Aurein's POV
"Prince Aurein... what do you think you're doing?" General Voltaire said, his voice edged with confusion as he stared at me.
For a heartbeat, my breath caught—his presence alone could knock the air from my lungs. That dominating aura of his always hit like a punch. But no. I had a mission...
I was here to seduce him.
So I lifted my shoulder just slightly, letting a sliver of bare skin show—an innocent, calculated reveal, like I was offering him an invitation he didn't know he needed.
His brows furrowed.
Good. Good! That meant something was working—right?
"Why are you wearing the female training gear again?" he asked, irritation sharpening his tone.
"It's lighter and easier to move in. Also, the men's gear is a little too warm," I said as I casually extended one leg, letting the sunlight hit my thigh just right.
He froze.
Then—he turned around and walked off.
"You better finish running. Otherwise, none of you will eat," he said as he left.
I blinked.
What.
My plan didn't work?
He—he just walked away? Like it was nothing?
I stared helplessly at Dante, Asper, and Ton-Ton.
Dante scratched his head, looking genuinely perplexed.
"I think we assumed wrong. General Voltaire doesn't seem... attracted to your body, Prince Aurein," he said.
Asper nodded sagely.
"He's impossible to read. No one ever knows what he's thinking. But it's unlikely he'd be attracted to you—everyone here knows he's only interested in women."
Ton-Ton held up my men's training gear.
"Do you still want to change, Prince Aurein?" he asked.
I grabbed my hair with both hands, resisting the urge to tear it out.
"Never mind. I'll just wear this one," I said.
"Okay, Prince Aurein. I'll return this to the hut," Ton-Ton said before jogging off.
"Let's just run. We're wasting time," I said, annoyed, and we all began sprinting again.
* * *
After several rounds, Asper, Dante, and the other warriors had collapsed dramatically onto the ground, limbs sprawled, unable to even move their legs after completing laps.
And me?
Oh, I was still running.
Still suffering.
Still questioning why the gods had abandoned me.
Ever since General Voltaire became my trainer, all I've done is run. Run here. Run there. Run for survival. Run for his entertainment. Run for reasons unknown to mortal minds.
I was on my twenty-seventh lap now. I still had ten more to go—ten more until thirty-seven. Ten more laps around a lake so enormous it felt like it had its own seasons.
My legs burned. My lungs screamed. My vision swayed. I found myself staring up at the sky as I ran, as if begging the heavens for mercy.
"General Voltaire," I muttered under my breath, fury rising with every step, "I swear, the day I become King of Ardentia, you will be the first creature I punish for all the torment you've put me through..."
I slowed just enough to look around.
Where was that man, anyway?
We were the ones dying out here.
And he always vanished—only reappearing when he wanted to complain or punish us again.
Then, I saw him.
Off in the distance, at a secluded spot—General Voltaire was practicing swordsmanship. Shirtless.
Shirtless.
Of course.
The morning sun traced every line of muscle across his back, the defined ridges of his torso illuminating with each powerful swing. His movements were fluid, precise, a dance of strength and discipline. The air around him seemed to shift with each strike, focused and unrelenting.
I hated how impressive he looked.
...Actually, no. I hated that I noticed how impressive he looked.
As I continued running, some young women—probably around my age—stood near the fruit trees. They picked fruits half-heartedly, too distracted as their eyes followed him, cheeks flushed, giggling under their breath.
They were clearly admiring him.
He didn't spare them even a glance.
Focused.
Serious.
Entirely absorbed in his training.
Or... maybe he was showing off for them.
Who knew with that man?
Either way, my plan definitely wasn't working.
And worse—those girls were ogling the general.
Unacceptable.
Annoyed beyond belief, I sped up my pace. I didn't even care where I was running anymore—I just wanted to get away from those girls and their giggle echoing across the training grounds, peeling at my nerves like thorns.
At some point, time slipped through my fingers without me noticing.
"Prince Aurein! Wait—hold on!" Dante said, trying to block my path.
But I kept running, forcing him to chase after me.
"What now?" I snapped.
