She moved slowly between the racks, examining the materials with the kind of attention she usually reserved for equipment before a mission. There was sturdy linen, reinforced leather, dense wool, and flexible fabrics intended to survive movement rather than merely look beautiful while standing still.

Eventually, she stopped before a row of women’s combat garments.

Her expression soured.

“This looks like market clothes. It is just a plain dress.”

Lady Brenda glanced over.

“That is the standard training attire for women here, Lady Worthon. Even the Adventurers’ Guild follows a similar style, though theirs is sometimes somewhat more… daring.”

“Not happening.”

G6 turned away.

Something farther along the wall caught her attention.

A separate rack stood slightly apart from the others, smaller and noticeably neglected. The clothing displayed there lacked almost every decorative feature found elsewhere.

She approached.

Lady Brenda’s expression changed.

“Those were rejected. Deemed inappropriate. Lacking noble decorum.”

G6 barely heard her.

The garments looked different.

They were not identical to modern clothing—they could not be. The materials, stitching, and construction clearly belonged to this world.

But the cuts were something she recognized.

They were practical, fitted where movement required stability and loose where the body needed range. There was no skirt tangling around the legs and none of the ridiculous volume that seemed to plague everything else in this world.

This… this design is just like from my world. Our style.

She immediately selected a long-sleeved, high-collared top, followed by black trousers in her size.

“My lady, I said they were not—”

“I am taking these, Brenda.”

G6 added a pair of sturdy black boots and placed everything into Lady Brenda’s arms.

“Have these delivered to my quarters.”

Lady Brenda stared at the collection.

G6 looked pleased enough to be planning an operation.

She stepped closer. Put one finger on her lips and smiled—more like a smirk.

“Keep it quiet from Her Majesty,” she whispered. “Can you?”

Then she winked.

Lady Brenda froze.

It was not because the gesture itself was particularly scandalous, but because Reise Worthon had never behaved toward her like this.

There was something disarmingly familiar in the confidence, the expression, and the shape of the face beneath the rose-gold hair.

It struck too near another Worthon face Lady Brenda was far less comfortable thinking about.

Color reached her ears.

“I could simply store them here,” Lady Brenda offered. “You may change whenever you come to train.”

G6 smiled and lightly touched Lady Brenda’s chin.

“That’s the idea.”

Lady Brenda’s breath caught.

G6 was already moving away before she recovered.

Oh, gracious heavens, Lady Brenda thought. Why is she suddenly so…

She stopped herself. No. Absolutely not.

G6’s attention had already shifted to Lady Brenda’s reaction.

Interesting.

Lady Brenda had shown similar nervousness around one of her brothers—the same hesitation and the same difficulty maintaining eye contact.

Unfortunately for Lady Brenda, the Worthon resemblance was strong. G6 had Reise’s face, while her brothers carried nearly the same bloodline structure despite their different coloring and sex.

Once identified, it was a useful weakness.

G6’s eyes landed on a belt.

She picked it up.

“Keep this with the rest, Bre—”

Lady Brenda blinked.

The casual abbreviation hit harder than it had any right to.

Did she just give me a nickname? Lady Brenda thought.

G6 caught the reaction immediately.

Easy.

She did not need affection. She needed familiarity, and familiarity made people generous with information.

G6 turned back toward her.

“Ah, Lady Worthon is such formal. Why not call me Reise?”

Lady Brenda stared.

“How could I address a direct heir of one of the Great Pillars with such familiarity?”

G6 studied her.

Hmm, is she lying?

She had already heard Lady Brenda address Lord Earl with familial ease before.

Brother Earl, rather than the distant Lord Earl.

So this was not really about rank.

Not entirely.

“I see… was it too much?”

G6’s expression dimmed slightly—not enough to look theatrical, only enough.

Lady Brenda immediately panicked.

“Oh, t-then… I will call you Lady Reise.”

Her ears were still red.

G6 watched her for another second.

Lady Brenda’s expression had gone distant again.

She is obviously drowning in her mental monologue again.

“Very well. Shall we?”

Lady Brenda blinked herself back into the room.

“Yes. Of course.”

She looked down at the clothes still gathered in her arms.

“Allow me to secure these first.”

An empty glass cabinet stood along one wall. Lady Brenda carefully placed G6’s chosen training attire inside, followed by the boots and belt.

The cabinet sealed with a faint magical shimmer.

When Lady Brenda returned, her composure had mostly recovered.

Mostly.

G6 noticed but did nothing.

Because of what she had just shown her, Lady Brenda had proven herself useful.

「BASTION OF PHALANX DEPARTMENT」

The second floor of the Bastion carried a quieter rhythm than the rest of the Royal Collegium.

The Bastion was unmistakably a working military department. Broad stone corridors connected offices, record rooms, personnel chambers, and administrative spaces, while uniformed knights and authorized staff moved through the building with the disciplined rhythm of people already at work.

Prince Dio walked toward his office with Lord Keith beside him.

Lord Keith had been following him for several minutes without any apparent purpose beyond having nothing better to do. Prince Dio had learned long ago that asking would only encourage him.

They were nearing his office when the door of a chamber across from it opened.

Leo stepped out.

The room had remained vacant since Prince Dio began working at the Bastion, and seeing the Queen’s personal butler standing there immediately caught his attention.

Lord Keith noticed as well.

“Unusual to see Leo here.”

Leo turned toward them and bowed.

“Good morning, Your Highness. Lord Keith.”

