Chained Hearts: From Slavery to Sovereignty
Chapter 128: Go Easy on Me, Leader Hayes

Chapter 128: Chapter 128: Go Easy on Me, Leader Hayes

Orion froze. And then, like a switch flipping, his whole body relaxed. His face lit up like a child who just got spared from a beating.

He didn’t even wait for Cassian to repeat the order. He scrambled to his feet, wincing slightly, and practically skipped away from the center of the field to make room.

As he passed by Alistair, he gave the man a wide, smug grin and snorted. "Enjoy yourself, Sir Alistair. You’re already ugly. A few bruises won’t change much."

Alistair blinked, caught off guard. It did not even take seconds before his grin faltered, even though he was best at sparring, but still not compared to Cassian, and it seemed today that Cassian was deliberately beating them to take out his frustration.

He wanted to protest, but Cassian was already standing there with that unreadable expression. Refusing wasn’t an option. Not unless he wanted hard bread for the rest of the month.

So, with a long, dramatic sigh and a glare at Orion, Alistair slowly walked to the center like a man headed to his execution.

Cassian tilted his head. "What? You’re walking so slow. I thought you had plenty of energy this morning."

Orion snorted again from the sidelines, a little louder this time.

Alistair didn’t answer. He just muttered under his breath and raised his fists—praying that maybe, just maybe, Cassian would go easier on him.

He was very wrong.

After Alistair was done—stumbling off the field with bruised pride and an aching jaw—Cassian didn’t let anyone rest. One by one, he called out names. Each knight had to spar with him. No breaks, no excuses, and no mercy.

By the end of it, nearly an hour had passed, and the training ground looked like a battlefield. The knights were drenched in sweat, limbs aching, clothes dusty and rumpled. Every single one of them had received a good beating, and some might have even reconsidered their life choices.

Then finally, Cassian lowered his stance and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"You have one hour," he said, voice firm but calm. "Get ready. We depart for the mission after that."

For a moment, there was stunned silence.

Then all the knights lit up like someone had just announced free ale for a year.

"Yes, sir!"

"Understood!"

"We’ll be ready!"

They scrambled like rats fleeing a storm, most of them mumbling about preparing their gear—though in truth, they just wanted to get away before Cassian decided training wasn’t over.

More than a few looked like they were ready to kiss the ground in gratitude. To them, today’s session had felt less like training and more like being turned into Cassian’s personal punching bags.

But just as they were about to rush off, a new voice rang out across the field.

"Leader Hayes really does have impressive stamina... to beat so many knights in one go."

The words were light, but carried across the grounds easily. The knights froze mid-step.

"I suddenly feel like sparring too," the voice continued. "I wonder where my strength lies compared to Leader Hayes."

Cassian’s shoulders tensed instantly.

He turned his head slowly—already knowing who it was.

The City Lord.

Standing at the edge of the field, his usual faint smile on his lips. He looked relaxed, almost amused, like he wasn’t casually throwing a verbal gauntlet into Cassian’s face.

Cassian’s jaw clenched. He really didn’t want to deal with this man.

Not now. Not ever.

But before he could speak, the knights made things worse.

"Woo! A spar with the City Lord?"

"I’d pay to see this!"

"Come on, Leader Hayes! Don’t back down now!"

Someone actually hooted. Someone else clapped. Cassian wanted to kill them all.

He knew what this meant. If he refused, it would look like he was scared. That he was backing down from a nobleman, from a civilian. His authority would crack. And in the eyes of soldiers and knights, a leader couldn’t afford cracks.

Respect came with strength. Fear and image.

So he gritted his teeth and turned fully to face Dorian.

"Fine," he said, voice sharp. "But the City Lord should think carefully. I won’t go easy just because you’re noble-born."

His eyes narrowed. "And in my experience... nobles are weak."

But he forgot one thing.

Earlier in the morning, he hadn’t been able to escape from this same man’s grasp.

Dorian’s smile widened just slightly, his tone light as he answered, "Then I’ll have to ask Leader Hayes to be gentle with me."

Cassian stared.

His eye twitched.

Those words—those damn words—felt way too layered. It sounded polite, yes, but to his ears it dripped with double meaning. He grit his teeth harder, wondering what sin he had committed in his past life to deserve this.

Then Dorian moved.

He undid his noble outer robe, folding it neatly and handing it to a nearby servant. Underneath, he wore a simple white tunic—clean, well-fitted, and unfortunately tight around his arms and shoulders.

The thin fabric clung to his body, highlighting the firm biceps and the lean, powerful build beneath. His trousers stretched over strong, muscular legs that made him look more like a trained knight than some pampered noble.

And then—Whistle.

A low whistle rang from the back with a hooting of cheer.

Cassian’s head snapped toward the group. His eyes met with the knights that were trying to look innocent and give him sweet smiles, like they had nothing to do.

He saw Orion chewing his lip, looking at the sky. Alistair was fake-coughing into his sleeve. One of the younger knights was pretending to retie his boot—but Cassian saw that smirk before he looked away.

He would find out who it was. And when he did... the gods wouldn’t save them.

Cassian slowly turned his gaze back toward the City Lord.

But that was a mistake.

His eyes landed on the man’s exposed forearms, the smooth stretch of muscle under the tunic, the calm expression that somehow only made him more infuriating to look at.

Cassian stiffened.

Why... why did he suddenly feel hot? He didn’t like this. Not at all.

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