The blunted training sword made no sound as Xander swung, but the impact of the blade slamming into the training dummy's armor could be heard throughout the entire fortress. The construction of training dummies was standardized for the Nohrian army, usually covered in boiled leather, but Xander's personal dummies wore full standard issue kit for knights: plate over a gambeson over a padded shirt, a helm, sometimes even a shield. There was no shield this morning, Leo noted, which meant that Xander was in a good mood. It would be hard for anyone but his siblings to tell, but he was relaxed.

Leo turned another page in Brynhildr, but it was mostly for appearances: translating the text as he went was difficult enough that he had to be in a quiet place to do it. Maybe it was funny that he carried Brynhildr with him always and was rarely seen doing anything but reading it, but he saw Siegfried hanging from Xander's hip and the difference in how they treated their sacred weapons made his guts clench. Only he could read Brynhildr. The translations of its text had never been written down, left to be deciphered anew by every person who had ever carried it, but in theory any sufficiently powerful and capable mage could have carried it; Siegfried was different. Xander had let him try to draw the blade once, a few years ago. The sword had clung to its scabbard with such force that Leo could not budge it, could not make it move even with his magic, and in the end had pulled his shoulder in the attempt. More, it had been heavy, so heavy that Xander had had to hold it up for him to try to draw it, so heavy that he thought there was some enchantment that allowed Xander to wield it at all.

The scabbard for the magic sword bounced off of Xander's thigh as he stepped forward and swung, and Leo closed his eyes and listened; past the sound of the dummy's armor ringing like a bell there was a heavier sound, a brick being swung against a shield. In a few more impacts Xander's armor would begin to warp and by nightfall would require extensive repairs. That was the truth of it: Siegfried was no lighter for Xander than it had been for Leo. His elder brother was simply strong enough to carry it.

"That is a terrible racket you're making," Leo said. "I'm finding it hard to concentrate."

"It is very loud," Xander said, bringing his practice sword up into the dummy's armpit and then drawing it out in a rising slash. The impact was softer, most of the force absorbed in the gambeson, but as Xander drew the blade away Leo saw that its blunted edge had still torn into the protective cloth. If this had been real combat, Xander's opponent would be bleeding to death. "I do not notice it unless someone says something, I suppose. In my head I am on the battlefield, and the din around me is like thunderbolts."

"Sounds like a good argument to use something besides sharpened sticks," Leo said, and turned a page. Leo had seen battle, had seen Xander fight, and could hear the sound as well as his brother did if he tried. He did not like to try.

"That is what I rely on you for, little brother." The crown prince exhaled, turning away from the dummy and facing Leo. "Would you care to spar? If your enemies close with you, you will be glad you kept your sword arm conditioned."

"If my enemies close with me then I have already failed spectacularly," Leo said, "both as a tactician and as a mage." He closed Brynhildr, gently, mindful of the book's age. "Besides, you have other concerns, don't you? It wouldn't do for you to wear yourself out before your actual training session."

"Perhaps not," Xander said, but his look was appraising, measuring. "Still, I think that it would benefit us both for-" He stopped, and both of them looked as a soldier ascended the steps to the top of the battlement.

Leo's attention immediately went back to his book. He did not have to wait to see the soldier's stride carry him over to Xander; if any message was being carried at this time of day, it would be for the heir.

"Prince Xander," the soldier said, saluting, "I hope that I am not interrupting."

"Of course not, sergeant. What is it?"

"My lord, I carry a message from His Grace, King Garon." Leo looked up, trying to look calm and counter to the tension he felt. The soldier probably did not notice anything different about Xander, but Leo could see that same tension in his older brother's posture.

"Speak."

"His Grace wishes that you be informed that the time has come for the Lady Corrin to leave the fortress." What? Leo set his book at his belt, crossing his arms, watching the exchange. "In one month's time, he wishes her to be brought before him, to be received as his daughter and given privileges and duties befitting her position."

"That is not all," Xander said, voicing Leo's thoughts for him.

