For once
Rudura had absolutely no plans.
No sword drills.
No strategy lectures.
No examinations.
No Malavatas appearing from nowhere to insult his stance.
Just peace.
Which was exactly why something obviously had to go wrong.
Morning sunlight slipped through the palace windows while Rudura sat near the edge of his bed staring at absolutely nothing.
The winter air remained cold, but today felt calmer than usual.
"…Maybe I should actually rest today."
A dangerous idea.
A truly dangerous idea.
Still half-awake, he stretched lazily before grabbing a heavy coat and stepping outside his room.
The palace corridors were already active with servants moving around carrying trays and folded cloth.
A maid passing nearby bowed politely.
"Good morning, Young Master."
"Morning."
Rudura yawned midway through answering.
The maid blinked in surprise.
Apparently princes were not expected to look half-dead before breakfast.
Honestly, unrealistic standards.
Rudura headed toward the dining hall while rubbing sleep from his eyes.
The palace smelled warm this morning.
Fresh bread.
Tea.
Wood smoke.
Much better than training grounds.
When he entered the western dining hall, Queen Devi was already seated near the table speaking quietly with an attendant.
She looked up immediately.
"You're awake unusually late."
"…I'm trying something called rest."
Queen Devi smiled faintly.
"And how is that experiment going so far?"
"I only started five minutes ago."
A servant placed breakfast before him while Chandragupta entered the hall from another corridor carrying several scrolls under one arm.
The emperor sat down calmly.
"You look unproductive."
Rudura immediately frowned.
"I literally just woke up."
"Exactly."
"…You're both terrible at encouraging relaxation."
Queen Devi laughed softly into her tea.
Breakfast continued quietly afterward.
Mostly.
Until Chandragupta suddenly asked:
"So what are you doing today?"
Rudura froze.
"…Nothing."
The emperor looked suspicious immediately.
"Nothing?"
"Yes."
"You voluntarily chose inactivity?"
"…Why is everyone acting like that's impossible?"
"Because you usually train until your arms stop functioning."
Honestly fair.
Rudura stabbed a piece of bread dramatically.
"I'm resting today."
Chandragupta gave him a long look.
Then:
"…Good."
Rudura blinked.
That answer was unexpected.
Queen Devi smiled knowingly.
"See? Even your father agrees."
The emperor calmly unfolded one of his scrolls.
"Overtraining creates stupidity."
"…That sounds medically inaccurate."
"Still true."
After breakfast ended, Rudura wandered through the palace gardens without much purpose.
And honestly?
It felt strange.
Normally his schedule controlled everything:
training
lessons
reading
evaluations
But now?
Nothing.
The winter gardens looked quiet beneath pale sunlight. Bare tree branches shifted gently in the cold wind while thin frost clung to stone pathways.
Rudura shoved his hands into his coat pockets and walked slowly.
"…This is kind of boring."
Maybe resting was overrated.
Near one of the smaller garden courtyards, he spotted several younger palace servants trying to move a large wooden crate.
Poorly.
Very poorly.
"Lift together!"
"We ARE lifting together!"
"No, you're lifting emotionally!"
"What does that even mean?!"
Rudura stopped.
Watched silently.
The crate tilted dangerously sideways.
One servant panicked.
Another slipped slightly.
Rudura sighed.
"…You're all going to destroy your backs."
The servants nearly jumped after noticing him.
"Y-Your Highness!"
Rudura walked closer and looked at the crate.
"…What's even inside this thing?"
"Kitchen storage supplies."
"…Why does the kitchen need military-grade cargo?"
Nobody answered.
Probably because nobody knew.
Rudura grabbed one side of the crate.
"Move together on three."
The servants looked terrified.
"Y-You don't need to help"
"One."
"…Your Highness"
"Two."
"Oh no."
"Three."
Together, they lifted the crate properly this time and slowly carried it toward the storage corridor.
"…See?" Rudura muttered.
"Much easier when nobody panics."
One servant looked genuinely shocked.
"…You're stronger than expected."
Rudura looked offended instantly.
"I train every day."
"…Right."
That hesitation felt disrespectful somehow.
After helping move the crate, Rudura continued wandering through the palace.
Still bored.
Maybe even more bored somehow.
At one point he passed near an outer training court where several trainee soldiers practiced spear drills.
The moment they noticed him nearby
Their movements immediately became worse.
One missed a spin entirely.
Another almost hit himself.
Rudura stared.
"…Was everyone always this awkward?"
The trainees looked horrified.
One of them straightened immediately.
"W-We apologize, Your Highness."
"I didn't say you were bad."
Pause.
"…Okay maybe a little."
That somehow made them even more nervous.
Rudura sighed internally.
Why did people suddenly forget basic human behavior around royalty?
He watched quietly for another minute before finally walking into the training court himself.
"Your rear footing is unstable," he casually told one trainee.
The young soldier blinked.
"…Mine?"
"Yes, yours."
The trainee adjusted slightly.
Rudura immediately shook his head.
"No, not like that."
"…Then how?"
Rudura grabbed a nearby wooden spear.
"Move your shoulder first."
A quick demonstration followed.
Simple.
Clean.
Controlled.
The trainees stared silently.
"…Oh."
Rudura handed the spear back.
"You're forcing movement too early."
Another trainee looked confused.
"…How do you notice that so fast?"
Rudura shrugged.
"Malavatas complains about details constantly."
Honestly, years of suffering under that old man apparently produced results.
After another few minutes, Rudura left the court before anyone could turn the situation into formal training.
Because then his "rest day" would definitely be dead.
Unfortunately
The universe apparently hated peaceful plans.
As Rudura crossed one of the palace side corridors later that afternoon—
A familiar voice called out behind him.
"Rudura."
He froze immediately.
"…No."
Malavatas approached calmly.
"Interesting response."
"I'm resting today."
"I didn't ask."
"That's because you were about to ruin it anyway."
Malavatas ignored the accusation completely.
Typical.
"You corrected trainee spear forms earlier."
Rudura narrowed his eyes.
"…How do you know everything?"
"The palace isn't that large."
Honestly terrifying answer.
Malavatas folded his arms.
"Your corrections were acceptable."
"…Wow. Such overwhelming praise."
"You want applause for basic observation?"
"Yes."
"No."
Rudura groaned.
Then Malavatas unexpectedly asked:
"Why are you wandering aimlessly?"
"…I'm resting."
"That poorly?"
"…You are genuinely impossible to satisfy."
Malavatas looked toward the winter courtyard nearby.
"You treat stillness like wasted time."
Rudura opened his mouth.
Paused.
Closed it again.
Because annoyingly
That was actually true.
The old instructor continued calmly:
"Rest is part of discipline too."
"…You sound wiser when you're not insulting me."
"I'm still insulting you."
"…There it is."
Malavatas eventually walked away after that without another word.
Like always.
Rudura stood there for several seconds afterward.
Then muttered quietly:
"…Why does every conversation with him feel like a lesson disguised as emotional damage?"
No answer came.
Probably for the best.
By evening, the palace atmosphere softened into warm lanternlight and quiet corridor conversations.
Servants moved slower now.
Guards rotated patrols near the outer walls.
Dinner smells drifted through the halls.
Rudura eventually returned to his room feeling strangely lighter than expected.
The day had technically accomplished nothing important.
No major training.
No evaluations.
No progress toward some massive goal.
And yet
It hadn't been pointless.
He removed his coat and dropped onto the bed with a long exhale.
"…Maybe resting isn't completely useless."
Outside his window, winter wind brushed softly against the palace walls.
For once
No pressure waited for tomorrow.
And honestly?
That felt nice.