Fortunately, their way back to his quarters is uneventful. They are just about to reach his building when Erica speaks up again. 

“Thanks, by the way.”

Yves raises a brow. For what? The bandage? What a paltry thing to be grateful for.

Erica reads the silent question on his face and clarifies. “During the recruitment. I would’ve gotten kicked out or imprisoned if it weren’t for you. I, ah, underestimated people’s reaction to losing to little ol’ me. Didn’t think they’d be that sore of a loser.”

“You won. They didn’t. Why would I accept a weakling for a bodyguard? Though, it is interesting, considering your lack of background.” Yves capitalizes on the moment. When else would he get the chance to pry more into her background? “I don’t recognize you from any of the noble families, so where did you learn to fight? Surely with your strength, you could easily have joined the knightage the usual way. There’s more honor to be gained there than by becoming stuck with a powerless prince.”

Who are you, really? Why have you come here, when I have done so much to avoid you. To avoid our fate.

…It’s not her dying for him that bothers him. He has no compunctions on using people for his own gains, no qualms if they end up dying because of him. In the end, he knows where they stand with each other, what they want from him. If they end up dead because things went wrong, then they knew the risks. 

Which makes the idea of someone dying for him with no discernible reason, no motive, nothing but an insurmountable but consistent distance from each other absolutely incomprehensible. 

And Yves, Yves has never been good at leaving mysteries alone.

What does she want?

There’s a carefully blank expression on her face as she is silent for a few moments before answering.

“Why the questions?” Erica tilts her head before gasping exaggeratedly. “It can’t be… Are you interested in me? I know I’m very charming, but I keep my personal and professional life strictly separate. So I can’t get involved with my boss, let alone one who’s shorter than—” 

“Have you lost your mind?”  He has never been so flabbergasted, immediately backing away as he stares at her, speechless with incredulity. Interested in her? The very idea is enough to make him shudder and recoil. Was there ever a normal thought in that head of hers? 

People were interested in him. Not the other way round. Never the other way round, especially not to some muscle brained idiot like her. He hasn’t lost his mind that much. Another shiver runs up his spine as he takes another few steps back, before pausing.

Wait.

“I’m not that short.”

The silence that hangs between them as Erica looks down at him dubiously is infuriating. Despite their similar ages, she is… unfortunately noticeably taller than him, and the difference makes him bristle. Yves may be on the smaller side now, but he will grow much taller in his later years; he knows this. Has lived through it. He’s just a late bloomer, that’s all.

“Of course you’re not short, Boss.”

But it doesn't grate on his nerves any less when he has to crane his head to look up at Erica. What was she so tall for, anyways? He’s fairly certain she is above average among their peers in terms of height. Something that will only grow more apparent once she starts eating more regularly and her lanky form fills out with more muscles. 

How terrible. He never could stand anyone looking down on him, both literally and figuratively. “I’m still young now, but I will get taller later on.”

The pitying look he gets in return is enough to make him grit his teeth. “Sure, Boss. Of course you’ll grow taller. Whatever the boss says, goes.”

“You—” Yves snarls, before deciding to be the mature, rational one. “You know what? I’m not entertaining this. You’ll see soon enough.”

He can’t wait to see her face when he is tall enough to look down on her. The gloating will be nonstop.

Erica hums in a way one does when placating a child. “It’s always good to have hope, I suppose.”

Yves narrows his eyes, but his retort dies away when they arrive at his room. 

“Well then, have a good night.” Erica bows mockingly, before smiling. “Little boss man.”

“I will execute you.”

Erica’s muffled giggles are still audible even as he closes the door in her face. 

Insufferable thing.

.

.

.

It’s not until later when he is lying in bed that the conversation runs through his head again, and the realization strikes. 

“Fuck.”

He never did get his answers, did he? Was that intentional, then? Was the nonsense meant to distract him from digging into her motives? How many times has he been led astray from prying further into her by an inane comment? 

The thought of being played for a fool the entire time makes his fist clench. 

…No, she was far too simple minded to do any such thing. At least, not intentionally. Erica is an idiot without a single thought in her head, her brain replaced by more muscles to power her inhuman strength. Yes, that must be it. He refuses to consider the possibility of being so easily redirected by such a fool.

Yves rolls to his other side, pausing when he hears an odd crinkling sound. What was that? He doesn’t need to turn on the lights to see in the dark, not when his vision is just as clear at the dead of night as it is during the day. It doesn’t stop him from blinking several times, dumbfounded at the innocuous note laying on his pillow.

That…wasn’t there before. He is certain it wasn’t there when he had left for the walk. All of his stationary was in his study, a completely separate area from his bedroom. There’s no way it would’ve blown in from a stray breeze, not when the windows were left closed. Did someone enter his room when he wasn’t there?

Are they still here?

The thought barely sinks in before Yves whirls around, hand diving under his pillow to grab the dagger that is thankfully still here. With blade in hand, Yves scans the room before him. It’s empty, but the shadows that flicker with the soft candlelight makes him twitchy. No. He refuses to be afraid of the dark, not when they’ve always been under his command. 

With just a flex of magic, the shadows twitch before curling obediently under his command. He…can’t sense anything hiding in the dark. Quietly, he shifts off the bed, pausing before he steps onto the ground. 

…No, there wouldn’t be anyone hiding below his bed to use the same tricks as he did before. Still, he steps gingerly onto the ground, almost sighing with relief when there is no strike to his ankles. It takes a few uneasy moments of searching, shadows pointed and ready to attack, checking every possible corner, before the tension can bleed from his shoulders.

There is no one else in the room. The knowledge doesn’t settle him nearly as much as it should. He’d known that the palace would be a treacherous place, but to have his bedchamber, the place where he slept, be so utterly violated without his know-how deeply unsettles him. 

He scans the room one more time, before turning back to the note still laying on his bed. Cautiously, as if it were a viper ready to strike, he picks it up and reads it. There are only a few scant words, but it’s enough to make him still.

‘Leave now, before it’s too late.’