Darian walked down the stone path toward the training grounds, the sound of steel striking wood growing louder and louder with every step taken. As he walked, Min-jun's mind began to think about sword saintess Floraine Blayland.
In Crimson Heart's Folly, Floraine was a key supporting character and the best friend of the female lead, Elain Blane. Unlike her father, Floraine's hatred for Darian was intensely personal. Min-jun felt a phantom shiver of disgust as the original Darian's memories surfaced. The "incident" the bastard was trying to force himself on her. You absolute trash piece of shit, Min-jun cursed internally, directing. You tried to have your way with the future Sword Saintess? How much luck did you have to survive this long? If this were a dark fantasy instead of a romance, you would have been a headless corpse three chapters ago. He reached the entrance of the open-air training hall.
Floraine Blayland was in the center of the ring, her dark hair tied back with a ponytail. She was moving with terrifying precision, striking a wooden dummy with a practice sword.
Even in the original novel, she was a "Training freak," whose entire personality revolved around becoming stronger and stronger. She paused mid-swing after seeing Darian at the entrance. She turned, her gaze to Darian; unlike her father's, it lacked emotion; it was cold and stoic.
It was the look one gave to a cockroach that had come back into the room after being utterly crushed into a puddle, yet she didn't storm over or scream. She simply put her sword away and signaled to a nearby trainer.
"Take him to the gazebo," she ordered, with her cold tone. "I will finish my set."
She turned her back on the Prince of the Empire and resumed her training.
The trainer didn't want to be involved, yet he approached Darian, "Y-Your Highness. Please, come with me. The lady will arrive after her drill."
Darian followed the man to a pristine white gazebo situated in the center of a well-maintained garden.
Please be seated here. Your Highness," he continues before Darrian gets a chance to open his mouth. "The Lady will arrive... shortly.
Darian sat on the seat. And he waited. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Min-jun realized, leaning back and crossing his legs. She's making me wait purposely, ain't fine, I will play along. She wants to see if the 'Stupid Prince' will lose his patience and throw a tantrum like he always does.
If it were real, Darian would start barking at the workers and try to assault someone again. Even Min-jun, too hated waiting, but he wasn't an idiot, unlike Darian of the past.
He glanced at the maid standing nearby, who was watching him with distaste. Min Jun smirked a little and started to talk loudly, "It seems the Lady is taking her time. I guess she has a problem with herself that requires such and taking long time."
The maid stiffened her hand behind her back with such spiteful insult in their eye, the prince is a low parasite who came here to srew up more problems, but before they could react, footsteps crunched on the gravel. Floraine walked into the gazebo. She had changed into a simple, elegant day dress, yet she didn't have a face of noble beauty.
"Greetings. Your Highness," she greeted him with a cold bow.
"Oh, greetings, Lady Floraine," Darian replied.
"It seems like I took your valuable time. It was a clear insult, yet he played along.
"No, it's fine, the maids prepared excellent tea and service, so I wasn't bored either," she sat down on the opposite side with an elegant posture. "Well then," she continued, her eyes focused on Darian. What is the reason for this visit?"
A maid stepped forward and poured tea into her delicate porcelain cups. Floraine lifted hers and took a sip, completely ignoring Darian's presence. She was waiting for what Darian had to say this time. Min-jun felt a surge of irritation. He took a sip of tea, he set his own cup down started to talk.
"I came to apologize for my mistake, Darian stated clearly with determination on his face, yet doesn't know what the outcome will be.
Floraine paused, then took the cup hovering near her lips and slowly sipped, elegantly placing it back down on the table, the silence stretching. Darian's apology did not convince Florina; she took her time and finally answered with her cold face.
"So," she speaks with full skepticism about Darian's so-called apology. "You think I will buy this? So-called The Trash Prince suddenly growing a conscience? Is this a joke or something?"
"No, it's not. I know my past actions can't be solved with words only." Darian replied, confidently looking at her face. "But I am sincere with my apology."
