and role-playing certain scenarios. Prince Garn just expected his father’s desires had finally overcome his willpower when it came to his sworn celibacy after his wife - Garn’s mother - had passed from a disease three years prior.

Garn noticed that in the inner palace courtyard, they were the only two in the entirety of the massive garden… well, they would have been if not for the figures of King Pola, General Clairborne, and her daughter Rora watching from the second floor of the courtyard walls.

Of course, Jane was the only exception to that rule that Garn had seen in all his years of living at the castle. So how was he supposed to know that the person his father brought back was actually the woman who would be his combat instructor for the foreseeable future?

“So Prince Garn, have you reflected on why it was inappropriate to tell me to come to your room after I was finished bedding your father?” The little brat had the gall to sneer at Hazeel.

“Oh please. You know very well what kind of imagery you conjure up with the way you dress.” Hazeel looked down at herself and at her simple breastplate that only covered her growing chest and left her midriff exposed. Her sword wielding left arm was covered in a chainmail sleeve, and her right arm was bare save for a leather glove on her hand.

She wore tight leather pants with iron greaves and leather boots on her lower half. “With the kind of body you have, I could definitely see you moonlighting as an escort at night.”

Garn had barely gotten the sentence out of his mouth when Hazeel slapped the boy with her gloved hand. Garn had stopped moving and only stared at the place that the momentum of Hazeel’s blow had brought his head to.

FInally stirring from his stupor, Garn snapped and started screaming at Hazeel. “Are you insane woman!? Do you know what the punishment is for physically abusing a child, and the prince no less! You’ll be jailed for a lifetime, and probably even worse will be done to you…”

Garn’s momentum stopped as he actually looked at Hazeel’s face, and not just in her direction. She had no smile on her face, no sign of joviality, but rather a pained expression on her face. “So your surroundings have corrupted you this far. It’s surprising that your father neglected you to this extent, but I suppose that's how things go when you try to juggle being a parent and running a country.”

Garn’s eyes began to water as memories came flooding back to him. His father held up in meeting after meeting during his birthday, holidays going by where he would celebrate with all of Songrande’s collective nobility, but never alone with his father.

Shutting his eyes forcefully to stop his emotions from leaking out, Garn shook his head and struggled to get out of the bindings, crushing the flowers and shrubbery around him.

Hazeel looked on sadly, and drew a small pocket knife from a holster on her thigh. “Hold still, idiot.” Garn reluctantly stopped moving and allowed Hazeel to peacefully cut his bindings. On the verge of crying, Garn couldn’t muster up enough confidence to look Hazeel in the eyes as he had only moments before.

She sighed, and placed a hand on the young prince’s head. “If you feel frustrated at life, at your dad, or at yourself, I can teach you how to channel all that negativity. I’ll come back tomorrow to start giving you lessons, it’s up to you whether you want to learn from them or not.”

The swordswoman walked away from the prince, leaving her retreating figure emblazoned in his vision.

---

“I showed up to her lesson the next day, and never looked back. Pretty good story, right?” Prince Garn, or how people now addressed him, Captain Garn, was chatting up the barracks janitor, Braunn, in the wake of his nineteenth birthday party.

The old bastard just spat at Garn’s feet, but the prince took it in stride and clapped Braunn on the back. “Come now, Hazeel told me the only reason she kicked you out of her retinue was because of your toxic attitude. I can see that hasn’t changed in the twelve years since you were released from service.”

Braunn sneered at Garn. “You wretched brat. Hazeel stole everything from me. My livelihood, my pride, and my future, to name a few. I’ll never forgive her, nor you for taking my spot in her platoon.” The aging man moved over to a corner of the mess hall to start sweeping a pile of bottles that had formed during the night, leaving his back to Garn.

The prince swirled the fancy wine Rora had brought the night before around in his glass and analyzed the man’s posture. “You know Braunn, I’ve been hearing some rumors about you meeting with people from the Gold Continent recently.” Braunn stopped sweeping and kept his back to the prince.

“Just a friendly warning, from one Azurian to another. If you keep hanging around those guys, I can guarantee nothing good will come out of it.” Garn eyed Braunn’s back, and the man in question slowly turned around with a sour frown on his face.

“Ever since that upstart became our Military commander, and people gave her the name, “Hazeel the Conqueror,” our country has gone to shit. Nobles have started fighting with nobles over that goblin-girl’s qualifications to lead our army, and the following waves of distrust have split our military into factions. We need outside help… Prince.”

Braunn spat out Garn’s title with disgust, but it was the least he needed to do to show Garn proper respect. Garn shook his head and took a sip of the wine before speaking once more. “How does supreme might sound to you, Braunn? Because that is what Master possesses, as well as a superior intellect and top-tier battle instincts. The Azure continent hasn’t had such a commanding presence on the battlefield since its inception, and even experts agree that she has surpassed my grandfather, Norn Azeur, in both accolades and overall prowess. The country is going to usher in a new era, and my father has already told me his post-war plans. Which makes me think you should start making yours, because with the Conqueror on our side, the war won’t last much longer.”

Braunn flashed a twisted sneer before the expression died down into a muted smirk. “We’ll see Prince. I wouldn’t put all my bids onto one woman. I have a feeling that the king will see the light in the months to come.”

Garn laughed and downed the rest of his drink before smashing his wine glass against the floor. “Thank the gods I had someone like Hazeel to smack the stupid out of me before I grew up to be like you.”

Braunn’s face turned red, but he did nothing as Garn walked out of the mess hall with pride and confidence in every step. A fact which went unappreciated by Braunn, but put a smile on the face of Hazeel, who was watching from the shadows of the hall’s second floor.