"You've already reached forty laps. Weren't you counting? We thought you were just... enjoying the run, so we didn't stop you," he said.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
And right in front of me—because the universe hated me—was General Voltaire, speaking with the fruit-picking women. The same women I'd been trying to avoid. The same women laughing earlier.
"I was irritated. I just wanted to keep running," I said.
"Well... we're starving, to be honest. Asper and Ton-Ton told me to stop you already before we passed out from hunger," Dante said.
"Well, I'm not hungry. I lost my appetite. Tell your General—who's busy flirting with women over there—that I'm done running. I'll go take a bath by myself, alone," I said.
Dante couldn't say another word because I had already stormed off toward the quiet stream.
When I reached the peaceful spring, I peeled off my training gear until only the small cloth covering my lower body remained. I stepped into the cool water, letting it rise to my waist before I submerged and soaked my hair.
Only then did some of my anger dissolve.
"Why am I even upset?" I muttered. "I shouldn't be acting like this," I said to myself, shaking my head.
I gently wiped my arms, feeling the smoothness of my skin under the water as I tried to mind my own business.
That was when a voice I despised hearing intruded.
"There is a schedule for bathing. You can't just do it whenever you please," someone said.
Of course.
Of course!
I turned—and there he was.
General Voltaire.
Shirtless.
Muscles on full display like the world was his personal stage.
"So what? You can take a bath whenever you like just like you did yesterday. So why can't I? You're going to forbid me from bathing now too? I finished the thirty-seven laps you gave me—and guess what—I even exceeded it and ran forty. I'm exhausted, alright? So stay away from me and go back to your ladies," I said, turning my back to him.
"If you don't get out of there, you're going to run out of food," he said.
"I don't care. I'm not hungry," I said as I continued washing my hands and arms, refusing to look at him.
"You even bathe like a woman," he said.
"And why should I care about your opinion? Leave me alone. You're ruining my bath," I said. "I need my peace. My solitude."
He sighed softly.
When I turned, he was gone.
"Good," I muttered, annoyed, and continued bathing.
But then—voices.
Female voices.
"General Voltaire is so handsome, isn't he? I want him to be my husband."
"You're right. And that body of his... it's so nice to look at."
"Doesn't he not have a lover right now? I want to catch his attention."
Their whispers floated through the air—until they noticed me.
"P-Prince Aurein!" one of them said quickly. All three halted and bowed respectfully.
I merely glanced sideways at them and continued wiping my skin.
"We—we didn't know you were here," another said.
"Now you know. Leave," I said flatly. "Hmpf."
They scattered away in a hurry.
"He is so handsome. I want to catch General Voltaire's attention bla bla bla..." I mimicked one of them with an exaggerated tone, rolling my eyes. "He's a womanizer! He could juggle all of you at once. That two-faced general! In front of my father and mother, he acts so proper and noble—but with me? He acts like some arrogant beast!"
I huffed and decided to get out of the water.
But the moment my feet touched the ground—I froze.
My training gear was gone.
My eyes widened with irritation.
There was only one person bold enough—annoying enough—to steal my clothes.
"GENERAL VOLTAIRE! GIVE ME BACK MY TRAINING GEAR!" I yelled.
Silence.
Absolutely no response.
I stood there in nothing but a white cloth wrapped around my waist, feeling practically naked as the cold breeze brushed against my wet skin. Goosebumps rose instantly.
"You infuriating man!" I said, shivering as I hurried away.
I marched toward the hut where Ton-Ton had placed my spare gear.
"Good thing he doesn't know I have another one," I said triumphantly as I stepped inside the hut. "Ha!"
And finally—finally—I let myself breathe.
But then—I paused.
"Where... did Ton-Ton put my men's training gear?" I wondered aloud.
I searched every corner of the hut, rummaging through baskets, under blankets, behind crates—but no matter how desperately I looked, it was nowhere to be found.
With rising irritation, I marched out and headed toward the warriors' dining area even if I am barely wearing any clothing!
When I arrived, they weren't eating at all.
