He woke to the sound of arguing. His head throbbed viciously, and he was lying on the common room sofa. Screams of a hysteric woman entered his eardrums, making his headache even more throbbing, and as his vision cleared, he got a better grasp of the situation
"...never should have gone that hard with him! Look at him!" It was Clara's voice, sharp as a dagger.
"Clara, please", his mother whispered, her face pale but her eyes betraying extreme worry, unique to mothers who had their children bedridden
"I didn't mean to!" Emma's voice was strained, thick with remorse. "He... he moved differently. It was a reflex. I should have been more careful, I truly apologize"
"A reflex?" Clara snarled, stepping between Emma and the sofa. "To knock my little brother unconscious over a reflex? You arrogant whore! You think because you're a knight you can treat him like one of your drunk recruits?"
The word hung in the air, toxic and final. His mother was silent, her face grave. Emma looked as if she'd been physically struck, all color draining from her face.
Greem pushed himself up, a wave of nausea washing over him. "Stop."
Everyone turned to him. Clara rushed to his side. "Greem, lie down! She could have seriously hurt you."
He gently pushed her hand away, his head screaming in protest. He looked at Emma, who was staring at him with devastated eyes. This was a problem. A rift in his cover story. An emotional scene that drew unwanted attention. It needed to be contained.
"Clara, that's enough"; he said, his voice firmer than usual, "Emma didn't do anything wrong. I asked for this. I pushed too hard, and I startled her. It was my fault." He managed a weak, conciliatory smile.
"A knight's reflexes are just... better than I imagined. Being knocked out is not that rare. Emma went through it. Every soldier went through it. It doesn't even hurt that much", he lied with a straight face
The tension in the room shifted. His parents looked at him, surprised by his calm reason. Clara was still furious, but the wind was taken from her sails.
Emma looked down, her shoulders slumping. "I am so sorry, Greem. I should have controlled myself"
His mother, ever the peacemaker, finally spoke. "It was an accident. Everyone is upset. Emma... you should stay the night. It's too late, and you're too distraught to go back to the barracks."
After a long, silent moment, Emma nodded, accepting the offer. Carla also apologised, her teary eyes replaced by relief as she heard Greem's explanations.
Later, long after the house had fallen into a tense quiet, Greem was sitting on his bed, massaging his throbbing temple. A soft knock came at his door.
It was Emma. She stood in the doorway, her knightly composure gone, replaced by a raw unease. Her green hair, unique to the Porfield Northern region and quite distinct in a rural southern city like Lunia, disheveled by stress exposed her frantic state of mind. Even if Greem had de-escalated the situation, she was likely mortified by remorse.
Knights were extremely strong individuals. It was said that a single knight could take on dozens of regular soldiers. It was not just a matter of physical attributes. They were superhuman who awakened "life force", some sort of unique vitality allowing them to go past the natural limits of the human beings. Vanessa called it "inner energy", and her feats in deadly combat made Greem respect knights even more than regular civilians.
It was only normal for a knight like Emma, even if she became one very recently, to be this distraught after such an incident.
"May I?", she said as Greem opened the door. Her voice was quiet, almost hurt.
He nodded.
She stepped in, closing the door softly. "I came to apologize again. And... to ask. What happened in the garden, Greem?"
He kept his face neutral. "I got scared. I flinched."
"You didn't flinch," she whispered, her eyes searching his. "For a second... you weren't there. I felt... I felt like I was facing something that wanted to kill me, and my body reacted on its own...I am so sorry..."
Greem met her gaze, his own shadowed and calm. Inside, his mind was racing, assessing the threat. She was too perceptive. She felt his killing intent. He had read about it in books, but he had not anticipated it could be perceived by a knight like Emma.
[Emma Carlister - Lv.6 Knight]
"You don't have to worry, I never loathed you for it. As I said earlier, it could have happened to anyone", he muttered softly, layering his Charm (25) skill into his voice, attempting to manipulate Emma, "Really, you don't have to worry. To me, you are part of the family"
"But...", she continued, her voice shaking
"My father paid for your tuition fees in the Royal Knight Academy at the capital...", Greem continued, using the huge investment his father had pulled as an argument
"...", she stayed silent, unable to answer. She felt even more remorse. The Southport family had taken her in when she was a little girl after the orphanage went bankrupt, and they had even paid for her knight studies...And yet, now, she hurt their boy.
"I got in over my head today because I wanted to be stronger. That's all. Your instinct was right to stop me; I was losing control." He offered a tired, genuine-looking smile. "Thank you for stopping me"
He was reframing the narrative. Turning his lethal intent into a novice's loss of control. Turning her protective violence into a justified act.
