Owen advanced across the strip with Steel already holding along his longsword.
Edith met his opening attack with her own reinforced blade.
Clang!
She turned his sword aside, and Owen had to adjust his footing to stay balanced. He didn’t try to force his way through. He changed his angle instead and let fire spread along the blade, then swept it across in a diagonal slash.
Whoosh!
A real arc of flame rolled through the space between them. Edith moved out of its path, and the heat washed over the place where she had been standing a moment before. Behind her, a patch of the training strip blackened where the fire struck.
She slipped past the edge and closed the distance before he could do it again.
Their swords met once more, and Owen felt her start to take control of his blade through the bind. He changed the longsword into an arming sword and stepped in closer. As she redirected his weapon, he sent Steel down over his free fist and threw a short punch at her exposed side.
Edith saw it coming. She shifted her weight and met his fist with her own forearm, already covered in metal.
Clack!
She used the contact to turn his shoulders away from her, then followed with a controlled strike that knocked him off balance.
"Hngh!"
Owen stumbled back a few steps but caught himself before he fell.
Edith let him recover his stance. Then she lowered her sword.
Around them, the training complex carried on as usual. Practice weapons clashed on the neighboring strips, and soldiers moved between their exercises. An instructor called out two recruits’ surnames and then corrected one who had stepped forward too early.
"Did you see that?" one soldier muttered nearby. "He had his fist covered while he was still holding the sword."
"Back to your drill!" the instructor barked, and the two of them went.
Edith walked over to Owen. "Your control has improved a lot. You’re getting more comfortable using your sword and your body together." She nodded at his free hand. "But you still commit too early when you go for a punch in close."
"I thought I’d found an opening," Owen said.
"You did," Edith said. "But finding an opening and getting through it before an experienced opponent reacts aren’t the same thing."
Owen rubbed his shoulder where she had turned him. Having the attack used against him made the difference very clear.
He dismissed his sword and was heading for the benches when he noticed Hugh coming in from the entrance to the training area.
Hugh waited until Edith had finished speaking before greeting them both.
"General. Young Master." He turned to Owen. "The Grand Duke wishes to see you."
"Did he say why?"
"No, Young Master. I was only told to bring you to the residence when your training was done."
"Go," Edith said. "And keep working on the timing of those close strikes."
"I will. Thank you, General."
Owen collected his things and left with Hugh.
Owen went back to his quarters to wash and change first. Agnes had already laid out a fresh set of clothes, and when he came out, she glanced at the clock.
"You’re back early, Young Master."
"My father wants to see me."
"Will you need anything before you go?"
"No, I’m fine."
She straightened his collar and tugged his coat into place anyway before she let him leave.
Hugh walked with him through the residence. In the main corridor, the household was going about its usual work. A maid carrying folded linen stepped aside to greet him, and another came out of a side room with an empty serving tray. Owen nodded to them both and kept going.
At the study door, Hugh knocked. "Young Master Owen, my lord."
"Come in."
Edmund was seated behind his desk. Gareth was standing nearby, and Eleanor sat in one of the chairs across from him. Several documents lay on the desk, among them a formal letter Owen didn’t recognize, bearing the imperial crest.
"Has Edith finished with you for the morning?" Edmund asked.
"She has."
Gareth looked him up and down. "You look surprisingly intact for someone who just spent a morning with the General."
"She was being generous today."
"That’s never a good sign," Gareth said. "It usually means she’s saving something for tomorrow."
Edmund picked up the letter. "An invitation has arrived from Princess Adelaide Staufen, the Emperor’s eldest daughter. She’s hosting the Empire’s annual ball for the sons and daughters of noble families. You and Gareth have both been invited. It’s next week, in the Imperial Capital."
Owen looked at the letter with immediate interest. He knew about the annual ball. He had grown up hearing about gatherings that members of the Great Families attended. But this was the first time an invitation had ever had his name on it.
His eyes lingered on the imperial seal and the formal script for a moment.
"Is Gareth coming with me?" he asked.
"I’d have liked to," Gareth said. "But Father’s already given me an assignment, and it falls on the same dates."
Owen looked at Edmund.
"His other responsibility comes first," Edmund said. "Since you were invited as well, I’ve decided you’ll go and represent House Ferrers."
Owen hadn’t expected to be going on his own, but he didn’t object.
He had already seen Mowbray territory, fought beside its soldiers and walked into its forest. He had never been to the Imperial Capital. The idea of seeing another part of the Empire, walking its streets and meeting people from other noble families genuinely excited him.
The ball itself would be something new as well. He knew how to conduct himself as a son of House Ferrers. A gathering of young nobles from all across the Empire was a different thing from a ceremony in his own territory, though.
"You look a lot happier about this than I expected," Gareth said.
"The capital sounds interesting," Owen admitted. He turned to his father. "Will I have time to see the city before the ball?"
"The arrangements can allow some time for that," Edmund said. "As long as you remember your responsibilities, and you go with the people assigned to you."
"You should enjoy yourself," Eleanor added. "There’s no sense in spending the whole visit shut away in your rooms. But don’t forget why you’re going. The ball comes first."
"There’ll be plenty of people worth meeting," Gareth said. "Some from families you know by reputation. Some you’ll never have heard of."
Owen found himself thinking about other awakened heirs, and how other families approached their armaments and their training.
Gareth must have seen it on his face. "You do remember it’s a ball, right? You’re not going there to find a new sparring partner."
"I can go to a celebration without challenging everyone I meet."
"Can you?"
Eleanor laughed quietly behind her hand.
"As our representative," Edmund said, "I expect you to conduct yourself properly. Make acquaintances where it’s appropriate, and make an effort with people outside our household."
"I will," Owen said.
"You’ll leave tomorrow morning," Edmund went on. "By carriage, not the airship."
Owen was pleased by that. Travelling overland, he would actually see the settlements and the countryside along the way rather than watching everything pass far below him.
"Mercer is overseeing the travel arrangements," Edmund said. "Hugh will help coordinate the escort and supplies. Agnes will go with you and look after your belongings."
"I’ll speak to Agnes about what you’ll need to wear for the ball," Eleanor said.
Before Owen left, Gareth gave him one piece of advice. "People are going to recognize you as a Grand Duke’s son. Even the ones who’ve never met you. That gets attention on its own." Then he grinned. "And if you start showing off that sword of yours, you’ll get a lot more."
"I have no intention of giving demonstrations at a royal ball."
"We’ll see."