It’s a decisive victory.

Of course it is. He had chosen her for a reason back then, after all. 

“It looks like we’ve found my personal guard.”

Everyone looks aghast at him. “Your Highness, no!”

“...No?” Who are they to tell him no? Yves eyes the offender, yet another nobody knight who dared to get in his way, with unnatural stillness. From the way they pale, it’s clear they realize the gravity of their error. He curls his lips in a sneer, and continues acridly. “I must look pathetic in your eyes, for you to think you can tell me what I can or can’t do.”

“N-No, I,” they wince at his expression, before hurriedly rephrasing. “That’s not what—”

“Silence.”

Yves raises an eyebrow, glancing at…whoever this person thought he was. “Did she or did she not best the lot of you. It’s pathetic, honestly, that—”

An outsider, but not quite. Bloody hands and cryptic words falling from a bittersweet smile. Someone he was never supposed to see again.

“One person would prove this difficult to our supposedly esteemed knightage. I wonder if we should not disband it entirely, if you all prove to be this useless.”

“It is… not safe for this person to become your personal guard.” It’s almost comical, the way the knight commander so carefully chooses his words, delicate but firm at the same time as he ignores the jab. This kind of bravery would be commendable, especially valued on the field where one needs to be able to stand by their opinions in the chaos of battle, if not for the fact that it is being used to get in Yves' way. “Strength means nothing when we’ve already seen how volatile he can be. For someone so dangerous to be assigned to a position so close to your Highness’s side is not a decision I can agree to in good standing.”

A logical statement. Yves would agree with it normally, especially when a patch of the ground is still saturated with blood and yet…

He looks over to where Erica is currently being pinned down by several grown men, the weight pressing down on every inch of her body as well as the threat of even more pointier weapons pointed at her keeping her still. 

A useless endeavor, really. 

As soon as she’d snapped out of that odd frenzy, the fight had drained out of her body in an instant. Instead, she’d limply allowed the others to crush her into the ground, eyes glued to the bloody sight before her with a haunted expression. Was it guilt? Disappointment in herself for her lapse in control? Whatever the case, Yves addresses her for the first time since he first laid eyes on her.

“Are you going to pose a threat to me?”

For a moment, he thought his words had fallen on deaf words, the way her focus remained on that bloody patch. Before he can repeat himself, a hoarse voice trembles in the air.

“A threat?”

She can’t see him, not with her head pressed to the ground like that. Not with how he stood at her blind spot. Still, he can see the moment she freezes at the idea, before frantically shaking her head as best as she can. The sudden movement is enough to cause a few of the hovering blades to nick her skin, before they are hastily shifted away just a tad.

Yves gestures at her to the commander, the silent see? clear on his face. It’s a ridiculous way of confirming her relative safety, but it’s not like he can tell them the truth of why he is so sure she would not hurt him. Who would believe him if he started spouting nonsense about the future, how she has died for him? How he was the one to wield the blade against her? 

Needless to say, this line of reasoning will not work in changing anyone’s mind, no matter how valid. He knows this will cement the image of a spoilt prince in everyone’s mind, but better an arrogant prince than a weak one. Yves barely resists the urge to sigh when the commander tries again with a different tactic.

“It’s not appropriate for a commoner of unknown origins to be your bodyguard. We don’t know where he comes from, whether or not he is trustworthy.” It would be a good point to make, if Yves were not vastly more familiar with Erica than he is with some random knight he’s never spoken to in his life. Which is not saying much, considering he already knows next to nothing about her. 

Another knight looks down at Erica disdainfully, before switching languages, the words shifting into something more sibilant, akin to the whistling wind.  “He doesn’t even speak the imperial tongue. Can he even read?”

“Can you?” Erica spits, finally more animated.

All eyes swivel back to her incredulously, Yves included. 

She could speak the imperial tongue? What? When?

“How does a commoner know the imperial tongue?”

Finally, someone with a half sensible question. 

There were two main languages spoken in the kingdom. The most common was the common language, while the imperial tongue was only ever taught to nobility. Formal documents were also written in the imperial language, which resulted in a noble majority in the government positions. In his previous life, when he had run away and was living outside of the palace, Yves had used the common tongue, as did Erica. Not once has she ever spoken otherwise.

And why would she?

The fact of the matter is: Knowledge of the imperial language is a jealously guarded secret the nobility kept from the commoners. How else would they further distinguish themselves from the lower class?

So how does someone of unknown background know how to speak it? Does she actually have a noble background? Yves studies her appearance. Black hair is an extremely common color, one shared by both the nobility and commoners. There was nothing striking to her facial features either; simply a face that could easily blend in any crowd. The only thing that really stood out were her pink eyes, and as far as he is aware, that is not a shade any noble family can lay claim to. 

