"So… Adam, huh?" she thought, her crimson gaze narrowing, dark and cold, as if the dwarf prince had just signed his own death warrant. Her small fist clenched tightly against the teddy bear she held, and in the quiet of her room she made a silent vow: during their next so-called training session, she would make him suffer. Of course, she would disguise it as nothing more than sparring.
Yet, despite her murderous thoughts, her chest felt strangely lighter. For the very first time, she had received a message from someone she had begun to acknowledge—not just as a rival, but as someone who mattered.
It was time to reply.
[I'm fine, there's no need to worry.] (Khione)
Nero glanced at her message and chuckled. Cold, detached—just like her. He was about to type his own reply when another notification came.
[What about you?] (Khione)
He raised a brow in mild surprise before responding.
[I'm doing fine. I just came from outside where I wanted to test the sword I received from Adam.]
