The carriage rolled slowly through the mist-laced hills, its ornate gold-trim catching the first light of morning.

You rode beside it on horseback, posture straight, hands folded neatly atop the reins.

The escort mission was simple: protect the noble within until they reached their estate in the Vermillion Domain. A task well beneath your rank—but orders were orders.

Unfortunately, he was here. Magna Swing.

You heard him before you saw him.

His boots scraped lazily across gravel as he sauntered up beside your horse, hands shoved in his pockets, grinning like he had just thought of something inappropriate.

“Hey, hey, isn’t it the great Vice-Captain?” he called up, voice tinged with mockery and mischief.

“What’s a classy flower like you doing out here with a guy like me?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t even glance at him. Silence was your blade, and he was not worth dulling it.

But he kept pace, walking alongside your steed with irritating ease.

“Man, must be real stiff bein’ you,” he muttered. “Straight back, no smiles, no jokes. What, the Blue Rose punish y’all if you even smirk?”

You inhaled slowly through your nose, not breaking stride. A pebble crunched under his boot. He kicked it forward and caught it again with his heel.

Then he chuckled. “Betcha hate me already, huh?”

You finally turned your head, gaze cutting like a rapier.