Alice's expression softened as she looked at the fortress rising from the snow-covered cliffs.
The northern wind caught her silver hair, sending it dancing behind her like a banner.
"It's home," she said quietly.
Not proudly.
Not boastfully.
Just… simply.
I followed her gaze.
The Draken stronghold stood unshaken against the winter sky—thick walls, watchtowers, banners marked with the sigil of a blade piercing frost. It wasn't elegant like the estates in the capital.
It was solid.
Unyielding.
Very much like her.
Alice turned to me then, a faint spark returning to her eyes.
"Once we return to the castle," she said, "perhaps we could spar."
There it was.
The invitation that was never just an invitation.
"I might have some pressing matters to attend to," I said carefully.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
