Adrian guided his horse into the stables, the animal’s breaths misting in the crisp evening air. The rhythmic clatter of its hooves against the worn stone path echoed faintly, accompanied by the low snort of exertion.

Draped securely across the horse’s back was the stag, its lifeless body swaying slightly with each step. Soon, Adrian slid from the saddle with a groan, stretching his stiff legs. Another hour of this and I’d have been as stiff as that stag.

Taking the reins, he led the horse toward the stalls, the faint scent of hay mingling with sweat and earth. The familiar, grounding smell did little to ease the ache in his muscles, but he took a moment to pat the horse’s neck in silent thanks.

Natasha was leaning casually against one of the sturdy wooden beams, arms crossed in mock nonchalance. Her black mare stood nearby, and draped across its saddle was her prize: a stag larger and more imposing than Adrian’s, its massive antlers a crown of victory.

“Well, well,” Natasha drawled, a smirk pulling at her lips as she straightened with an almost feline grace. “Not bad, Adrian. For someone going up against me, I’d say your performance was... respectable.”

Adrian clicked his tongue, pulling his horse to a halt with a soft tug. Despite himself, a crooked smile ghosted across his face. “Respectable? Coming from you, that’s practically a standing ovation.”

Natasha arched an eyebrow. “Don’t let it go to your head, Adrian. You still have to honor your end of the bet. Or did you forget?”

Of course she wouldn’t let me off the hook. Adrian shrugged, feigning indifference. “Fine, fine. What’s it going to be, then?”

Natasha’s smirk widened. She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly as if savoring his growing unease. “Oh, don’t worry, Adrian. I’ve got an idea.”

Adrian groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just spit it out already, what’s your big plan?”

***

Adrian let out a quiet sigh, leaning slightly against the wall behind Natasha. She was seated at the grand dining table, savoring a delicate confection of cream and fruit that looked as though it belonged in a painting.

Meanwhile, Adrian’s gaze drifted downward to his own attire: a crisp butler’s uniform, impeccably tailored but entirely out of place for someone like him. He adjusted the cuffs with an air of resignation, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Well, this isn’t the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done. At least the suit fits.

Natasha, delicately spearing a piece of the dessert with her fork, tilted her head slightly, as if she could feel his eyes on her. “So, how does it feel, Adrian? Being my servant for the evening, I mean.”

Adrian shrugged nonchalantly, crossing his arms. “I’ve been through worse."

Natasha’s lips curved into a mischievous smile as she set her fork down, her silver eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But I think you’re enjoying this more than you’d admit.”

"How did you even find a uniform that fits me?"

"Some of the staff at the manor bring in their children to work too from time to time, you were fortunate enough to receive one of their leftovers."

Adrian sighed, shaking his head. “Then at the very least, I hope you don't get used to seeing me in this uniform."

“We’ll see,” she replied with a playful air, taking another bite of her dessert. Her demeanor was calm, but the glint in her eye said everything: she was enjoying this far more than the dessert on her plate.

Adrian stood silently, his arms loosely crossed as Natasha took another bite of her dessert, her expression one of serene satisfaction. That was until his gaze drifted idly toward the entrance, where a group of children had just entered.

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They wore tailored black uniforms of with gold accents, pristine and undoubtedly expensive. Adrian frowned slightly, tilting his head as he studied them. Those aren’t ordinary kids. What are they, nobles? Scholars?

Natasha, catching the subtle shift in his expression, dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin and looked over her shoulder. “Something on your mind, Adrian?”

He nodded toward the group of uniformed children. “Is there an academy in South Tusk?”

Natasha leaned back in her chair. She examined the children for a moment before shrugging elegantly. “No, there isn’t, why do you ask?”

“Then do you know where those kids come from?"

Natasha’s lips curved into a sly smile as she turned back to him, resting her chin lightly on her hand. “Do you really want to know?” she asked, her tone teasing.

Adrian rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes. Enlighten me.”

Her smile widened, and she set her fork down. “I’ll tell you… but only if you get me another dessert first.” She gestured toward the now-empty plate in front of her, her expression a perfect picture of smug satisfaction.

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Of course she’d use this as an opportunity to make me jump through hoops. “You could just tell me, you know.”

“I could, but where’s the fun in that?”

"Whatever, I'll be back soon."

“Just don’t forget the whipped cream this time."

Adrian waved a hand dismissively as he walked away, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. She’s impossible.

When he approached the counter, Adrian ordered another dessert: a more extravagant one this time, ensuring Natasha would have no room for complaints. While waiting, his mind wandered back to the group of kids. If there’s no academy here, then who are they? And why do they look so polished?

The server handed him the dessert, a beautifully plated confection topped with an absurd swirl of whipped cream. He carried it carefully back to Natasha, setting it down in front of her with a small flourish.

“Your highness,” he said dryly, straightening with an exaggerated bow.

Natasha chuckled softly, picking up her fork with an air of triumph. “Good work, Adrian. I might keep you around after all.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Now, about those kids.”

Natasha took her time with her dessert, savoring each bite as Adrian stood nearby, arms crossed and patience wearing thin. Until finally, she rested her fork on the plate and glanced up at him with an almost casual air. “Those kids are from the Mistral Royal Academy.”

“Mistral Royal Academy? What’s that?”

“Only the most prestigious institution in the kingdom. Maybe even the continent. It’s where the best and brightest go to learn, train, and, let’s be honest, show off.”

“Are you saying you’re planning to go there?”

“Yep, next year. I’ll be eligible to enroll once I turn twelve. Daddy's already made the arrangements.”

“Twelve?” Adrian repeated, his brows knitting together in thought. It'll be another three years before I can enroll… what a shame, I'm curious as to what this academy actually has going on for it.

Before he could say anything else, Natasha cut him off with a sharp, knowing look. “The academy isn’t for just anyone. It’s for the best, brightest, and most well-connected. You need more than just talent; you need a name.”

Adrian’s lips twitched into a faint smirk as he crossed his arms again. “A name, huh? Good thing I’m already called Adrian.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You know what I mean, it's not just about being good at what you do. The Mistral Royal Academy is a place where future leaders, strategists, and innovators are shaped. They don’t just let anyone walk in off the street.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “What makes it so prestigious?”

“It was built by the royal family, originally as a training ground for knights and diplomats. Over the centuries, it’s grown into something much bigger. Families from all over the continent: elves, dwarves, beastkin send their children there as well."

Adrian let her words sink in, his mind racing with possibilities. A place like that could teach me so much about this new world, I'd be able to meet a lot of new talented people too. “So it’s not just a school, it's a proving ground.”

Natasha nodded, her expression sharpening again. “Exactly. The academy doesn’t just train its students to excel; it pushes them to outshine everyone else. You don’t graduate from the Royal Academy as just another noble or mage. You graduate as someone worth remembering.”

“Sounds intense. No wonder you’re aiming for it.”

“Of course, where else would someone like me belong?”

Adrian tilted his head slightly, his smirk growing. “Sounds interesting, I wonder if Lysander could pull some strings and get me in.”

Natasha let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, that’s rich, do you honestly think Daddy would go out of his way to help you?”