The chill wind swept through the stone corridors of the northern fortress, carrying the scent of snow. Xander, the stoic prince, adjusted his sword as he approached the summoning chambers. He had been summoned by Anon, and despite pressing kingdom matters, duty called. His armor clinked softly with each step. Approaching the chamber, he composed himself, understanding the importance of maintaining a regal demeanor. He took a deep breath and knocked. He pushed open the doors, revealing the dimly lit room where Anon awaited. Xander felt a pang in his chest at the sight. He greeted Anon, maintaining a steady cadence and offering a warm gaze. “Shall we dedicate our focus to refining your skills once more today?” he asked, his tone neutral.