"No, my lord. King Garon also commands that, ah," he stopped, coughed into his fist, nearly wilted. Soldiers sometimes did this in front of Xander. "King Garon has decreed that in order to be received as his daughter, Lady Corrin must prove her strength as a warrior of Nohr. Before one month has passed, she is to best you in a contest of arms. If she cannot do so, then she may not leave the tower."

The wind was howling, and the sky was dark. The soldier's face was pale now, as pale as a man dying. Xander's eyes were closed, his forehead creased in a scowl that he did not let touch his mouth.

Their father asked the impossible. Xander was the most skillful and strongest swordsman in the kingdom; it was not clear if Garon himself would be able to best him in single combat. As well demand that Corrin leap from the tower and fly to the capital.

"Sergeant," Leo said, "I think perhaps you—"

Xander turned back to the training dummy, gripping his practice sword in both hands. The leather of his gauntlets creaked with the tightness of his grip, and the wind howled anew as he raised the sword above his head. His eyes were still closed.

Then they were open and the blade came down atop the dummy's helmet, and there was a crash so loud it made the sergeant jump backward.

Xander released his grip, and the blade stayed in place, buried halfway down the dummy's breastplate. The helmet had been crushed inward, borne down into the dummy's chest. Splinters of wood and straw jutted out of the gaps left in the armor. If he had been using a sharpened sword, Xander would have probably cleaved the thing in half down to its base. Leo imagined what such a blow would do to a person and shoved the thought from his mind, unable to wrestle with it.

"Have someone clean this up," Xander said. "Then bring me another training sword, and fetch my sister. She is late for her lessons."

The sergeant saluted and left, nearly fleeing, and Leo waited in silence as Xander stared at the work of his hands.

Corrin hit the ground at a roll, scrambling back to her feet and trying to preserve her momentum.

"Again!" Xander said, standing with his guard completely open. "Come at me again. Mind my blade, but do not be afraid of it; fear make weaknesses in your defense, makes you easy to anticipate. Again!"

Corrin wiped at her mouth, watching her eldest brother carefully, and nodded. Leo would never deny her her determination, or that she had a propensity for the sword. She charged Xander at a run, blade held at her side, her bare feet gripping the stone of the battlement more surely than leather boots might have. Xander believed she had potential, and Leo thought he was right: she leaped in to attack with a disarming grace and almost blinding speed, looking almost like a dancer or wraith rather than a more traditional soldier.

But the grace of her footwork and the speed of her arm were all she had; she got within range of Xander and he raised his sword and she flinched from his feint, parrying an attack that wasn't there, and then he struck her in the stomach with the flat of his blade. Leo winced at her gasp for breath, but from her lowered position she thrust at Xander. In answer Xander turned his torso, letting her blade's momentum carry it, and then he slapped it from her hand with his gauntlet. The sword clattered as it hit the cobblestones, skidding away from the both of them.

She lunged after it without needing to be told, grasping it in both hands and turning to face her eldest brother again. She feinted, but Xander ignored it completely and struck her across the right thigh, just above the knee. The impact to her armor froze her leg in place, and then he placed his hand on her chest and shoved, sending her sprawling.

"That cannot be all, Little Princess!" Xander held out his sword, pointing it at her. "Are you exhausted already?"

Leo thought he might step in; he had seen their training sessions before, but this one felt different, somehow. The gulf between Xander and Corrin was too large. He was wearing his own sword, a reminder that he could wave about a sharpened stick as well as anyone. That would do then, then, he could fight Corrin in Xander's place, and then—

And then Corrin raised her head.

"I'm all right," she said. She pushed herself up into a kneeling position, using her sword as a crutch to push herself back to her feet. She swayed in the wind before lifting her sword in both hands. It would take no effort to knock her down again, and she would not rise. Leo would be too much for her to face right now, no matter how much she held back. He looked to his elder brother, whose brow was furrowed.

And then the crease smoothed out, and Xander smiled. "No. No, I think you are done for the day."

"Big brother! I can keep going, I-oh." Xander reached out and took the sword from her hands. Corrin finally let her guard drop, sighing and wincing and not sure where to try to soothe her new bruises. "This wasn't a very good session, was it?"

"On the contrary: you are improving every day, and we can see it even if you cannot." Xander looked over at him, and that expectation was plain enough to make Leo's hackles rise. "Isn't that so, Leo?"