"Sincere?" She laughed, a harsh, humorless sound, but Min Jun knew deep down she must have been regret for her what happened to her. She stood up abruptly, which shook the table slightly. "Well, if you truly are sincere, come with me, Darian".
She walked out of the gazebo to the open grassy field. Darian followed, getting confused about what was happening. He asks her. "Where is this place, Lady? And why here?"
"A place where no one is watching," she said, turning to face him. Her facial expression was cold; it looked serious and enraged. She cracked her fist. "Since there are no guards to save you, fight me. Darian. Prove your sincerity with pain." Darian blinked. A brawl? Here? Now...
Before he could answer, her fist touched his cheeks, knocking him to the ground. Where did your confidence go, you arrogant bastard? Fight me !.
Min Jun reacted on had the theoretical knowledge of boxing from reading too many novels about brawl and street fights, and yet he couldn't even dodge her attack,
Ah fuck that hurt like crazy. Darian lunged forward again to get kicked in his chest by her. His body, that of a prodigal bastard, soft, untrained, and sluggish, couldn't withstand the impact of her kick.
He got up again this time ducking a jab, but Floraine easily blocked it with her hands and threw you to the ground. Gritting his teeth, he tried to stand she kicked his abdomen. The impact reached up to his gut.
He again rushed she knocked him with an uppercut. Darian scrambled up and started to spit blood from his mouth.
Darian thought to himself he could have used any of those cheap sand tricks again, or He could have kicked dirt in her eyes, or even grabbed her hair to win, like the time he beat the knight during the duel, or at least hit her back. But this wasn't a duel for honor or dominance. It was a penance for his disgraceful behaviour against a woman.
If I fight dirty now, I prove her right, Min-jun thought, his vision swimming slightly. I have to take this. He charged again and again and again.
For two minutes, it was a massacre. He couldn't land a single hit. Floraine was a prodigy, the future Sword Saintess, one of the strongest characters in the novel. Even young, she was beyond the level of Darian, for he was a punching bag, the reminder of his disgrace. She hit him with precise, critical blows powerful enough to hurt, strong enough to leave bruises, but she avoided his vital spots. It was a beatdown fueled by disgust and anger. Yet Darian kept getting up, like an undead, even though his vision was about to fade.
Floraine's Attacks began to lose their strength. She watched him stumble toward her again. He is guarding anymore. His arms kept shaking body filled with bruises and blood. The "Trash Prince" usually cried at a papercut, a coward, a disgrace to royal blood, who usually ran away like a chicken. But he wasn't running anymore, nor throwing tantrums. He is taking a beating, and not once has he tried to cheat.
Her anger, white-hot and personal, began to cool into a dull confusion.
Finally, she stepped in, bypassed his weak defense, and delivered a solid palm strike to his chest. Darian flew back, hitting the ground hard, coughing blood. Darian wanted to get up again, but his body seemed to reach its limit.
Floraine stood over him, her. She looked down at his bruised face, her expression complicated sadness mixed with lingering disgust, but the pure hatred was gone. She talks loudly. "This is the last time, bastard. If you ever come in front of me with those lecherous eyes again, I will pluck them from your sockets myself."
Darian didn't understand what she was saying, but he knew that he had won against her. This wasn't about winning or losing; it was about Darian's resolve, and he won the bet. She turned and walked away, leaving him lying in the grass. Min-jun tried to push himself up, but his body was refusing to move. His vision was tunneling.
"Your Highness!" "MyLord!" With vague vision, Darian could see two people running towards him. It was Edgar, the stiff knight he met today at the gate, and his maid Reina, who both rushed toward Darian. They knelt beside him and lifted him by the shoulders.
Edgar looked shocked that the trash prince engaged in a brawl rather than running away, while Reina looked on the verge of tears. Min-jun felt a strange warmth on his chest as they supported his weight.
In the past, no one would have come for Darian, he thought hazily. They would have left him to rot in the grass.
"I'm fine," he muttered, before darkness took him. Overcome by the exhaustion of everything, Darian's consciousness faded.