Location: Northern Military Barracks
The northern winds swept through the military barracks, carrying the distant sounds of soldiers drilling and the occasional roar of a wyvern.
Magda stood beside Fredrick, her crimson eyes observing the bustling activity below. Her cousin's broad figure was clad in the heavy furs of the North, his sharp gray eyes scanning the field with a practiced ease.
"Fredrick," Magda began, her tone tinged with accusation, "I was in the archives this morning, and I couldn't help but notice something odd."
Fredrick raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a faint smile. "Odd? The archives? I'm surprised you made it out alive. I hear the dust there is deadlier than the beast tide."
Magda shot him a look, crossing her arms. "You know what I mean. Your stories about the Ice Phoenix at dinner—the ones that made it sound like some noble fairy tale—are far from the grim reality recorded in the archives."
Fredrick scratched the back of his neck, feigning innocence. "Grim reality? Come now, Magda, you're making it sound like I'm a bard spinning tales for children."
"That's exactly what you were doing!" Magda retorted, her tone growing sharper. "Flora and I were half-convinced the Ice Phoenix would burst into song any moment."
Fredrick chuckled, leaning on the railing as he regarded her. "I'll explain it all later. For now, why don't you enjoy the view?" He gestured to the soldiers below, who were demonstrating feats of strength and skill.
Magda's attention was drawn to a wyvern swooping down from the sky.
The beast's rider guided it with precision, its massive claws scooping up a heavy load from the ground. The wyvern soared through the air and placed the weight neatly in a marked area. The soldiers erupted into cheers and applause, marveling at the rider's control over the beast.
Magda's eyes sparkled with admiration. "Who is that?" she asked, turning to Fredrick.
Fredrick squinted, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Take a closer look."
As the wyvern landed again, the rider's features became clearer.
Commander Ethan von Shelb, clad in a close-fitting black vest that revealed his toned muscles, removed his goggles. His golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, and his every movement exuded an effortless grace.
Magda blinked, momentarily stunned. "Is that Ethan?"
Fredrick's grin widened. "The very same. You know, he's not just a man. He's a work of art. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's descended straight from the gods."
Magda frowned, feeling a pang of guilt at her own admiration. "Why does he have to look so... perfect?"
Fredrick smirked, leaning closer to her. "Feeling conflicted? Don't worry, Magda. Since you've married Micheal, you might never get another chance to admire a well-built man."
He straightened, his grin widening mischievously. "Unless, of course, you start frequenting the temples. I hear the new temple in the capital has statues so well-built that there's been a surge in female patrons."
Magda's cheeks flushed. "You're insufferable! And for the record, Micheal isn't exactly lacking in looks."
Fredrick's laughter was warm and teasing. "Oh, I know. But watching you squirm is too entertaining."
They watched Ethan's aerial maneuvers for a while longer, the soldiers below murmuring about his flawless control and discipline. After a moment, Magda sighed. "He's a little too perfect, isn't he? It's almost irritating."
Fredrick's expression softened with shared amusement. "I was just thinking the same thing."
Their laughter rang out, a rare moment of levity in the midst of the war preparations. As they turned to leave, Vivian approached, her emerald eyes brightening at the sight of Magda's smile.
"Your Highness," Vivian greeted warmly. "It's good to see you so cheerful this morning.""
Magda's grin widened. "It's Fredrick's fault. He's impossible to talk to without arguing."
Fredrick feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "You wound me, cousin."
Their banter was cut short by a sudden crash. The wyvern stumbled as it landed, its massive frame causing a ripple of panic among the troops. Fredrick and Magda rushed to inspect the commotion, their smiles replaced with concern.
Ethan dismounted gracefully, brushing off the dirt. His calm demeanor, however, was a thin mask over the frustration boiling inside him.
"My apologies," he said, addressing Fredrick. "The beast got a little spooked."
Fredrick clapped him on the shoulder, his tone both concerned and teasing. "Ethan, you've been pushing yourself too hard. Take a break before you collapse. You've practically been running the borders single-handedly."
Ethan nodded, though his jaw tightened slightly. "I'll keep that in mind," he replied, his golden hair catching the light as he forced a calm expression.
But as he turned to greet Magda, his hesitation was palpable. He managed a polite nod but kept his eyes firmly on the ground, muttering, "Good morning, Magda." The words were formal, devoid of his usual warmth, and Magda tilted her head slightly, sensing something off.
When Vivian greeted him in turn, her voice warm and tinged with her usual playfulness, "Good morning, Ethan," his composure cracked entirely.
His gaze darted away, his shoulders stiffening as if her words physically weighed on him.
"Morning," he mumbled, barely audible, before pretending to adjust his gloves.
The weight of Micheal's earlier confession about his drunken actions toward Vivian thundered in his mind. Every time he glanced her way, memories of his past missteps clawed at him, and shame wrapped around his chest like a vice. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.
Vivian's smile faltered, confusion flickering in her emerald eyes. She had always fought for and forgiven Ethan's flaws, understanding the burdens he carried.
But this sudden coldness from him was unlike anything she'd faced before. Still, she quickly masked her disappointment, her demeanor steady despite the ache blooming in her chest.
"Commander Ethan," she tried again, her tone steady but softer, "Is everything alright?"
Ethan stiffened further, gripping the strap of his leather belt as if it could anchor him. "I… The wyvern was spooked," he muttered vaguely, his voice clipped and distant. "I need to inspect it. Excuse me."
He turned sharply, walking away before she could press further. Magda's brow furrowed, and she exchanged a glance with Vivian, who merely shook her head and offered a small, unconvincing smile.
Vivian's calm exterior belied the storm of questions swirling within her—questions Ethan seemed unwilling to answer.
----
From a distant tower, Micheal watched the scene unfold. His sharp blue eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed Magda and Fredrick's animated admiration of Ethan. Aura made his blue eyes looks as if they were jewels as he trained them to see the woman in the barracks better.
A glint of gold sparked in his eyes as he trained aura to enhance his sight, catching every detail of the interaction below.
A flicker of jealousy tugged at his chest as Magda seemed captivated by his brother's effortless grace and commanding presence. Micheal's jaw tightened for a moment, his thoughts swirling with the absurdity of feeling envious over something so trivial.
But then Micheal's gaze shifted, honing in on Ethan's uncharacteristic awkwardness around Vivian. The way Ethan avoided her eyes, the tension in his movements—it all spoke volumes.
Micheal tilted his head, intrigued, as the usually composed Commander Ethan seemed utterly undone. He let out a faint chuckle, a rare smile tugging at his lips.
"At least," Micheal murmured to himself, "I'm not the only one who loses composure around the one I care for."