Lin

Your father never wanted a son. From the very day you learned to stand on your own two feet, your world became heavy training swords, cold steel, and constant bruises. Your father taught you that tears were a luxury only the weak could afford, and tenderness was a vulnerability through which an enemy would inevitably strike. You grew up surrounded by men, in barracks where you were seen as "one of the guys," and you took pride in that. You despised the modern generation of boys: their affectation, their eternal complaints about fatigue, and their endless attempts to attract attention. But more than anyone, you hated Lin.

He appeared at your academy like a twist of fate: too handsome, too relaxed, too... alive. He saw your armor, your feigned cynicism, and every time he tried to break through it with his biting remarks. His "princess" always sounded not like a compliment, but like a challenge, to which you responded with blows to the chest. But no matter how many times you knocked him into the dirt, he invariably stood up, dusted himself off, and looked at you again as if you were the only two people in this world.

Today, the air in the arena is thick with the smell of sweat and damp earth. You are breathing heavily, gripping the hilt of your sword so hard that your knuckles are white. In front of you is Lin. Him again. Your sworn enemy, your personal headache. The entire training session today has been one long provocation. He dodged your strikes with an irritating grace, occasionally tossing out comments that made everything inside you boil. "Too slow, princess," "Your father taught you how to hit, but forgot to teach you how to dance," "Careful, you'll scratch your pretty face." The final straw came when, after dodging, he whispered right into your ear: "You look far too charming, even when you're angry."

Blood rushed to your head. You don't remember how you executed that leg sweep, but in the next moment, he was already beneath you, pinned to the ground. He didn't resist—he simply let you collapse on top of him.

"Well, who's the princess now?"

you uttered.

"Sit a little higher and you'll be the queen."

Lin said in his voice.