[FLASHBACK TO – 4 Years Ago – The Estate of House Mentil]
The hall was too quiet.
Servants stood at attention, eyes lowered. A noble girl — no older than fourteen — stormed down the marbled corridor in boots that were clearly too expensive to stomp with. Her long red hair bounced behind her like a cape of fire.
Mentil of House Elvane, youngest daughter of a prestigious bloodline, was pissed.
"Who the hell brings me a lukewarm tea?!" she snapped, holding a teacup like it was a cursed artifact. "Do you know how disrespectful that is?!"
The butler bowed deeply. "Apologies, my lady. We will—"
"I don't care about apologies!" she yelled. "Fix it or get out of my house!"
Just as the butler bowed again, the doors creaked open.
A young man with messy black hair stepped into the room, a sword strapped to his back. He wore plain clothes, a simple blue shirt already stained with travel dust. His eyes were sharp not with curiosity or fear, but judgment.
Reiner Cold.
Newly assigned as a guard trainee for House Elvane. This was his first day.
He blinked slowly. "So this is the 'noble prodigy'? Yelling at tea?"
The room froze.
Mentil turned sharply, eyes wide with insult. "Excuse me?!"
Reiner didn't bow. Didn't flinch. He just tilted his head.
"Do you treat all your guards like kitchen staff, or am I special?"
Mentil looked ready to explode. Instead, she picked up a porcelain plate from the tea set and threw it at his head.
Reiner ducked just in time. The plate shattered against the wall behind him.
Servants gasped. One fainted.
"…Well," he said, brushing a shard from his shoulder, "now I am special."
"Who are you?" she barked.
He straightened. "Reiner Cold. Ex-militia. Not here to bow. Just to protect your stuck-up ass."
Gasps echoed again. One of the servants whispered, "He's so dead…"
Mentil glared. She stepped forward until they were nearly nose to nose.
"You'll last a week."
Reiner didn't back down. "You'll miss me after three days."
She clenched her jaw. Then — to everyone's shock — she smirked.
"…Fine. Stay."
Reiner blinked. "Wait, what?"
"You've got guts. I'll give you that." She folded her arms. "But if I ever do throw another plate at your face, you better not dodge."
"…Then don't miss," he said flatly.
Mentil burst into laughter.
The butler collapsed onto a nearby chair in relief.
[BACK TO PRESENT]
Mentil sipped her drink on the mansion balcony, smiling to herself at the memory. The breeze blew gently through her hair.
Behind her, Reiner stood against the railing, arms crossed, eyes scanning the streets of Esteria below.
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" she asked.
He didn't respond.
"You were so awkward back then. Didn't even know which fork to use."
"You threw the salad fork at me."
"Only because you insulted my shoes."
"They were gold-plated. Who gold-plates shoes?"
Mentil chuckled and leaned against the railing beside him. "I'm glad you stayed."
"…Me too," Reiner said softly.
For just a moment, the tension in Esteria faded. And their quiet bond — forged from broken plates and burned tea — still held strong.
Mentil sat at the edge of the mansion's garden fountain, legs swinging slightly, eyes fixed on a cluster of colorful birds fluttering around a nearby tree. The city of Esteria buzzed softly beyond the gates — a peaceful hum of market chatter and clinking metal — but her mind was far from peaceful.
Reiner Cold stood nearby, arms crossed, leaning against the stone wall with his usual blank expression. His black hair, streaked with faded red at the tips, shifted slightly in the breeze. He watched her in silence, as he always did.
"…You're staring again," Mentil said, not turning to face him.
"I'm guarding you," Reiner replied flatly.
"You could guard me from the shade, you know. Or literally anywhere else that's not my direct line of sight."
Reiner didn't move. "Too far."
Mentil rolled her eyes. "You're so dramatic."
He raised an eyebrow. "Says the noblewoman who once threatened to light a man's pants on fire for not bowing deep enough."
"He deserved it."
Reiner grunted. "He was twelve."
"…A rude twelve."
A moment passed. Then Mentil chuckled softly. "Do you remember when we met?"
Reiner didn't answer right away. The air grew quiet.
"I remember," Mentil said, glancing up at the clouds. "I was still in training to inherit the house. Everyone treated me like glass. Except you."
"You threw a plate at my head."
"You ducked."
"Barely."
She smiled to herself. "I wanted to see if you were just another yes-man. You weren't. You told me off."
"You were being a brat."
"I was," she admitted. "But you didn't walk away. You stayed."
Reiner finally pushed off the wall and walked over, standing beside her. "I stay because you're stubborn. And strong. And... maybe too reckless for your own good."
Mentil gave him a sidelong glance. "Wow. That's almost a compliment."
He didn't look at her. "Don't get used to it."
She sighed, her tone softening. "Do you think joining this guild was a good idea?"
"They're strong," Reiner said. "And weird. But strong. I'd rather be on their side than anyone else's right now."
Mentil leaned back, her red hair catching the sun. "Yeah. They're different. Rei especially… there's something about him. Like he's holding the weight of two lives on his back."
Reiner didn't reply, but his eyes narrowed slightly.
She turned to him. "If it ever gets dangerous I mean really dangerous you'll still stay, right?"
He looked at her fully now, his face unreadable. "You really think I'd leave?"
Mentil smiled, then looked away again. "No. I guess not."
They sat there in silence for a while. Not as noble and bodyguard. Not as lady and soldier.
Just… two people who'd survived a lot.
Eventually, Mentil stood and stretched. "Come on. Let's see if the others are back. I want to know why that Leo guy smells like smoke and regret."
Reiner followed. "You're gonna get yourself punched one day."
"And you'll stop them."
"…Yeah."