Beloved lad...

The young Prince, as he grew older, showed little of the expected royal behavior. While other young noblemen were diligently studying history, politics and etiquette, he much preferred more… physical pursuits.

Captain Blackburn, the grizzled veteran knight tasked with the lad's martial training, couldn't help but chuckle as he watched the scrawny boy struggling to lift a practice sword. "You've got spirit, that's for sure! But spirit alone won't win you any battles, boy. You need to put in the work."

The Prince's face scrunched up in concentration as he hefted the wooden weapon. It felt so heavy in comparison to his small frame. With a determined grunt, he finally managed to raise it to a guard position. "Like this then?"

"Better. But you're holding it like a shield, not a sword." Captain Blackburn stepped forward and adjusted the boy's grip. "Feel how it's more balanced now? The key is to let the weapon become an extension of your arm."

The young Prince nodded, absorbing the lesson. He had to admit, he was starting to enjoy the feeling of holding a blade, even if it was just a dull training sword. There was something empowering about it. Like he could take on the world.

And when he wasn't training, he was sneaking away to the castle kitchens, pocketing sweet rolls and pies whenever he could. Cook would yell at him, waving a wooden spoon, but the old man couldn't help but smile when he saw the boy's bright eyes and mischievous grin.

The King and Queen were both concerned by their son's lack of interest in more 'Noble pursuits'. But they couldn't help but be impressed by his dedication and natural talent when it came to the more physical arts of horsemanship and weaponry.

Perhaps, they mused, their boy had a different path in life. One that didn't involve a crown or a throne room, but a battlefield and the clash of swords. He was a prince, certainly… but not the type they had expected. And as he continued to grow into a young man, it became more and more clear that he was a prince in his own right - stubborn, strong and with a will of iron.

The only time the young Prince showed any real interest in 'Scholarly' pursuits was when he visited the smithy, watching the blacksmiths work with metal. It fascinated him, the process. The way the hot iron could be hammered and shaped into all manner of useful and beautiful objects.

He peppered the smiths with questions, much to their surprise. They weren't used to a young lordling showing such an interest in their trade. But the Prince was insatiable, wanting to learn about the different types of metal, the way they were mined and refined.

He had a natural aptitude for understanding the principles of metallurgy and forge-craft. The smiths took to calling him 'The little fire coal' a title he quite liked.

The young prince was a strange one, for sure. With his love of fighting, his sweet tooth, and his unexpected passion for the forge. But he was theirs, the royal couple's beloved firstborn son. And they couldn't help but be proud of him, even if he was marching to the beat of a different drum.