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*Smack*

Jacob once again hit the ground as the wooden sword in his hands fell to the ground.

"Get up Your Highness, you are the future king. If you cannot learn to wield the sword, how can you become a king whom all of your subjects respect?"

Jacob looked up at the burly man, a swordmaster named Trion. He sported a grizzled beard, his body was honed and covered with numerous scars from three decades of training and fighting. Standing 6'2" and one of the strongest men in the kingdom, his job now was not only to train the young prince, but he was also his personal protector. So long as Trion drew breath, he swore no man, woman, nor beast would harm his young master.

Jacob wondered back to that pledge, did this include him? Almost all of his cuts, scrapes, and bruises were at the swordmasters hands.

Begrudgingly Jacob reached over and grab the wooden sword once again. There was little point in complaining, for three hours a day, usually at high noon, Trion dragged him out for sword training.

His days were fairly rigid, breakfast with his mother and younger sister, Lia, followed by two hours of physical training, because "if the body is ill-prepared, the whole system crumbles" as Trion loved to drone on about. Afterwards he and Trion ate a light lunch, where they would then begin with the even more dreaded sword training. The end of his days were his favorite, book and etiquette study, courtesy of his mother Queen Tia. She insisted that a proper king must not only be capable of protecting himself on the battlefield, but must also be capable of navigating the intricacies of court, as well as capable of managing a kingdom, or the strategies of war.

As Jacob regained his footing and squared up again the giant hulk of a man that was Trion, he lunged towards his, feinting his sword towards Trion's face before sweeping low to clap him on the knee. Despite this maneuver, Trion still deftly blocked the low blow before swinging his blade upwards and catching Jacob on the chin.

As Jacob felt the blood leaking from his mouth he heard a loud and deep voice call out "Trion!"

"Your Majesty!" Immediately Trion dropped to one knee with his wooden sword laid out before him, one hand on the propped up knee.

"Rise, you know I can care less about etiquette when no one is about. How goes Jacob's training?"

"Your Majesty, he is getting better by the day, although he is still sloppy at times, given a few years he may be able to even land a blow on me."

"Hmm, Jacob face me." King Olar ordered.

"Yes, father." Jacob turned to face the king, sword facing downwards, hands clasped on the pommel of the sword, left over right as military tradition required. He looked up at his father, athletically built, but not overbearing, he possessed an authoritative presence, especially on those who were weak.

"Tell me, what did you do wrong just now."

"After I feinted, I swung my sword out wide, thus leaving my body open for a counter attack." Jacob replied.

"Is that all?"

"... I believe so, yes."

"When you swung wide, you increased the amount of time Swordmaster Trion had to counter, while you were not only wide open, you had little chance to counter should he counter attack, futhermore, you allowed his blade to get inside your own." King Olar instructed. "This is why my son stands before me now bleeding from his mouth, instead of Trion clutching his gut."

"I understand father, I shall do better next time."

"Trion, wrap up his sword training today, we are entertaining guests tonight, both you and Jacob need to prepare, and I'd rather my son not be beaten black and blue this time. Tia's orders I'm afraid."

"Hehe, yes Your Majesty, I will ensure that he is presentable this time around, can't have the King getting into trouble at another banquet like last time." Trion chuckled as he playfully poked at his liege.

"Oh no, this time I will make sure she knows that I gave explicit orders. It won't be me she is fired up at, but you." Olar retorted with a sly smile.

Trion just shuddered, last time King Olar had to spend over half of the banquet with a black eye and a busted lip. Everyone had to spend the whole night pretending he looked fine, while wondering who was to be feared more, the King, or the woman who had the King in check?

"Hmm, seems like you understand. Very well, I have matters to attend to prior to tonight. Jacob, be on your best tonight, your cousins will be here as well, I do not want to hear, nor see, any scuffles that involve the future king. Understand?"

"Yes, father. I will not disappoint you or mother."

Jacob watched as his father turned and disappeared from the training grounds. 'What about those spoiled brats? They do whatever they want yet no one ever corrects their behavior. Why me? Because I am the future king? What of them, two of them are supposed to be future dukes, and they are both four years older than I am. Just because I am only 10 this spring they think I am weak enough to pick on. One day I will show them that I am only weak now because I am young, but that won't always be the case. Just wait, one day it will be you two who grovel on the ground before me.'