Valerie practiced hard with his fire magic, the intensity of his training matching the chaos within him. He was relentless in his move, each flick of his wrist and twist of his body conjuring flames that danced and roared, driven by a storm of frustration. He was intentionally hard on himself, pushing his limits, as his mind churned with the weight of his frustrations.
His father had told him to stop chasing after Islinda, labeling his love as toxic. How was that any different from Aldric’s obsession with her? He actually had Islinda’s well-being in mind unlike him! Moreover, If he gave up, who would rescue Islinda?
Then there was his mother, a woman who had never truly been maternal, now eager to use him for the power he now wielded. It was clear she saw him as a tool rather than a son. And Islinda, slowly succumbing to Aldric’s influence, was slipping further away each day.
And looming over all this was the death duel tomorrow, a fight that would decide his fate and Islinda’s. The pressure and frustration mounted inside him with increasing intensity. His mind raced with thoughts of what could go wrong, fueling his determination to master his fire magic. He couldn’t afford to lose, not when so much was at stake. Especially not to Aldric.
He executed a series of complex maneuvers, his body moving with grace and power. Each step, each kick, each punch was accompanied by a burst of flame, his control over the fire evident in every motion. His breath came in harsh gasps, sweat pouring down his face, but he didn’t stop.
Finally, he performed his last move, kicking out his leg in the air with a fierce cry. A burst of flame followed the movement, scorching the air. As he landed back on his feet, an anguished cry tore from his throat, the frustration and desperation erupting in an explosive stream of fire that burst from his body.
The soldiers who had been watching him train couldn’t help but leap back, their eyes wide with shock. They had seen Valerie train before, but this was something else entirely. The sheer intensity and raw power of the flames were unlike anything they had ever witnessed. No wonder, he was their crown prince!
As the inferno subsided, they watched him with expressions of disbelief and awe. "Did you see that?" one of them muttered, still reeling from the sight.
"That was wild!" another exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and admiration.
Valerie stood in the center of the scorched earth, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He could feel their eyes on him, could sense their shock and awe. But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t doing this for them. He was doing this for Islinda, for himself, for the chance to change everything.
The soldiers continued to murmur among themselves, the atmosphere charged with a newfound respect for Valerie. Unknown to them, that outburst from Valerie was cathartic, a release of all the pent-up emotions that had been suffocating him.
The flames slowly died down, leaving Valerie panting and drenched in sweat. He stood up just as Derek arrived with a towel and a pitcher of water. Valerie snatched the pitcher, ignoring the cup on the tray, and drank straight from it. Water dribbled down his chin and neck, some of it sloshing onto his chest. Without missing a beat, Valerie poured the rest over himself, the cool liquid mingling with the sweat and creating rivulets down his muscled torso.
The movement was unintentionally seductive, and several maidens watching couldn’t help but gasp and fawn over him, their eyes wide with admiration and desire. Valerie, however, paid them no mind. He grabbed the towel from Derek and began to wipe himself down with efficient, almost mechanical movements.
The soldiers exchanged looks, their earlier awe now tinged with a mix of respect and envy. What they would do with that amount of attention if they were in the prince’s shoes. They could already imagine the numerous females who would warm their bed every night! What a dream - that would never come true!
Derek stood by, his expression carefully neutral, already used to the reactions his prince elicited - in both females and males. Valerie finished drying off and tossed the towel to him which he caught and handed eveything to the servant close to him. The servant took it and left.
Valerie’s eyes were still blazing, but now with a different kind of fire. He met Derek’s gaze, a silent thanks in his eyes. He turned, about to return to his training only for Derek to grab his arm.
"You were close to burning out, Valerie," Derek warned him. "You should take it easy."
"I’m fine," Valerie snapped, shaking off Derek’s hand. "I need to keep training."
"You don’t understand," Derek insisted, his worry evident. "Pushing yourself this hard won’t help anyone, especially not Islinda."
Valerie’s head lolled to the side, his eyes half-closed. He tried to speak, but no words came out. His body was so tired he couldn’t lift a muscle. Derek’s grip tightened, and he gently guided Valerie away from the training area, the onlookers parting to let them pass.
Valerie slumped heavily against Derek, who bore most of his weight as they made their way back to his quarters. Each step was slow and laborious, Derek’s arm wrapped securely around Valerie’s waist to keep him upright.
Finally, they reached Valerie’s quarters. Derek pushed open the door with his shoulder and carefully guided Valerie to his bed. With a gentle but firm motion, he eased the exhausted prince onto the soft mattress. Valerie sank into the bed, his limbs heavy and unresponsive.
Derek stood over him, his brow furrowed. "What were you thinking, Valerie?" he began, his voice full of anger. "Pushing yourself like that, you’re no good to anyone if you burn out completely."
Valerie’s eyes closed, and he let out a faint sigh, unable to muster the energy to argue or even acknowledge Derek’s words. Seeing this, Derek stopped his scolding. He pulled a blanket over Valerie, tucking it around him with surprising tenderness.
"Rest now," Derek said quietly. "We’ll figure everything out tomorrow. Just... don’t do this to yourself again."
Valerie didn’t respond, his body already succumbing to the overwhelming exhaustion. Derek watched him for a moment longer, ensuring he was comfortable before turning and leaving the room quietly, closing the door behind him.
Good thing he did not tell Valerie that Islinda was in the palace. He wondered what the crazy bastard could have done.
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