The capital sprawled beneath Silverkeep Academy like a living tapestry of power and prestige. Where Ashbourne was carved from harsh mountain stone, Silverkeep rose above the city in elegant towers and manicured grounds—jewel of the kingdom, training ground for knights who would serve in courts and command armies.
Alice arrived with royal escort, her golden hair catching the afternoon sunlight as she dismounted. Even travel-worn, she was breathtaking—piercing blue eyes, delicate features, the kind of beauty that made people stop and stare. The crimson pendant rested against her heart beneath her traveling cloak, the A.A. bracelet gleaming at her wrist.
"Princess Alice," Lord Cassius greeted her at the academy gates. Former general, master of both politics and blade. "Welcome to Silverkeep Academy. Your tournament performance made acceptance simple. Come. We'll discuss your unique position here."
His office overlooked the capital. "Silverkeep trains knights for command positions—military leadership, political navigation, court intrigue alongside combat excellence."
"That's why I chose Silverkeep," Alice confirmed. "I need both warrior training and leadership education."
"Your royal status creates complications. Other students will see you as connection to power, potential alliance." His eyes dropped to her wrist where the crimson bracelet gleamed. Just jewelry to him. "You'll face constant attention."
"I can handle it."
"Tournament semi-finalist at sixteen shows fortitude." He pulled out a schedule. "Advanced combat courses immediately, given your performance. And Silverkeep offers early graduation—two years instead of three if you excel. Interested?"
Alice's heart leapt. Two years instead of three. One less year separated from Adrian. "Yes. Very interested."
"Then we'll place you on that track. Just know—at Silverkeep, you're student first, royalty second. Understood?"
"Understood."
The complications started immediately.
Alice entered the common hall and attention shifted. Her golden hair fell in waves past her shoulders, blue eyes bright with intelligence. Whispered conversations erupted—the beautiful princess, crown jewel of the kingdom, now training among them.
"Princess Alice." A handsome noble approached within minutes—expensive equipment, practiced charm. "I'm Damien Greystone. Perhaps I could show you around? I know all the best training spots."
Translation: establishing connection with future queen for political advantage.
"I appreciate the offer, but I have orientation scheduled."
"Later tonight, there's gathering—fellow nobles. You should attend." He noticed the bracelet, the crimson metal catching light. "Interesting jewelry. The engraving... what does it signify?"
"Personal meaning," Alice replied, pulling her wrist back. "If you'll excuse me."
Mira followed as they left. "That was the first of many. He's positioning himself as your connection to Silverkeep's hierarchy."
"I noticed. And he won't be the last."
Advanced Combat Theory tested her immediately.
Master Helena stood before assembled students, her eyes pausing on Alice. "We have crown princess among us. Let's see if royal bloodline translates to tactical capability."
Several students stared at the golden-haired princess. Beautiful, yes—but could she actually fight?
"Princess Alice. Hypothetical: You're commanding fifty knights defending a mountain pass against two hundred enemies. Four-to-one odds. Your tactical approach?"
Alice stood calmly, blue eyes sharp. "Establish layered defense using terrain advantage. Position archers on high ground. Funnel enemy through narrow pass where numbers become liability. Use cavalry in hit-and-run tactics against flanks while main force holds chokepoint. Force them to fight on our terms where numerical advantage is negated by geography."
"And if they bypass your position?"
"Leave mobile reserves to harry bypass attempts while maintaining chokepoint defense. Make bypassing more costly than direct assault."
Master Helena nodded slowly. "Textbook defensive doctrine. You've studied warfare theory seriously."
Alice thought of Northwatch, of learning from warriors who lived tactical thinking daily. Private knowledge. "Future queen needs to understand warfare."
"Welcome to advanced combat theory, Princess."
But not everyone respected capability over beauty.
At evening meal, another noble heir approached—tall, athletic, arrogant.
"Princess Alice." His eyes lingered on her golden hair, her striking blue eyes. "I'm Sebastian Thornhill. Heard you answered Helena's question competently. Impressive for someone who's been handed everything through birthright and looks."
The insult clear—suggesting she relied on beauty and title, not skill.
"I earned my placement through tournament performance," Alice said evenly.
"Oh, I'm sure the tournament was fair," Sebastian said with false sincerity. "No one would dare eliminate the beautiful princess. Bad politics."
Mira's hand moved to her weapon, but Alice touched her arm gently.
"If you're suggesting I didn't earn my results, test that theory in the training yards tomorrow. We'll see whether my capabilities are real or politically granted."
Sebastian's smile sharpened. "A challenge? Tomorrow afternoon, training yard three. Let's see if you're actually capable beneath that pretty face."
"I'll be there."
Training yard three was crowded the next afternoon. Word had spread—the golden-haired princess, beauty of the kingdom, dueling Sebastian Thornhill.
