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“So?”

“If we’re going to help Korinnae, what can the two of you do together?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“What are your hobbies?”

He stared at her. “My what?”

“Your hobbies.”

“I don’t have hobbies.”

She blinked. “You don’t have any?”

“I train.”

“That isn’t a hobby.”

“I patrol.”

“Also not a hobby.”

“I spar.”

She gave him a flat look. “You’re proving my point.”

“I have responsibilities.” He folded his arms.

“And outside those?”

Asterion searched his mind, only to come up empty. His days had always followed the same rhythm: training, guard duty, clan business, then back to training again. There had never been room for hobbies or leisurely pursuits; every hour had been spent preparing himself to protect his family and his people. After a long pause, one idea finally surfaced.

“I could teach her.”

Ria brightened. “What?”

“Our traditional combat forms.”

She waited for him to elaborate.

“The labrys.”

He gestured as though holding the sacred double-axe in his hands.

“Our ancestors developed ceremonial combat techniques around it centuries ago. Every movement has meaning. The footwork is rhythmic, heavy strikes, ritual steps, flowing transitions.” A hint of pride entered his voice. “It’s one of the oldest traditions we still practice.”

Ria listened with genuine interest. “That actually sounds beautiful.”

“It is.”

“I bet you could make it fun for her.”

He frowned. “Fun?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s tradition.”