Alena drifted toward the estate's imposing gates when she spotted two of Claveria's most distinguished generals atop their noble steeds—General Aurion Elkhart and General Dravion Valthorn.

These men were not merely famed within the borders of Claveria; they were also known in neighboring lands as military titans.

Everyone knew that these two men had been a vital and irreplaceable part of the Donovian army, and that’s why the royal family had been poaching them for as long as Alena could remember. To the royal family, Elkhart and Valthorn represented unmatched martial excellence, a prize the monarchy sought to claim for its own. They attempted to entice the generals. The king had made countless attempts to woo them, involving even Alena in his schemes. During Aurion Elkhart's visits to the palace as the duke's emissary, Alena had been privy to private conversations with the general at her father's behest to coax him into their fold. However, Alena harbored no desire to sway the general from his chosen path because she knew the futility of such an action.

Alena's own interactions with General Elkhart had solidified her belief in the man's unbreakable fidelity to the duke. And she was right because even after the relentless pursuits by the king, even the king's most generous offers—riches, titles, lands—failed to sway the generals. They remained as immovable as stone, earning them the moniker "Duke Donovian’s dogs," a term that seemed to roll off their backs like water off a duck.

As Alena approached them, her attention was immediately drawn to the imposing figure of General Valthorn with his signature shoulder-length ash-colored hair, often pulled back loosely with a dark ribbon. She had only seen this general from a distance, so Alena was a little intimidated by the general’s sheer size and presence. She had heard he was the tallest in Claveria, but up close, he truly looked like a giant! But somehow, the man’s face, though marked with scars, still appeared quite handsome. His stature alone resembled that of an ancient warrior sculpted from the legends of Claveria.

Contrary to General Valthorn’s rogue and untamed beast’s appearance, General Elkhart appeared tame. He had dark hair styled neatly, with a full head of short, wavy locks that complemented his handsome facial features. As always, General Elkhart emanated a controlled aura, one that spoke of discipline and meticulously cultivated composure.

“What’s up with his lips?” General Valthorn asked, scratching his head. “I mean, it's hard to picture anyone even getting close enough to land one on him. So, yeah, I'm curious.”

Alena had moved even closer, hoping to eavesdrop since the duo seemed to be discussing something serious. She thought that she might discover valuable information and gain some insight into the duke's current affairs—perhaps even a clue to the whereabouts of her own body—but to Alena’s dismay, their conversation was not what she was expecting.

“His wife bit him,” General Elkhart responded, and Alena stifled a cough, taken aback.

That infuriating duke! The nerve of him announcing to his men that I punched him!

“Hang on, back up a sec,” Valthorn stammered. “Did you just say the duchess bit him? Or did you mean to say beat? No, wait, you do mean bit, as in with teeth, right?” He looked totally lost.

“Do you really think the Duchess would dare to hit him?” Elkhart raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that's true.”

“I've met the duchess more than once, and she seemed like such a sweetheart. Such an angel, in fact,” Elkhart mused. “Never pegged her for the wild type, but here we are.”

“And why would she bite him, anyway?” Valthorn scratched his head, still looking genuinely puzzled. “They’re not already at each other’s throats, are they?”

Elkhart glanced at Valthorn with a shake of his head. "This is why I keep telling you to get yourself laid already, Dravion."

“And how many times do I have to tell you, they’re all terrified of me!” Valthorn grumbled.