They were standing—every one of them—staring up at a single towering tree.
I didn't care what spectacle they were gawking at. I went straight for Ton-Ton.
"Ton-Ton, where did you put my men's training gear?" I said.
He slowly turned to me—
—and nearly screamed when he saw me standing there with my hands on my hips, wearing nothing but a thin white cloth around my waist.
"Prince Aurein!" he said, shocked.
"Prince Aurein! You'll get cold!" Dante said frantically, already reaching to take off his own gear to cover me—but I stopped him with a hand.
"No need. Have you seen my training gear?" I said. "For sure General Voltaire hid it to annoy me."
"That might be what you're looking for, Prince Aurein," Asper said as he pointed toward the top of the tree.
I followed his gesture...
...and my eyes widened in pure, unfiltered rage.
Hanging from the highest branches of the tree—dangling like flags of humiliation—were my two missing training clothes.
"You shameless creature—General Voltaire!" I said.
"That is your punishment for disobeying my orders," General Voltaire said as he stepped out from behind the tree, strolling casually as if he had just done the most righteous act in the world.
"Bring my clothes back! Get them down this instant!" I snapped.
"I already told you—there is a proper time for bathing, Prince Aurein. If you want your clothes, then go get them. Start climbing," he said.
"You bully of a general! I swear, I despise you from the deepest depths of my heart!" I said.
He raised an eyebrow, unbothered.
"You can complain all you want, but unless you retrieve those clothes, your companions will not eat."
That made me freeze.
I looked at Dante, Asper, Ton-Ton and the others.
"You haven't eaten yet?"
They all shook their heads at the same time, pitifully.
"Ugh!" I groaned, narrowing my eyes at the General. "You expect me to climb that tree? Like this? I'm practically naked! What if I fall? What if I injure myself—or worse?!"
"In war, disaster does not wait for comfort. A real man is not afraid of scratches or bruises. Unless... you're not truly a man," he said, taunting me.
"General!"
"Think of your clothes as... hostages. As the future king of Ardentia, you must find a way to save your people," he said.
"This is not the time for your useless jokes!"
"I am not joking, Prince Aurein. Everything I do is for your own good. I am shaping you into a warrior who can face danger without hesitation," he said.
"In case you forgot—I don't want to be a warrior!"
"That is your choice. But as long as you complain, everyone here will starve," he said.
"You manipulative general! If not for them, you'd be dead right now!" I said angrily as I stomped toward the tree.
"Prince Aurein, we can help—" Ton-Ton said nervously.
"No," General Voltaire said with a smirk, folding his arms. "No one is to help him. Let him figure it out on his own."
I rolled my eyes at him and looked up.
"I take back everything I said before. Even if I was a girl, you're no longer my type, General Voltaire. I absolutely loathe you," I muttered under my breath.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Don't talk to me!" I said, gripping the tree trunk as I tried to climb.
But every time I planted my foot on the bark, it slipped.
Every attempt ended with me sliding back down and getting dirt all over my freshly washed arms.
"Ugh! I just finished bathing, and now I'm filthy again! This is your fault, General Voltaire!" I said while brushing dirt angrily off my skin.
"Our future king is quite fussy. He's fussier than the women," he said mockingly.
I ignored him—because if I didn't, I might actually punch him. And punching a general probably counted as treason.
I looked up again.
There was absolutely no way I could climb that height.
I wasn't trained for climbing trees.
I wasn't even trained for this kind of humiliation.
So I thought of another strategy—grab a stone and throw it to knock the clothes down.
But no matter how hard I threw, the stones didn't even reach halfway up the tree.
I glanced at General Voltaire.
He was covering his mouth with the back of his hand, shoulders trembling—trying not to laugh.
He was enjoying this.
But I refused to be defeated.
Not by his arrogance.
Not by his bullying.
Not by his ridiculous challenges.
I straightened my back and clenched my jaw. I would show him that I could overcome this.
That I wasn't someone he could mock forever.
That I could rise to his level—and make him regret underestimating me.
I would not back down.
Not today.
