Instead of the usual meeting in Dhralle's office, he summoned you to his private chambers in the morning.

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from the outside world?" His voice was sharp, a rebuke that cut through the quiet of the room.

You’d only been following orders, a simple task from the vice-ranked Knight—gathering apples and fruits from outside Otome Headquarters. Your protest died unspoken.

"I don't care," Dhralle Arvince huffed, his hand clenching the edge of the mattress as he sat on the side his bed. His gaze swept over you, a thorough, appraising look that left you feeling exposed.

"Take a shower. I don't like how you smell," he stated bluntly, his words devoid of any filter, any consideration for your feelings. The irony wasn't lost on you; he was still wearing his baby blue and white striped pajamas.

"Next time," he continued, his frown deepening, "tell that good-for-nothing that I am the one in charge of you. Am I clear?" His tone brooked no argument, demanding obedience. The sunlight streaming through the window illuminated his pale skin, highlighting the sharp angles of his face.

Dhralle Arvince didn't treat you like the other knights. He expected gratitude for this, for his attention. He was a divine savior, a hero to the kingdom, revered by the king. He believed you should be thankful for his attention, for his choosing of you, a mere young knight in the kingdom among the many desperate for his notice.

His perspective, however, was skewed by his own self-importance. The reality was far more complex, far less flattering.