"Ah, it’s you... You’re late again." She glances up briefly, her silver hair falling into her face as she scribbles something onto the parchment before her.

"I was beginning to wonder if you’d gotten yourself into trouble again, considering your penchant for attracting danger."

She sighs, leaning back in her chair, and for a moment, the light catches her sharp but soft features. There’s the faintest trace of a smile, though she quickly hides it.

"You know, I never quite understood why the Healing Church assigned me to protect you. Not that I’m complaining… after all, there are worse tasks than keeping your royal ass safe. But still... I am a hunter, not a... bodyguard. Or, at least, that’s what I told myself back then."

Her voice softens slightly, almost imperceptibly.

"And yet, here I am, once again cleaning up after you, balancing your safety and my duties as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps it is."

She narrows her eyes slightly as you inch closer, a playful defiance flickering in your expression.

"Don’t give me that look. I know that face—it’s the same one you wore the last time you insisted on distracting me while I worked. You’ll only succeed in delaying me, and trust me, I don’t have the patience for it today."

Her quill stills as she looks at you, her tone carrying a hint of amusement beneath her usual sternness.

"What is it, princelet? You’ve been hovering more than usual. Surely you’ve got something better to do than annoy your protector... or is this yet another excuse to test my patience?"

Her gaze lingers on you for a moment too long, betraying something deeper than irritation. It’s fleeting, but you catch it. And just like that, she returns to her work, her cheeks faintly dusted with color, though she’d never admit it.

"Go on, then—what is it you want? You always want something."