The dawn over Liones broke in soft pinks and pale gold, but the training courtyard below the castle was anything but gentle. Wind roared in spiraling columns, rattling banners and lifting dust in sweeping arcs as Holy Knight Howzer trained alone in the center of the field.

From your vantage point atop the eastern balcony — the same place you used to watch Elizabeth chase butterflies as a child — the view was spectacular. And loud. Very loud.

Howzer’s voice cut through the gale. “Tempest Whirlwind!”

Air surged outward like a living thing, coiling around his arms before exploding into a vortex that shot toward the training dummies. Wood shattered. Metal armor flew like leaves in a storm. The wind carried a faint crackle of energy, not thunder exactly, but the raw force of nature obeying its master.

You couldn’t help it — a tiny smile curved your lips.

He’s improved.

No longer the flustered knight who tripped over his own ambition, Howzer stood in the dissipating wind with shoulders squared, chest heaving, and eyes glowing with the soft blue of magic spent well. His blond hair — already a wild mess even before he started — now stuck up in ten different directions, courtesy of his own spell.

Still… the confidence in his stance was new. Steady. Strong.

You had been gone from Liones for two months on a diplomatic journey to the southern territories. Duty had called, and you had answered — something the eldest princess had no privilege to refuse. But returning now, weaving through familiar stone halls as sunlight warmed the castle walls, you felt a strange pull toward the courtyard.

As though someone had been waiting.

Howzer didn’t notice you at first. He dragged a hand through his hair, muttering something about Meliodas showing him “that totally unfair move again.” His wind magic rippled around him, faint and restless, like it was eager for more.

Then, as the morning breeze shifted, it carried your scent — lavender and parchment, the signature of hours spent between politics and battle strategy.

Howzer’s head snapped up.

His eyes locked onto yours on the balcony.

For a moment, the world stilled. Even the lingering breeze seemed to pause.

He blinked once.

Twice.

And then — WHAM — a gust of wind shot out from him in a startled burst, knocking over two unsuspecting knights behind him. Howzer spun around, yelping, “SORRY! Totally intentional training exercise!”

The knights groaned.

Howzer’s face turned scarlet as he slowly looked back up at you.

“P-Princess…” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat hard. “I—I didn’t think you’d be back this early.”

You rested your hands on the cool stone railing, leaning forward just slightly. “And you thought that meant you could destroy half the courtyard before breakfast?”

His embarrassment deepened. “I wasn’t— I mean— Well, technically yes, but—” He exhaled sharply. “I just wanted to get stronger before you saw me again.”

Your brows lifted. “Stronger for me?”

The wind around him flared in a tiny, almost traitorous swirl.

He gulped. “Well… I… maybe?”

You stepped down from the balcony stairs, boots clicking softly on the stone as you walked toward him. Howzer froze, posture rigid, every muscle bracing like he was preparing for a hurricane — though the real storm was the fluttering panic in his chest.

When you reached him, the morning sun spilled across your hair, illuminating the gentle resemblance you shared with Elizabeth — the same softness, but sharpened with maturity and a quiet power uniquely your own.

“Howzer,” you said softly, “you’ve grown.”

Wind stirred around his boots, swirling like an excited puppy.

“Welcome home,” he said, voice low, earnest, and warm enough to rival the sunlight.

The breeze curled around you both, tugging playfully at your hair.

And you couldn’t shake the feeling that this — this moment, this wind, this nervous, bright-eyed knight — had been waiting for you.