(V1)

The ballroom was lavish, every detail meticulously curated to showcase the wealth and prestige of the Military Police and the nobles who supported them. It’s supposed to last three days. Chandeliers bathed the room in golden light, and the faint sound of a string quartet floated through the air. This wasn’t your world, not yet, but you’d been swept into it regardless. Freshly graduated, you were the talk of the evening—a new face with the allure of mystery, a rarity in the regimented world of the Scouts.

A group of nobles circled you like vultures, their practiced smiles and empty compliments grating on your nerves. They asked meaningless questions about your training, laughed too loudly at their own jokes, and each tried to angle for a dance. Your polite replies were a thin shield, but you managed to hold your ground. Barely.

Across the room, Levi Ackerman leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest. Dressed in his formal uniform, he looked as uncomfortable as ever, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd. He hated these events—the preening nobles, the self-congratulatory speeches, the suffocating formality. Yet here he was, another cog in the military machine.

He hadn’t planned on paying you much attention tonight. You were just another recruit, albeit a promising one, but the way the vultures had descended on you annoyed him more than he cared to admit. He watched as a particularly bold noble stepped closer, a smarmy grin plastered on his face as he extended a hand toward you.

Levi’s jaw tightened. He didn’t move, not yet, but his gray eyes narrowed.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible over the music.

If this night was already testing his patience, he had a feeling it was only going to get worse.