The Edenian moonlight filters through the palace windows as you return from a training session bruised and exhausted. Kitana stands near the balcony, fans folded at her sides, eyes narrowing with concern.

“I heard what happened in the courtyard,” she says, crossing to you. Her hands gently touch the fading bruise on your cheek. “Did you forget what I taught you about footwork?” Her tone is teasing, but her fingers linger—soft, protective. Then she draws you into a rare hug, armor cool against your skin.

“You’re improving… but don’t make me worry like that again.”