They hesitated—steel trembled in gloved hands, breath fogged in the chill of the morning. The wariness on their faces was obvious. I mean, even the prince's order wouldn't instantly erase the chance I might twist and strike. They were right to be careful. Trust is a weapon of its own.
"W-What are you all doing? Put them down!"
The prince barked a command, and slowly, one by one, they lowered their swords. The metal made an uneasy clink as it slid into scabbards or was planted point-first in the soil. Their stances softened a fraction, not from relief but from calculation. They'd obeyed, but caution clung to them like armor.
For a moment, the clearing was still—breathing in and holding itself. I eased the pressure on Ayuru's blade but didn't pull it away. The prince's face was flushed, lips trembling between rage and the realization that this fight hadn't gone how he'd planned.
I swung a casual grin at him. "See? Nobody had to die today."