It’s not a shade he’s ever seen anywhere else, period.

Perhaps she is a previously unheard of bastard child, only now shown up to garner the favor they would’ve never gotten otherwise? Is she here to keep an eye on him? To report his every move from a position so close to him? Doubt cuts through the surprise of seeing her. 

Is she—had she always been one of the queen’s people? Has she been playing him for a fool the entire time? He’s always thought she was a commoner, uncouth as she is, but this revelation leaves him off centered. If everything she has ever done was because of some noble family’s schemes—

If she had died for him solely due to someone else’s orders…!

His teeth creak from the force of his grit, and he has to make a conscious effort to take a deep breath and exhale. Loosen his fists and jaw bit by incremental bit. There is no reason for this sense of betrayal. There isn’t. Betrayal first requires trust, and he has never trusted her. 

Has never trusted anyone.

Yves looks down at her in a new light, a chilling sensation settling inside his chest. Ok. Alright, then. He’ll play along with it. With her so close to his side, it’s all the better for him to pay more attention to her. He has all the time in the world to pry the truth from her. She won’t escape this time. 

If she turns out to be plotting against him, then he’ll make her pay for her treachery. 

Heedless to his thoughts, Erica bares her teeth in a mockery of a smile, teeth stained red from her bloody nose. “Was it supposed to be hard?”

The commander pinches the bridge of his nose in despair. 

“Regardless, his background is still unknown. More importantly, he’s a child. Please, we can hold another recruitment. I can assign one of my men to your side in the meantime, one whose quality and background I can assure.”

He has to give credit where it’s due. What a stubborn bastard. Now Yves is definitely going to keep Erica despite any misgivings, even if just to spite the commander. How dare anyone stand against him? How dare anyone tell him what he can or cannot do?

Not for the first time, Yves misses when people feared him, back when he ruled with an iron fist, when they would follow his every order to the letter without question. Now, there’re all these nobodies who think their opinions are worth anything. 

“A child she may be, but still one who has defeated you pathetic lot.” Yves pauses and looks down at her consideringly. Though, now that he thinks about it… “How old are you anyways?”

He’d never given attention to anything else besides his goals back then, but now that she is before him, face still rounded with remnants of childhood, he finds himself curious of the answer. How long has she had this brutish strength? 

She stays silent. One of the guards makes to shove at her when Yves raises a hand for him to stop. Yves sends a disapproving look at them. How dare they act without his orders. How dare anyone raise a hand towards—well, he supposes she wasn’t one of his. Not anymore, and not yet, at least.

“Answer me, or I’ll let them toss you out. Make no mistake, I have no use for anyone who is unwilling to reveal even their age.” Especially not one with unknown motives such as hers.

The silence continues, and he is about to call it a lost cause, when she grits out an answer. “...15.”

His eyebrows raise. That’s young. Younger than he thought she’d be, considering she is already standing near the average grown man’s height. Then again, she has always been on the taller side; even back in their previous life, she had been eye level with him. At least, he assumed she’d be, if she ever managed to look him in the eyes for longer than a split second. He’d just assumed she was older than him. More importantly…

“The same age as His Highness?” The crowd looks at her incredulously, before they turn to him. Whispers and mutterings grow around them, and though they are hushed, Yves’s eye twitches all the same. 

“I thought he was a little on the small side, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“No, my brother is the same age and he’s not that tall either. Not as short as His Highness, but still.”

Yves narrows his eyes and the training ground hushes. “Shall I cut your tongues out for you, or would you like to do it yourself?”

Blissful silence. See, threatening violence is always the answer. 

“...Be that as it may, he is still too young to—”

Oh for the love of god. Why is this bastard so persistent? Was he working under the queen’s orders, to push for one of her own people instead? It’s a shame, then, that it just makes him want to keep her around even more. Yves will be damned before he does anything the queen wants him to. He supposed others might be wondering why he was so adamant on keeping a dangerous unknown as his guard as well. 

“Fine. She won’t become a knight.” It’s not as if honor and chivalry were something he was expecting from her anyways. If anything, he sees it more like selecting an eyas from the nest, deciding to train it until it becomes a loyal falcon ready for the hunt. From a weak little chick to something with sharp talons and an even sharper beak. A tool used for death. 

Though in her case, it’s more like picking up a bear cub. Docile with the capacity for frighteningly monstrous strength in an instant.

Before the commander can get too relieved, Yves continues with a mean smile. Turns to Erica. “You. Are you willing to be hired on as a mercenary? Working exclusively for me, of course.”

Another dangerous game he is playing here, to have someone who answers to him and only him instead of the crown. One the commander realizes as they step forward with a protest.

“Your Highness!”

Just like Yves, Erica ignores the surrounding hubbub.

“Yep!”