Tybalt was still growing accustomed to his position as Commander.

The Royal Legion wasn't quite the Royal Guard. For the most part, it was men and women from the Royal Legion who one day aspired to be in the Royal Guard. To put it bluntly, the captain was taking note of the disparity between the quality and training of those whom he had been commanding for over a decade. In some of the regiments, there was little difference to be found. In a few others... Well, it was rather more noticeable. He could tolerate them perhaps not being quite up to the same level of technique and ability as the guard but not discipline. For that reason, Tybalt had been being rather ruthless when it came to getting the troops now under his command into shape.

They had the execution to prepare for and by the gods he was not going to allow that to turn into a debacle on his watch. 

As luck would have it, the captain had just finished chasing about 50 men and women into the courtyard to have them go over the basics again. He promised them that they would be doing it for a good few hours yet. The commander watched them slowly but surely, patiently. Correcting them when they did something wrong. 

It wouldn't be long before his eyes found @dresden and his companion. With a shake of the head, the man grumbled something under his breath. He instructed those who had been practicing to continue doing just that, whilst he dealt with these two. "Both of you-" The captain called out to them as he approached. "Tell me  right now just what the two of you think that you're doing here?"

Dresden and his fellow Legionnaire hadn't been working at their exercises for too long when they were interrupted. They each had one of the stones, weighing maybe fifty pounds give or take, held out in front of their chests and had been doing squats with them. Dresden lost count when he saw the man approaching, his mind going through a series of jumbled thoughts as he sat the stone down and stood up, clicking his heels together and moving his hands behind his back. He glanced over just to check that his fellow had done the same, and then turned his attention back to the man that had come to stand just in front of him.

"Commander Zane," they both greeted him. Tybalt Zane, commander of the Royal Legion, Marquis, and Uncle to one Scout Kane. Perhaps Dresden had gotten too comfortable as the rumors had died down. No one from Scout's family had confronted him about the rumors yet, only people from the Porter family, both of which had taken Dresden off guard and yet other than losing a supposed friend and having an awkward conversation with another Marchioness, not much else had happened. He'd thought he was in the clear, but perhaps he wasn't quite and that fact seemed to be known to the others in the courtyard, because he could feel their eyes even if they were still doing their exercises.

"We're just back from our shifts on city patrol, sir, and thought we'd get some exercises in before sunset," Dresden explained. He wasn't exactly sure what Tybalt wanted to hear, but the other Legionnaire seemed to feel like that explanation alone was not enough.

"We'd planned to spar next, but -- sorry Commander, are we in the way of your exercises?" He looked toward the group of other men and women who had specifically come out at Tybalt's orders. "We can move to the other side of the courtyard if so," Dan Wilbur explained, clearly as confused about the aggressiveness of the Commanders approach as Dresden was. Dresden didn't add anything after that, but he was mentally preparing for Zane to excuse Wilbur and then threaten him, or something along those lines.

News did indeed travel quickly within the kingdom, especially when one had their ear to the ground like Tybalt Zane. It had been a very timid guardsman (well, woman) who had brought the matter to his attention. They'd wisely approached it from the point of view of someone spreading rumors, rather than treating it as something that had actually happened. Which was good because in the Commander's mind it hadn't happened, even if it had. He would see to it that within the next few weeks, the quite mutterings would silent and that house Kane and more importantly his niece retained her honor.

For the time being, he just had to track down the source of the rumors. Having the number one suspect in the courtyard right now was a stroke of good luck that he couldn't have expected. The man decided to be discrete, if he went to some shady place to try and berate him, it would only add fuel for the rumors. Instead, he played innocent. Keeping up a stern façade, the man's eyes drifted between the two men. "Really? You must be new to the job then." Tybalt informed Dan. "You keep your back straight when lifting unless you want to spend the next the next two weeks bedridden." The captain folded his arms across his chest. "Today we're going through some combat basics. Go and join the others." 

The move was somewhat intentional. He knew full-well that as luck would have it, there happened to be an odd number within the party that he'd just brought (you could thank a stomach upset for the missing man). One would be forced to try their luck against the captain, Tybalt was rather hoping that it would end up being poor Dresden. If it wasn't, he was just going to have to think of something else to have the chance to chat with the man.

A critique on the soldiers form was hardly something to worry too much over. Any military man could take some criticism and apply it to himself to improve, and Dan Wilbur seemed to be one of those men. He nodded his understanding quickly. "Yes, sir, you're right. It's a bad habit, I'll fix it." He said without hesitation and Dresden deemed his fellow Legionnaire as surprisingly eager to please, not that he wouldn't pretend to be the same if he felt it necessary.

Combat basics? Really? Well, he couldn't exactly fault the man for wanting to swoop in and make sure all of the Legionnaire's now under his command were prepared, but Dresden hadn't exactly expected this. That said, he seemed to pay no specific attention to Dresden and commanded the both of them to join in exercises which seemed like a good sign. Maybe the Commander wasn't one to dabble in or worry over rumors that could not be proven. "Yes, commander," they both answered, and jogged over to the group to join them. Dresden took a moment to wipe the sweat from his head as they approached the others and by the time his shirt was tucked back into his trousers, he'd lost sight of Wilbur. When he found him again, the man was speaking with a group of three, one being a younger soldier who he knew to be Wilbur's youngest brother. He and the kid walked away from the other two, dividing themselves up into pairs to continue the combat exercises they'd already been working on. With his former partner now gone, Dresden's eyes scanned the crowd once again, counting. Sets of two appeared before him at every instance, and he went on them a second time just to be sure. He was the lone man out.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it.

