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Huffing and puffing, the small boy lifted the wooden training axe with increasingly leaden arms, feet wearily sliding into position.
Nader nodded encouragingly. “One more set, then we can take a break.”
Deep breath in. Khalid launched himself at his combat instructor, raising his weapon to strike the man’s left side just like he was taught. Nader blocked the blow and Khalid followed up with another attack, then another—all of them blocked with minimal effort. Growing frustrated, the boy feinted to the left. This time, when the man raised his own training axe, Khalid ducked down, swiping at his opponent’s feet.
The bigger they are, the harder they fall—or so he thought. But despite Nader’s size, he was surprisingly nimble, jumping over the weapon before catching the handle with his blade, wrenching it out of Khalid’s hand with a twist and sending it clattering to the ground.
“Now you’re thinking on your feet!” The man bellowed, approval coloring his tone. “Ah, but not quite good enough to catch Nader the Undefeated off guard.”
Hmph! There was only so much a five-year-old could do against a seasoned Almyran general. But oh, he wouldn’t be undefeated forever. In fact… maybe some itching powder in the man’s laundry next week could help that day arrive sooner.
Khalid collapsed onto the ground, worn out but gleeful, teeth flashing against sun-soaked skin.
“Oof,” he suddenly grunted as something hit his chest, pulling him from schemes of triumph.
He lifted his head briefly before letting it thump softly back into the dirt. Grabbing the waterskin, he took greedy gulps. It was lukewarm, but he was too parched to care.
“Not bad today,” Nader said, resting beside him.
Maybe it was the warm rays of the sun across his skin, the pleasant soreness of tired muscles, or the droop of heavy lids as sleep crept into his veins.
“Hey, Nader?”
“What is it, kiddo?”
Whatever it was, Khalid was barely aware he’d opened his mouth again until the words had already slipped out.
“How did you get your wife to marry you?”
“Now why would you—”
A chill wracked the boy’s body at the sudden silence and all thoughts of a nap fled his mind. This did not bode well. Wide eyes snapping to Nader, his fears were confirmed a second later as the man’s features morphed into a sly smirk.
“Oho! Do my ears deceive me? Does our prince have someone he fancies?”
“A-actually…” Khalid quickly scrambled to his feet. “Master Hassan wanted me to—” He made a run for it, but his feet were suddenly kicking the air instead of the ground.
“Argh! Nader! Let go!”
“Not ‘til you tell me about this girl you like—no wait, let me guess.” A short moment of contemplation. “Is it the northern tribe leader’s daughter? Got a tongue sharper than a wyvern’s claws, that one. Ah, but maybe you like that?”
Cheeks aflame, Khalid refused to meet his instructor’s gaze.
“Hmm… Or maybe the Head Chef’s niece? You do spend a lot of time in the palace kitchens.”
“Nader,” Khalid cut him off, delivering with all the seriousness a five-year-old could muster, “I’m only in the kitchens in my official capacity as food-taster. How else will I know if a dish is up to my parents’ standards?”
An unrestrained snort. “Yeah, everyone knows how much Their Majesties love pies. Even more than a certain impish prince.”
Khalid bristled, but didn’t rise to the bait. “Exactly.”
“Nice try, but you’re not getting off that easy,” the man said with a chuckle. “So?”
“I don’t… fancy… anyone!” Flailing, the boy renewed his struggle to wiggle out of his instructor’s grasp, but it only served to tighten his shirt around his chest and shoulders.
A heavy sigh, then Nader lifted Khalid until they were face to red face. “Come on, kiddo. Haven’t I always taught you to fight your battles head on?”
“This isn’t a fight!” He protested.
“All those hours in the library and you’ve never come across the phrase ‘love is a battlefield?’”
“I don’t love By—”
One syllable was all that was needed to expose him. Khalid choked, but the only possible reason was because Nader’s grip on the back of his tunic was too tight.
“Aha…” Dark eyes glimmered knowingly and somehow, the smirk grew even more sinister. “The mercenary’s daughter.”
Khalid’s feet met solid ground once more, but it was too late. His deepest, darkest secret had been revealed and the entire province would hear tell of it by day’s end. But as bad as that was, it wasn’t even the worst part. No. The worst part was he wouldn’t be able to win Byleth over first. Now, he’d never get the chance to wheedle more than two words out of her whenever they coincidentally ran into each other in the palace; or hold her hand as they fled from the Head Chef’s wrath, spoils in hand.
“Quite a fighter, that one. Remember that time she flipped you over her shoulder? Didn’t even break a sweat!”
Nader’s rambling faded into the background as Khalid mentally prepared to sneak off across the mountains, never again to step foot in the Great Desert. Eventually, the man’s voice trailed off, replaced by a few sympathetic pats on the boy’s back. It was comforting… but no! Khalid would not be swayed! There was nothing left for him in Almyra. Resolutely, he began walking toward the palace to pack his belongings.
“Wha—hey! I thought you wanted my advice!”
Stopping in his tracks, Khalid whipped around to face Nader, jaw hanging. “You mean you’ll help me?”
“Of course!” The man replied, a particularly pleased smile on his lips. “I used to be quite popular with the ladies, you know. More popular than even His Majesty, if you can believe it!”
He didn’t.
Nonetheless, when Nader waved him back over, Khalid complied. A large hand patted the ground, setting off a cloud of dust. Oh well. It wasn’t as if he could be any more covered in dirt. Once he’d taken a seat, Nader began to instruct him on the art of wooing.