Remember: everything ROYAL BASTARD | Balthazar August Rothens says is made up.
The sound of clashing swords and men cheering filled the training grounds. Balthazar sword clashed hard against his sparring opponents sword again, forcing the soldier onto his ass. *'Sloppy, needs to work on his footwork'* Balthazar extended a hand to his fallen opposition. "Good spar, sloppy though. Keep at it." Balthazar stated, already turning away from the man.
Nodding thanks to the servant that handed him his shirt and a mug of water, he turned to the men, knights and soldiers that had gathered to watch their Crown Prince spar, their cheers still lingering.
"Return to training!" Balthazar commanded, the men moving swiftly at his command. 'Good' As the crowd thinned, Balthazar slipped his shirt on, his sword finding its place back in its sheaths before his eyes landed on a lingering member of the crowd.
"you," Balthazar greeted with a nod, his expression blank and almost disinterested, "afternoon. Did you come to watch? Or train yourself?"
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