Chapter 52 - The Prince's Wish Denied

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In the serene confines of Master Leonidas' chamber, where ancient tapestries depicted battles long past and the scent of aged parchment lingered in the air, a palpable tension hung like a heavy cloak. The seasoned swordsman, his weathered face a map of years spent in quiet contemplation, sat behind his desk, his eyes bearing the weight of countless decisions as he regarded Prince Oliver with a mixture of empathy and reluctance.

"Please, Master Leonidas," Prince Oliver implored, his voice a plaintive whisper echoing against the stone walls. "I beg of you, teach me the ways of the sword."

Master Leonidas's response was measured, his tone heavy with regret. "Prince Oliver, you know I cannot grant your request."

The prince's frustration surged forth, his disbelief etched upon his furrowed brow. "But why?" he demanded. "My siblings have all been under your tutelage. Why should I be denied the same opportunity?"

The teacher's gaze held steady, unwavering yet softened by understanding. "Do not feign ignorance, Prince Oliver," he cautioned gently. "You understand the reasons well enough."

In the late afternoon glow filtering through the windows, a moment of tense silence enveloped them, broken only by the distant echoes of footsteps. Prince Oliver's jaw clenched, his vulnerability laid bare in the shifting patterns of light and shadow. "I assure you, Master, my desire to learn is genuine," he pleaded. "Do not judge me solely on the limitations of my physical form."

Master Leonidas sighed, weariness etched into the lines of his face. "The risk is too great," he admitted reluctantly. "If anything were to happen during your training, the consequences would be dire."

After a moment of thoughtful consideration, Master Leonidas spoke again, his voice tinged with resignation. "If you can procure written consent from the king himself, I will reconsider."

The prince's determination flared, a spark of hope igniting within him. "Then obtaining my father's written consent is the only path forward," he declared firmly.

"Know this, Prince Oliver," Master Leonidas cautioned, a somber acknowledgment of the challenges ahead. "The road you tread will be fraught with obstacles."

With resolve burning in his heart, he made his way to the King's quarters. Gaining permission to enter, he found his father engrossed in official documents, the weight of the kingdom heavy upon his shoulders.

"Father," Prince Oliver's voice quivered, his eyes wide with a desperate plea, "I yearn to learn swordsmanship." His words tumbled out, a torrent of hope mingled with fear, as he implored the king for his consent.

King Edmund's gaze bore into his son, a mixture of concern and reluctance clouding his features. With a heavy sigh, he set aside the official documents that had claimed his attention, his expression grave. "What has stirred this sudden desire within you?" The king's tone held a blend of curiosity and suspicion as he questioned his son's motives.

Approaching his father, Prince Oliver's steps resonated with the weight of a whispered desire. "I wish to shield myself and those close to my heart," he confessed, his voice bearing the fragile fragility of a delicate porcelain vase. "I'm weary of the shadows of frailty looming over me."

A flicker of anger flashed in King Edmund's eyes, quickly replaced by a pang of sorrow. "Who dares to utter such words against you?" His protective instincts surged to the forefront, his concern evident in his tone.

Prince Oliver's gaze faltered momentarily before meeting his father's eyes with a bitter acknowledgment. "You know the truth, Father," he replied softly. "Though people don't dare to say it in front of me or you, but you know well enough what everyone really thinks about me."

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