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Dark Moon Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 401. Old Habits
🕑 Added 2025-05-23 02:30:42 +0000 UTCThird Arc (Fallen Heart) - 401. Old Habits
The evening came, and with it, the familiar hush that fell over the castle grounds when most of the court withdrew behind heavy doors and polished halls. Rose had finally finished her duties for the day. Her feet ached a little, her shoulders had that soft tension that came from wearing formal layers all day. But her steps were calm, unhurried, as she made her way toward her chamber.
Then she stopped.
Her eyes caught something—no, someone—just past the open corridor that led toward the west training ground. The faint clang of metal drifted through the stone archway. The sound was sharp and steady, too familiar by now to be mistaken.
She moved closer.
There he was.
The King. Her husband. Still dressed in his black tunic, sleeves rolled to the elbows, sweat glinting across his collarbones and temple beneath the setting sun. His sword moved with the kind of precision that was almost hypnotic—measured steps, shifting weight, a pivot, then a strike that cracked through the air.
Even now, with guests still lingering in the castle and half the nobility whispering behind every pillar, he didn’t skip it. His routine. The one thing he never let go of.
Angel trained like a man who expected war at dawn.
Rose watched from the shadows for a moment longer, unnoticed. She wasn’t the only one watching. A few castle staff had paused nearby—young squires mostly, an advisor or two. But one figure stood out… Lord Darius of Harmonia, arms crossed, his attention fixed not on the sword—but the man wielding it.
Rose didn’t hesitate.
She stepped out from the archway and crossed the outer line of the courtyard, her heels tapping gently against the flagstone. Darius turned his head slightly at the sound, and upon seeing her, he straightened and gave a respectful bow.
“Your Majesty.”
“Lord Darius.” She smiled politely. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“I could say the same,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “But… I suppose it’s hard not to stop and watch. He’s relentless.”
“That’s one word for it,” Rose said with a soft laugh, her gaze drifting back toward Angel.
He hadn’t stopped. He’d moved to sparring against two soldiers now—Black Devil elites, if she wasn’t mistaken. Even in the dimming light, he moved like a shadow, aggressive, calculating, utterly in control. One strike disarmed the first. A twisting parry forced the second back. His breathing never faltered.
Darius watched a moment longer, then spoke, quieter this time. “I’ve seen a lot of men train. But not like him. It’s not just skill. He’s... dangerous.”
“He always has been,” Rose said softly. “But it’s not the kind of danger people assume.”
Darius gave her a sideways glance. “No?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t swing to show off. He doesn’t move to impress. He’s not playing a part. He trains because he remembers what it’s like to be hunted. To bleed. And he knows better than to ever be unprepared.”
Darius was quiet for a beat. “You admire that.”
“Of course,” Rose said without hesitation. “Don’t you?”
He gave a low hum, then nodded. “I do.”
Angel’s sword clanged once more, then he halted. Just like that. He straightened, exhaled, and handed the blade off to one of the soldiers, who quickly stepped back. He ran a hand through his damp hair and finally looked toward them.
His gaze locked with hers first. Always. A flicker of something softened in his face, like the storm behind his eyes paused just for her.
“Rose,” he called across the stone. Not anything formal. Just her.
She stepped forward, ignoring the slight tug of her hem against the wind. “Training until nightfall again?”
Angel wiped his brow with a towel, then tossed it over his shoulder. “Old habits.”
Darius offered a bow. “Your Majesty, if you’ll excuse me. I should return to the guest wing. Tomorrow, I will leave at dawn. Thank you for your hospitality.”
Angel gave him a sharp nod. “Lord Darius. Hope you will have a safe journey.”
Rose watched as Darius turned and left without another word, disappearing into the corridor. Then she looked back at Angel.
He was still watching her. Carefully. Calm.
“You always find me like this,” he said with a faint smirk.