Not to him.
I glanced around, searching desperately for anything—anything—that could help me retrieve my stolen clothes.
Then I spotted a long tree branch.
A brilliant idea flickered in my mind.
I grabbed it and tried to hook my clothes from the branches high above.
But no matter how I stretched or angled the stick, I was simply too small.
Too short.
Too doomed.
I kept trying—again and again—but the clothes remained far out of reach, taunting me. Eventually, frustration surged, and I dropped the branch to the ground with a sharp exhale.
"What's wrong? Running out of strategies?" General Voltaire said, teasing me like it was his life's calling.
"Don't talk to me!" I snapped and refocused on the towering tree, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble.
I huffed and turned away, pacing off.
"Where are you going? Giving up already?" he said.
"I'll be back!" I shouted, heading straight toward the armory hut.
I could easily grab a fresh training gear set and tell my father about the stolen one. Problem solved.
But no—my pride was on the line, and I would rather die than let General Voltaire think he had defeated me.
Inside the armory, I searched for something—anything—that could help.
Arrows? No. I'd accidentally shoot someone.
Axes, swords, spears? Useless.
But then—something caught my eye.
A slingshot.
A slow, dangerous smirk curled on my lips.
Perfect.
Grabbing it, I marched back outside—only to find General Voltaire waiting with that insufferable, arrogant smirk plastered across his annoyingly perfect face.
"Let's see what that slingshot can do," he said casually.
I ignored him, picked up a small pebble, and aimed.
The shot flew—
—but missed entirely.
The force was too weak.
"You have to pull it harder," he said.
"I know what I'm doing!" I snapped.
"Okay," he said, raising both hands in surrender.
I tried again. This time, the pebble hit—but the force wasn't strong enough to knock my gear loose.
So I picked a larger pebble.
Again and again, I tried—each shot hitting, but not enough. My neck strained from looking up too long.
Then—I paused.
Near General Voltaire were the same young women from earlier, handing him fruits like he was some holy, shirtless deity.
My blood boiled.
My grip tightened.
And with every ounce of irritation fueling me—
SMACK!
My training clothes finally fell from the tree.
I grabbed them instantly, hugging them with all the pent-up rage of the past hour.
As I turned away to change, General Voltaire called out behind me.
"Well done! You managed to retrieve your clothes. Now, I hope you finally understand that you must follow commands—because everything has its proper time. You cannot simply do whatever you wish," he said.
I didn't even look at him.
I was too irritated.
Especially after seeing how he entertained those women like some flirtatious, shirtless peacock.
I wasn't jealous or anything. Not that I have the right to do so.
...It was just annoying.
That's all.
Just annoying.
* * *
After changing back into my male training gear, I returned to where the warriors were eating.
Of course—they were eating the usual lifeless roasted meat. Nothing new. But I was starving as well, so I couldn't complain anymore.
I gathered a bowl and walked to the grilling station...
...only to find General Voltaire standing right beside it.
Perfect.
Exactly what I didn't need.
I ignored him completely—not even a side glance.
"I thought you wouldn't make it," he said. "But you managed to accomplish everything I wanted today. Congratulations. You are proving yourself worthy of a prince."
I gave him the smallest side-eye known to mankind. Then continued grabbing meat.
He grinned.
And—of course—he started teasing me again.
"You're the only man I know who rolls his eyes better than women," he said. "And why aren't you wearing your women's training gear? I thought you wanted to be a girl?"
"Don't care, I rather save my energy for eating than talking with you." I said, taking my bowl and walking away—far from him. I sat down and focused on my food, refusing to acknowledge his existence.
While I was eating, still staring at my bowl, a hand suddenly rested on top of my head.
"General Voltaire, I'm eating. Can you not?" I said irritably, still not looking up.
The hand ruffled my hair.
"General! Stop—" I snapped, finally looking up.
But General Voltaire was still at the grilling station.
My eyes widened.
My heart skipped.
"Wait—if you're there... then who's behind me?" I said.
I turned—
And my breath caught.