Emma stared at him. The evidence was all there—the apologetic boy, the logical explanation. Yet, the ghost of that chilling intent still lingered in her memory.
"Your eyes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "In that moment, they were... empty. Like a deep, cold well."
Greem didn't answer with words. He saw the conflict in her—the knight's instinct warring with the orphan's gratitude, the warrior's suspicion clashing with the family friend's guilt. It was a vulnerability, a crack in her resolve. And for a dark acolyte of the Black Widow Association like him, a vulnerability was a tool. Even if it was just an intuition, a bad feeling, she had seen through his act for a moment, and he could not afford his cover to be blown. He needed to tame her...or kill her...
He stepped forward, closing the small distance between them. He moved not with the clumsy hesitation of the boy she thought she knew, but with a predator's quiet certainty. Her eyes, wide and shimmering with unshed tears, looked up at him in confusion.
He leaned in and kissed her.
It was not a kiss of passion, but of possession. A deliberate, calculated act to shatter her line of questioning, to replace her unease with a different, more manageable kind of chaos. He felt her stiffen in shock, a small, startled gasp caught in her throat. For a second, she resisted, the adult in her rebelling. This was not a relationship that was allowed. As a knight of the Town's watch, she had vowed not to have a relationship.
Then, the weight of her remorse, the overwhelming debt she felt to his family, and the sheer, unexpected shock of it all crumbled her defenses. She melted into the kiss.
He pulled away, his own expression unreadable. "You can stay here if you want" he said
And she did. The night passed in a silent, tense agreement. The first rays of dawn were painting the sky when a familiar, booming voice echoed up the stairs, followed by heavy footsteps.
"Greem! You in there? My crew managed to finish the last preparations, and this time, the journey will be to Crunia. The expedition will last a little bit longer than usual, a month roughly. As the youngest captain in a while, I have to show composure, but I wanted to say goodbye before leaving..."
Both Greem and the 'unexpected visitor' were startled by this arrival.
As the door knob started to move, Emma dashed to the closet, removing all traces of her presence in this bedroom. Although nothing happened, this situation could cause a lot of misunderstandings, and more importantly, she had vowed not to have a relationship as she became part of the Town's watch, much less one with the child of her benefactors, someone she considered a little brother.
Greem, too, moved quickly to the door.
Kael stood there, his broad frame filling the doorway, a travel-worn satchel slung over his shoulder. He grinned, his eyes crinkling, "There you are! Still in your nightclothes? I thought you'd be up with the sun, practicing your fancy new moves" He stepped in and ruffled Greem's hair, his gaze casually sweeping the room
Greem's heart was a steady, controlled drumbeat in his chest. He allowed a sleepy, brotherly smile. "Just waking up. A month, you said? To Crunia? That's a long voyage"
He moved slightly, positioning himself between Kael and the closet. The accident had bounded Emma and him in a secret. A light-hearted one compared to the atrocities he committed frequently with the Black Widow Association, but still one that would bring him unwanted attention if exposed.
"Indeed it is! But the pay is worth it." Kael's eyes, sharp and merchant-shrewd, lingered for a fraction of a second on Greem's desk, where two cups sat.
He then glanced at the slightly disheveled bed, sized for one. His grin didn't falter, but a new, knowing glint entered his eyes. "I see you're... recovering well from your training accident. Looks like you found a rather effective way to take your mind off the pain."
Greem kept his expression neutral, layering on a hint of brotherly exasperation: "I have no idea what you're talking about. My head still hurts."
"Of course it does," Kael chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. A man has needs, even a bookworm like you. Just... be careful. Mom would have a fit if she knew you had a... 'guest'... over this early." He winked broadly.
Before Greem could formulate a denial that would only sound more guilty, Kael clapped him on the shoulder again. "I've got to go before the tide turns. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
He boomed with laughter and turned, his heavy footsteps retreating down the stairs
The moment the front door slammed shut, the closet door creaked open. Emma emerged, her face ashen. She had heard everything. The mortification of being discovered, even mistakenly, was written plainly on her face, warring with the lingering shock of the kiss.
"He... he thinks I'm... some kind of...," she couldn't even finish the sentence, her hand flying to her mouth.
Greem looked at her, his mind cold and clear. Kael's assumption was a gift. It provided a perfect, cover. It was a far better explanation than the truth.
Ashen, Emma started to open the windows, hoping to reach her own room without being seen. Kael was a matinal lad, and most of the house was still sleeping.
"Will I see you again? As much as my head hurts, I'd really like to become stronger with the sword", Greem asked with all the innocence and naiveness a boy his age could have, even if it was just an act.
An act...that Emma bought instantly. Her mind was in chaos, unable to think properly at this point, and merely nodded. She hugged him with mixed feelings of...things she could not express.