Alice arrived, her blue eyes calm and focused. She'd tied back her golden hair, practical rather than decorative. This was combat, not court.
Sebastian activated his blue Spirit Sword, then smiled with predatory confidence. "Before we begin, Princess—let's make this interesting. A wager."
"What kind of wager?" Alice asked, already sensing where this was going.
"If I win, you become my woman. Court me properly, give House Thornhill the honor of your favor." His smile widened. "Fair stakes for such a public challenge, don't you think?"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Demanding the princess as prize for a duel—the arrogance was staggering.
Mira stepped forward, eyes blazing. "That's—"
"Accepted," Alice said calmly, cutting her off. "And when I win, you publicly apologize for suggesting I didn't earn my tournament placement. Acknowledge you were wrong about my capabilities."
Sebastian laughed. "Confident. I like that in a woman. Very well—let's see if that beauty comes with any actual skill."
Alice drew her weapon, then activated her Spirit Sword.
White flame erupted along her blade. Base form—the same level any competent knight could produce.
Disappointment flickered through the crowd. Where was the legendary violet Spirit Sword from the tournament?
Sebastian's confidence soared. "Just white? This will be easier than I thought. Ready to become mine, Princess?"
They engaged.
Sebastian was good—first-year top combatant for a reason. Strong, fast, technically proficient. But Alice had trained at Northwatch under Adrian's instruction, had killed demons, had earned veteran status through real combat. Private knowledge that showed in every movement.
She didn't need violet manifestation. Didn't need color advantage. Just superior skill learned through actual warfare.
She read his patterns in seconds. Block. Counter. Redirect.
Thirty seconds in, Sebastian's attacks became desperate as he realized white Spirit Sword didn't mean weak opponent. Forty-five seconds, he was purely defensive, struggling against technique he couldn't match. At one minute, Alice disarmed him with contemptuous ease, white Spirit Sword blade at his throat.
Her golden hair had come partially loose during the fight, falling around her face. Blue eyes blazed with cold intensity. Breathtaking and terrifying in equal measure.
"Good match," Alice said, deactivating her Spirit Sword.
Stunned silence. She'd defeated him using just base form. Hadn't even needed the violet Spirit Sword she'd shown at the tournament.
Sebastian stood frozen, face burning with humiliation. He'd wagered to make her his woman, and she'd crushed him effortlessly.
"You lost," Alice said, her blue eyes meeting his without mercy. "Which means you owe me public apology. Now."
Sebastian's jaw clenched, but with hundreds of students watching, he had no choice. "I... apologize. You earned your tournament placement. I was wrong about your capabilities."
"Louder. Everyone should hear this."
"I WAS WRONG!" Sebastian shouted, face crimson with shame. "Princess Alice earned her placement through genuine skill, not politics. I apologize for suggesting otherwise."
"Accepted." Alice turned to address the crowd, her golden hair catching the light. "And let this be lesson for anyone else who thinks being beautiful means being weak. I earned my position through combat capability, not appearance. Challenge me if you doubt that—but don't make wagers you can't afford to lose."
The golden-haired princess walked away, leaving Sebastian humiliated and the crowd reevaluating everything they'd assumed. Beauty didn't negate capability. She was both.
That evening, a letter arrived from Ashbourne. Adrian's handwriting, crimson seal.
Alice opened it eagerly, her blue eyes scanning his words. Ashbourne's brutal culture, Roderic's challenge, defeating third-year with white Spirit Sword. And then—early graduation possibility. Two years instead of three.
She pressed the letter to her chest, golden hair falling forward as she touched the crimson pendant. Two years. They could both earn it.
She composed her response, describing Silverkeep's political atmosphere, Damien's maneuvering, Sebastian's arrogant wager demanding she become his woman if he won—and his public humiliation when he lost to her white Spirit Sword. About Lord Cassius offering early graduation.
"They offer it here too," she wrote. "Two years if I excel. We could both work toward the same goal—graduating early, reuniting a year sooner. I'll work for it just like you. Every class, every challenge, every inappropriate wager—I'll earn that early graduation. For us."
She wrote about missing him. About touching the pendant during difficult moments, the bracelet reminding her of his promise.
Then she sealed the letter and sent it east to Ashbourne.
Outside her window, Silverkeep Academy glowed with evening lights. Alice stood, her golden hair cascading down her back, blue eyes reflecting the capital below. She'd proven herself today—not as beautiful princess who commanded attention through looks, but as warrior who earned respect through capability.
Two years at Silverkeep if she earned it. She would meet those standards. She would excel. She would graduate early.
Because every day less separated from Adrian was worth fighting for.
She touched both the pendant and bracelet—his crimson against her heart, his promise at her wrist.
Two years felt manageable. Two years she could survive.
That was enough.