Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 281: The Question of Strength

Chapter 280: The Question of Strength

Benedict tilted his head, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. The question had come so unexpectedly that it took him a moment to fully process what Julian had asked. He had been expecting something else entirely.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

Julian adjusted his spectacles, the gesture slow, as though he were buying himself time to form the right words.

"I mean exactly what I asked," he said. "How does one become physically stronger?"

The room fell silent for a moment. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Outside, the sounds of the palace drifted faintly through the thick walls—distant footsteps, muffled voices, the ever-present hum of a place that never truly slept.

Alistair broke the quiet with a soft chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He turned to Benedict.

"Do you have any liquor present, my lord?" he asked. "I think we are going to need it for this conversation."

Benedict nodded and gestured toward his valet, who moved to a sideboard and retrieved a decanter of amber liquid along with several glasses. He poured a measure for Alistair, then glanced at the others.

Lucian raised a hand.

"One for me as well," he said.

The valet poured and distributed the glasses. For a moment, no one spoke. They simply sat with their drinks, the silence stretching between them as though each man were waiting for someone else to break it.

Alistair took a sip, then set his glass down.

"Repeat what you just said," he said to Julian. "I want to be certain I heard you correctly."

Julian sighed. The sound was heavy with irritation, and he was already regretting the conversation he had started but was too far into it to turn back now.

"How," he said slowly, "does one become physically stronger?"

Lucian leaned forward slightly, his blue eyes narrowing with curiosity. He studied Julian as though he were examining a particularly interesting specimen.

"What brought this on?" he asked. "From my knowledge, you have never shown any interest in physical training before. You have always preferred your books, your studies, your research. What has changed?"

Julian was quiet.

He could not tell them the truth. He could not admit that Princess Lyria had been watching Benedict train in the courtyard, that her gaze had lingered on the Earl’s form, that something in her expression had shifted when she watched him move. He could not confess that he had noticed the way her cheeks had reddened, the way she had looked away quickly, the way she had seemed flustered.

It was obvious she appreciated the Earl’s body, and that was because the Earl was physically stronger.

If he admitted that, he would never hear the end of it.

He would be mocked relentlessly.

So he said nothing.

Alistair chuckled, a knowing grin spreading across his face. He leaned back in his chair, swirling the liquid in his glass.

"Perhaps," he said, his voice light and teasing, "you have a woman you wish to impress?"

Julian frowned.

"I am not—"

"Because from what I know of you," Alistair continued, "you would rather be buried in a book than learn to fight. You have never shown any interest in becoming physically stronger before. You have always been content with your intellect, your knowledge, your studies. So, like Lucian said, what has changed?"

Julian’s jaw tightened.

"I can be interested in becoming physically stronger," he said. "It is not an unreasonable desire. People change. Interests evolve."

The three men exchanged glances.

Then, as though by some unspoken agreement, they all shook their heads.

Lucian sighed, taking a long sip of his drink.

"I hate to admit it," he said, "but I am with Alistair on this. This is not like you. It is completely out of character."

Julian rolled his eyes, a gesture that was entirely unlike him.

He turned to Benedict.

"Why did you call them?" he asked. "I came to you for advice, not to have the entire group assembled. I trusted you to keep this between us."

Benedict shrugged, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the gesture.

"I thought it was an emergency," he said. "The way you came to me, the urgency in your voice—I assumed something serious had happened. You were so agitated, so unlike yourself, and I am not good at resolving issues on my own, so I called for help."

He paused, a sheepish expression crossing his face.

"If I had known it was something like this, I would have called a priestess to exorcise you."

Alistair burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking with mirth. He set his glass down and pressed a hand to his chest as though he needed to steady himself.

Julian ignored him.

"Is it so strange," he asked, "that I wish to improve myself? That I wish to become more than what I am?"

They all nodded.

"Yes," they said in unison.

Julian sighed again, the sound heavier than before.

"Can you just teach me?" he asked.

The room fell quiet once more.

Alistair studied him, his playful expression giving way to something more thoughtful. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Is this genuine?" he asked. "Or do you simply want a body like Benedict’s?"

Julian coughed, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"That is not—" he began.

Alistair shouted, his voice rising with disbelief.

"Really?"

Julian’s voice dropped to barely a whisper.

"That is not it," he said.

No one believed him.

Lucian sighed and shook his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"I thought you were better than the others," he muttered.

Alistair burst into another fit of laughter, his hand pressed to his stomach as he struggled to contain himself. He leaned back in his chair, wiping a tear from his eye.

Benedict walked over to Julian and placed a hand on his shoulder, his expression earnest and sincere.

"I will teach you," he said. "I will help you build a body like mine. It will take time, but I am patient."

Alistair’s laughter intensified, his eyes watering from the effort.

Lucian’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile threatening to break through his composure. He stood, ready to leave, but then paused.

"Who is the woman?" he asked. "The one you are trying to impress?"

Julian’s expression hardened.

"That is none of your business," he said.

Alistair grinned, his laughter finally subsiding.

"There is no need to hide it," he said. "We would support you. Whoever she is, we would stand by you."

Julian did not answer.

Benedict tilted his head, his brow furrowing in thought.

"Is she a maid?" he asked.

Before Julian could reply, Lucian spoke again, his voice quiet, a frown on his face.

"It is a princess, is it not?"