"It is," Leo said, because it was true. She wasn't improving fast enough, but she was improving. "You're lucky to have the tutor you do."

Corrin didn't look so sure, but she nodded. "I know I'm fortunate. Thank you for teaching me, Xander. I appreciate that you spend so much time helping me... though I doubt I'll ever be able to give you a real challenge."

Xander tousled her hair, as he had done when she was much younger, and she tried to get out from under his hand as she always had, and Xander laughed. "Don't worry about that, Little Princess. You'll improve at your own pace, and all will be well. Go and let Jakob and Flora tend to your armor, and Felicia to your bruises. Leo and I will be joining you for breakfast."

He lifted his hand and she stepped back, furiously straightening her hair with her fingers. In spite of how badly she had just been thrashed, and how she had started her day that way, and that she had been slamming up against the impenetrable wall of her eldest brother's swordsmanship, she looked happy. Something in that look made Leo's heart twinge. "Yeah, sure thing. Don't be too long, OK? Jakob gets antsy if we let his meals get cold."

"Of course," Xander said. He watched her as she turned and left, and the smile didn't leave his face until he was sure she wouldn't turn and look at him. Then she was gone down the steps of the tower, and Xander and Leo were alone again.

Leo sighed out through his nose. One day, when Xander was king, Leo would be his adviser; this was understood between them without ever having actually been said. Xander, as the Crown Prince, carried a weight that Leo did not have the perspective to understand, but he understood that he wanted to help his brother shoulder the burden. That created its own burden, the burden of honesty and truth and being willing to say things that the Crown Prince, the future king, might not want to hear. That burden was heavy on him now, but still he spoke.

"She'll never make it if you take it so easy on her."

Xander's gaze was like a physical blow that struck Leo in the chest, setting stones upon his shoulders. Xander was not a cruel man, was in truth a purveyor of secret kidnesses, but he had the potential for great and terrible action in every moment and to meet his eyes was to know the fullness of that potential, the breadth and depth of that power. No one in the army or the nobility could stand long under his scrutiny. Camilla was different from everyone else, in that regard; she had the same potentials, could meet Xander as an equal, could weather the storm of that gaze like a great tree standing in the wind.

Leo was not Camilla, and he looked away, unable to bear the weight of his brother's eyes.

"Don't be so terse, big brother," he said, keeping his tone carefully light. "I'm not saying you should wield Siegfried and make her fight for her life in every moment. The fact remains, though, that your method of training her is too gentle: you spar with her, but you do not train her as you should. If you want her to best you, she has to be as strong as you. She should be exercising with you, eating with you, learning theory with you. Letting her fight you over and over looks good, and she feels like she's getting the work done, but you are giving her too much slack, too much freedom, if she is to meet Father's standards." He raised his eyes, then, and met his brother's gaze, and resolved not to look away even if the effort of it broke him. "Do you see?"

Xander said nothing for a time. Then:

"You do not believe she can do it?"

"I do not know if she can do it or not. She's stronger now than you were before you resolved to be worthy of the sword you carry. But I know she cannot do it if you let her continue as you have up to now. She has to be stronger than you, Xander."

"No," Xander said, and he spoke quietly, as if trying to make sure they were not overheard, alone as they were. "No, she does not. Father only commanded that she best me in a contest of arms. He never said she had to be my better."

For a moment Leo didn't understand, and then realization hit him and he laughed, open and long and loud.

"You, ha, I never took you for someone so shrewd! Ah," he said, wiping at one of his eyes, "Corrin will never know how lucky she is to have you, you know? Never."

"You will not speak of this to her, I trust." His eyes had lost their intensity, his gaze its weight. It was not a question: he was saying this to let Leo know he did trust him.

"Of course," Leo said, and stretched and turned and walked away from his brother. "Not a word. Who better to be your confidant?" He took the first steps down the staircase leading into the tower. "Don't be up here too long. You heard her: Jakob gets antsy if we don't eat our eggs."

Xander said nothing in reply, but that was enough, and Leo walked down the long steps into the tower, thinking of Corrin and their brother and the days to come.