"Hello, Aurein. Long time no see. King Lucen told me I'd find you here," the man said with a faint smile.
My eyes lit up.
"Rowan!" I said happily, immediately placing my bowl down, standing up, and throwing my arms around him.
"I haven't seen you in so long. You've certainly grown," he said softly.
I pulled away from the hug, smiling.
"You too. You've gotten so much taller! I used to be bigger than you, but now you're taller and... more mature. More regal," I said with a laugh. "What brings you here? I thought you wouldn't show up anymore."
"I'm here with my father. We need to discuss something important with the King—issues regarding the Southern Region. Boring matters I know you'd rather not talk about," he said with a wink.
"You still remember the things I dislike," I said.
"Of course. I know your dislikes just as well as your likes," he said.
"Who is he, Prince Aurein?" Ton-Ton asked as he chew the meat.
"Ah, right. This is Rowan—the son of Duke Kristoff, who oversees the southern region of our kingdom," I said. "He's my childhood best friend. We used to spend almost every day together in the palace."
"Lord Rowan, it is an honor to meet you," Ton-Ton, Asper, and Dante said as they bowed.
"There's no need for formal greetings," Rowan said with a warm smile before turning back to me. "Your father said you were training with the warriors?"
"Yup. You know why. Prince duties," I said with a sheepish laugh.
"Very good. Looks like you're embracing the role of crown prince," he said and tapped my head lightly.
"Just doing what I can. It's tiring, but... it's for the kingdom," I said with a smile.
"Oh! Do you want to walk with me? I have so many stories for you," Rowan said.
"Sure! I have plenty to tell you too!" I said happily.
It was then that I noticed something strange—
General Voltaire had stopped eating.
As in... he literally froze mid-chew.
"We still have to finish today's training..." General Voltaire said suddenly, stepping toward us. His tone was so serious that Rowan and I both turned to him. "Lord Rowan," he added with a bow, showing the respect due to a duke's son.
"If I'm not mistaken... General Voltaire, correct? Ardentia's youngest general and a war prodigy," Rowan said.
"That is correct, Lord Rowan," General Voltaire said, and now he was showing his full intimidating, disciplined, commanding aura—the complete opposite of the teasing menace he was earlier.
Wow.
A while ago he was taunting me relentlessly.
Now he was acting like the kingdom's most honorable soldier?
"Is it alright if Prince Aurein is excused from training? I'd just like to talk with him," Rowan said.
"Is that conversation more important than his development as a warrior?" Voltaire said flatly. "Because as far as I know, his training holds greater weight."
"What do you say, Aurein?" Rowan asked gently. "You're the crown prince. Whatever you choose will be followed."
I swallowed and glanced at General Voltaire.
He did not look pleased.
At all.
If Rowan knew the truth—that General Voltaire never followed my orders, that he treated me like a recruit instead of a prince—what would he even say?
"Umm..." I muttered. I lowered my gaze. "I... might have to finish my training first," I said quietly.
"You heard the prince," General Voltaire said immediately. "We follow what he wants. Don't we?" he added, glaring at me with an intimidating sharpness.
If he didn't terrify me with that aura, I swear I would've kicked him in the shin right there.
"If you don't mind, Lord Rowan, our break is over. We will proceed with sword training," General Voltaire said.
"Sword training? That's great!" Rowan said with a bright smile. He turned to me. "I can join! I can teach you everything I know about swordsmanship, Aurein."
"Really?" I said, smiling—until I glanced at General Voltaire.
...
Why did this suddenly feel like a terrible idea?
"Let's begin, General Voltaire. I'll be Aurein's partner so you can focus on your warriors. I'll take care of him," Rowan said casually.
General Voltaire didn't respond. But I did see something. His jaw tightened.
Barely.
Almost invisible. So small I thought I imagined it. But no—that was a twitch.
A dangerous one.
Oh no.
OH NO.
I suddenly felt cold.
A storm named General Voltaire was gathering—silent, dark, and ready to tear through everything in its path.
And I... was standing right in the middle of it!
End of Chapter 11