"Commander Zane?" He spoke as he approached the man once more, his back straight and hands folded behind it. "There's an uneven number of soldiers. Would you prefer some of us form a group of three or shall I switch out with another soldier when they're done?"

Tybalt tried not to focus too intently on the two men who he'd just sent off. Instead, he allowed himself to turn his attention towards the rest of the men currently exerting themselves. They were far from hopeless and the commander was confident that within a few months, he would have them at a level where he had no complaints to make. Until then, those who now found themselves under his command could expect to find themselves in the training yard or being drilled and briefed about the importance of protocol.

The commander would only allow his attention to drift back towards Dresden when he addressed him. He played the part, glancing back towards the other soldiers as if to ensure that he was well and truly correct with his assertion. Naturally, he was. For once, it would seem that luck might have been on Tybalt's side. He was somewhat curious to see just what this man who had somehow found himself at the center of so many of the rumors about his family was capable of. Call it arrogance or prejudice but as of right now, he wasn't expecting all that much. The older man glanced around as if to search for some manner of solution before ultimately coming to a very simple one. "Well, I just so happen to have a sword. So you'll have to make do with me." Without giving the other man the opportunity to complain or to protest, he would draw his longsword steadily, not in a menacing way but one which still made it clear that he intended to give a good show.

"Shouldn't be a problem for a young man such as yourself, should it?" There was perhaps a slight taunt behind his words. The captain would adopt a very typical fighting stance, waiting patiently for the other to attack and silently confident that any blow that came his way he could and would deflect. Whilst he certainly didn't intent to humiliate Dresden, he most certainly wasn't about to give him something else to boast about.

Dresden watched Tybalt as he examined the groups, and then came to a conclusion that the younger man had half expected and fully hoped to avoid. He and Command Zane were similarly built - somewhere around the same height and weight - but that was where the similarities stopped. The man had probably been training with a sword since he was old enough and strong enough to lift one, and he had years upon years of experience under his belt. Dresden had been posted up outside the palace during the trial of Hiram Eldouir and saw the carnage that had been leftover for himself. Anyone capable of surviving that mess without any permanent injuries was a force to be reckoned with, and for some reason Dresden had gone and placed himself right in the mans sights.

Truth be told, Dresden was more of a long game man and his romp with Scout had not been planned. A kiss planted and more teased - nay, requested - in the middle of the courtyard from a woman like the Lady Steward would get any mans blood pumping and he was only that. Only a man. Sure, there were stronger men who might have thought first of Scout's supposed virtue and her pristine reputation, but Dresden had not been one of those men on that day. Or, to be fair, most any day. As such, he would have to suffer the consequences. Was it worth it? Well, Dresden had never been one to fear a beating, and there was only so much Tybalt could do in the open. The man likely still thought it all nothing more than a rumor assuming Scout hadn't informed him of the truth, so if anything, he hopefully only wanted to teach Dresden a little lesson.

Watching him draw his sword, the slightest smirk crossed Dresden's face. "Young or not, Commander, I think we both know you'd best me any and every day of the season." He drew his own sword though, crossing it calmly with Tybalts. "But it'll be an honor to learn a lesson or two from you."

The captain risked a brief glance in the direction of his bracers. He would likely have noticed if they were beginning to do their work without him willing it but some visual confirmation was always welcome. He was aware that he wasn't necessarily in the most relaxed state right now and that his mind could most definitely have been clearer. Once he actually started to spar, he anticipated it getting a bit worse. The last thing that he wanted was to lose control of Cassian's little gift in front of the men he was supposed to be training and installing discipline into. For the time being, he was going to assume that it was alright.

For a while, he endeavored to push all thoughts of the rumors that had been going around from his mind. Instead, he would fulfil this task as he would have had been Dresden been any other man or woman under his command. His beloved niece's honor would come later, although it certainly wasn't forgotten. There were few things that were more likely to get a Kane's blood to boil than one of their own being implicated in such gossip. 

Tybalt would only bow his head in response to Dresden's statement, as if to confirm it. It would have been easy enough to allow himself to cut loose and humiliate the man (at least in the Commander's mind) but he had two things to think of: first of course was those watching and second was his enhanced strength, he spent a considerable amount of time guarding that particular secret. He did whatever he could to restrain himself, to appear little more than an average Lorendaler, a task that was becoming more difficult as he aged and should, in theory, have found himself to be slowing down and weakening accordingly.

The commander readied his longsword, drawing it it steadily and ensuring that he had a good grip on the handle. He would adopt the most basic of fighting stances, braced but also ready to move quickly if the need arose. He waited, sword outstretched, a clear invitation for Dresden whenever the man felt like getting things started. Tybalt didn't have the highest of expectations, these weren't the Royal Guard after all but he was willing to be proven wrong, just not particularly expecting to be.