Martina blinked, a faint flush rising. "Uhh... is there something you need?"
Vetra said nothing. Instead, she gently tucked a stray strand of Martina's long white hair behind her ear. Martina's breath caught, shock widening her eyes. Without pause, Vetra slid the rose into place above her ear, the gesture tender yet assured.
"My, that was rather..." Martina paused, composure wavering before she smiled softly. "...sweet of you, Miss Vetra."
"Just call me Vetra," the warrior replied evenly. "You hold a higher position—treating your assistant with such formality won't sit well, especially with the kingdom's subjects."
Martina's expression turned thoughtful, a touch of disappointment shadowing her optimism. "Okay, I'll call you Vetra. But I don't think anyone would mind if I show you—or anyone—respect. Everyone deserves to be honored."
Vetra hesitated, her calm facade flickering. "I... understand. But some people..." She trailed off, the weight of unspoken scars lingering in the air. "...just don't deserve it."
———
Later that evening, Vetra sat alone in her new quarters, perched on the edge of the bed. Moonlight slanted through the window, illuminating her thoughtful expression as today's events replayed in her mind.
"'Everyone deserves to be respected—everyone deserves to be honored,' she said..." Vetra mused silently, Martina's words echoing.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "Oh, dear Martina... quite the saint in a world like this. How amusing." She muttered to herself, genuinely entertained by the princess's unexpected softness—a kindness far greater than Vetra had anticipated.
Rising, she approached the mirror. Her shirt hung open, revealing her exposed waist, arms, and neck—marked by faint scars along her upper arms, the side of her waist, and collarbone. Battle remnants of her warrior past. Vetra traced one lightly, then smiled faintly before pulling on her shirt.
She slipped out into the night, drawn back to the garden. Under the stars, the roses glowed ethereally, majestic in the moonlight. Vetra sank onto the cool grass, closing her eyes. Relief softened her serious features, a rare moment of peace washing over her.
———
The next morning, dawn's soft light bathed the garden as Vetra stirred from sleep. Faint voices called her name, too muffled at first to recognize.
"Miss Vetra! Miss Vetra! Are you okay?" Martina's concerned voice broke through.
Vetra blinked awake, turning toward the princess. Martina stood over her, worry creasing her brow.
"My, my... it seems you fell asleep in the garden, Miss Vetra."
Vetra sat up, rubbing her eyes to shake off the haze. "Ahh, right—I came out here last night and... well, dozed off, you could say."
Martina tilted her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "I see. Though why the garden at night?"
"Just needed some fresh air," Vetra replied simply, her calm tone deflecting deeper questions.
Martina nodded with an easy smile. "Ah, well, okay then. But you should get ready—I'm heading out to visit the kingdom's folks today." Her words carried a warm, friendly lilt, far from any royal arrogance.
Vetra rose smoothly. "I see. I'll go prepare. Meet you at the door."
"Okay! Don't take too long," Martina teased lightly.
"As you say, Your Highness," Vetra said with a faint smirk, heading inside.
In her room, Vetra dressed efficiently: a crisp white shirt under a maroon vest, black pants, and tie, paired with a grayish-black cape and fingerless gloves. A sword rested in its black scabbard at her hip, her half-ponytail hairstyle intact, a black band circling her neck. She adjusted the blade and stepped out.
Martina waited, radiant in a soft-themed dress blending white and pale yellow, topped with a delicate flower crown. White pearl necklace and matching gloves completed her elegant yet approachable look.
———
Vetra strode up to the main castle doors, where Martina waited with her characteristic warmth. Inside a royal horse carriage, drawn by sleek steeds, they settled for the journey through Riverbend's winding paths. The kingdom unfolded around them—lush villages and cozy small towns dotting the landscape—heading toward the nearby orphanage Martina cherished.
Vetra shifted the two bags of sweet buns in her lap, handed over by Martina earlier. "Your Highness... if you wouldn't object, may I ask something?"
"Of course!" Martina beamed from her cushioned seat. "Ask freely—no need for permission."
"If I may," Vetra continued evenly, "why so many sweet buns before we left?"
Martina's laugh filled the carriage. "Ah, that! I'm visiting the orphanage kids too. Can't arrive empty-handed—they'd be heartbroken."
Vetra pieced it together. "I see. So you visit often."
"You're right—I love spending time with them!" Martina's eyes lit up. "How did you know?"
"When we met, you were just leaving the orphanage."
"Ah, right! How forgetful of me," Martina admitted with a sheepish grin.
"You sure love kids," Vetra noted, her tone measured.
"I really do—they're all so sweet and cute!"
"Yeah... they are, I guess," Vetra replied, masking her indifference. Children weren't her thing, but arguing with Martina's joy felt pointless. She mumbled softly to herself, lost in old thoughts.
Martina leaned closer. "Were you saying something?"
"Nothing—just remembered something," Vetra deflected smoothly.
"Okay then! We'll reach the orphanage in minutes." Martina said warmly
———
In about ten minutes, the royal carriage rolled to a gentle stop before the modest orphanage. Vetra and Martina stepped down, gazing at the familiar wooden facade nestled among the town's quiet streets.
Vetra glanced around, her black eyes thoughtful. "So... this is where we first met."
Martina blinked, then laughed lightly. "Oh right! I almost forgot that's where it happened."
"I thought I mentioned it on the way," Vetra noted dryly.
Martina flushed, embarrassment warming her cheeks as she offered a nervous smile. "Right! How forgetful of me!"
Before more could be said, a boy emerged from the orphanage doors, approaching with steady steps. No older than 14, he carried a calm, neutral expression—lacking the usual bright chatter of children his age.
"Hello, Miss Martina," he said politely. "Pleased to have you here again."
Vetra studied him curiously. "And who might you be?"
Martina jumped in proudly. "This is Aaron. He looks after the other children here, even though he's so young himself. Isn't that impressive?"
Vetra repeated the name softly. "Aaron..." She nodded. "Well, yeah—he is quite impressive."
'A bit suspicious… No, he just seems mature for his age. Or maybe… he's one of them' Vetra thought warily to herself.
"Though aren't there any elders to care for the children in this orphanage?" Vetra asked.
Martina shook her head. "Ah, no actually. When the staff are busy, Aaron steps up for the others."
"Oh... my apologies for misunderstanding," Vetra said, then knelt to Aaron's level, her tall frame folding with ease.
"How old are you, kid?" she asked directly.
"I am 14 years old," Aaron replied evenly.
'Right, 14… just as I thought' Vetra mused internally.
Aaron tilted his head. "And who may you be?"
Vetra paused, mildly surprised by the straightforward question despite her obvious role. She kept her calm demeanor. "I am Vetra, Princess Martina's personal assistant and bodyguard."
"I see... Okay, you both may come in," Aaron said, stepping aside.
Martina beamed, clutching her flower crown. "I hope the children are all doing well!"
————