“Good morning,” Prince Dio replied.

“Hey, morning!” Lord Keith answered, considerably more cheerful.

Prince Dio glanced past Leo toward the room.

The door remained partly open. Inside, he caught sight of freshly arranged furniture, a cleared desk, several locked cabinets, and what appeared to be new supplies stacked neatly against one wall.

“It is rare to find you in this wing, Leo,” Prince Dio said. “What brings you to that vacant chamber?”

“Her Majesty instructed its preparation. It will be occupied shortly.”

Prince Dio stopped.

“By whom?”

His tone sharpened almost immediately.

“I have received no report of new personnel in the Bastion. The Professional Guild has filed nothing with my office.”

Leo hesitated.

Lady Reise’s registration had not followed the usual procedure, and the Queen had been very clear that the details of her appraisal were to remain confidential.

He had no intention of being the man who tested Her Majesty’s definition of discretion.

“Her Majesty may not have submitted the report through the usual channels yet,” Leo said carefully. “However, Lady Worthon has already begun her tour of the Royal Collegium. I was preparing to meet her when she reaches the Bastion.”

Prince Dio’s brow furrowed.

“Worthon?”

A moment passed before recognition hardened his expression.

“Reise?”

Lord Keith straightened beside him.

“Wait—our Reise?”

“Yes, Lord Keith.”

Prince Dio looked again toward the newly prepared chamber.

The conclusion came too easily.

“Why is she here? Another ploy to insert herself into my sphere?”

Lord Keith’s expression soured as he turned his head slowly toward his cousin.

“Dio.”

It was only his name, but the warning was obvious.

Leo remained professionally composed.

“You misunderstand, Your Highness. Lady Reise is unaware that she will be stationed within the Bastion.”

Prince Dio looked back at him.

“Unaware?”

“Indeed. Her purpose within the Royal Collegium is a matter arranged directly between herself and Her Majesty. I am not at liberty to disclose more.”

That only made Prince Dio’s suspicion deepen.

There was no ordinary Guild registration, only a private arrangement with the Queen and a room being prepared without a departmental report, while Reise herself apparently knew none of it.

A confidential appointment? Prince Dio thought.

Whatever his mother was doing, she had clearly chosen to keep him outside it.

Lord Keith, however, seemed far less interested in royal confidentiality.

“Well, I am coming down. Kinda miss Reise…”

His grin returned almost instantly.

Prince Dio looked at him.

Lord Keith shrugged.

“What? I do.”

Leo gestured toward the staircase at the end of the corridor.

“Shall we?”

“I will join you,” Prince Dio said.

Lord Keith’s grin widened.

Prince Dio ignored him.

“As department head, I should greet a new arrival personally.”

There was nothing unusual about that explanation. It was his department, and any employee stationed within the Bastion ultimately operated beneath his authority.

That should have been reason enough.

Yet the image of Reise walking away from the Queen’s tea without once looking back surfaced again with irritating ease.

The way she had spoken. The complete absence of jealousy or interest. Even when she had looked directly at him, it had felt as though she were evaluating an object rather than acknowledging the man she had supposedly loved for ten years.

Prince Dio disliked unanswered questions.

Reise had become one.

Lord Keith gave him a sideways look.

“Yeah, yeah. Department head.”

Prince Dio’s eyes narrowed.

“Keith.”

“I said nothing.”

“You were about to.”

“I was thinking.”

“That is usually worse.”

Lord Keith looked personally offended.

Leo hid the faintest trace of amusement as they began descending toward the first floor.

❈.❈.❈

The main entrance of the Bastion opened into a broad receiving hall built to accommodate knights, staff, visiting nobles, and officials moving between departments.

Unlike the Sanctum’s scholarly elegance or the Omnia’s quieter research atmosphere, the Bastion was unmistakably martial.

Weapon crests decorated portions of the stone walls. Noticeboards carried duty rosters and training schedules, while several knights crossed the hall in uniform and clerks moved between adjoining offices carrying folders and sealed correspondence.

One corridor led deeper into the administrative wing. Another eventually connected to the internal stairway descending toward the Training Arena below the Bastion’s ground level.

The arena itself remained separate from the building proper—a vast, sunken open-air training ground reached either through that internal descent or by the enormous exterior gates positioned behind the Bastion.

Prince Dio and Lord Keith stood just inside the Bastion’s grand entrance, several paces behind Leo, who waited with the composed patience of a man expecting an unpleasant reaction.

Lady Reise still did not know that Her Majesty had arranged for her to be stationed here. Leo thought.

Leo suspected that discovery would not be received gracefully.

Miss Eliza approached from one of the adjoining corridors and slowed when she noticed them.

“Good morning, Prince Dio. Lord De Lune.”

Prince Dio acknowledged her with a curt nod.

Lord Keith lifted a hand in greeting, though his attention remained elsewhere.

Miss Eliza followed their gaze toward the entrance.

A bright voice carried through the open doors.

“We are here, Lady Reise! The Bastion!”

Lilia appeared first, practically bouncing into the hall.

G6 stepped through the entrance behind her.

Prince Dio went still.

It was Reise. There was no mistaking her—the same rose-gold hair, the same grey eyes, and the same features he had known for years.

Yet something about seeing her now made the familiar image refuse to settle properly in his mind.

The black dress certainly contributed to it. Reise had always favored softer colors, delicate ornamentation, and everything expected of a young noblewoman preparing to become Grand Duchess.

This was sharper and more restrained, but it was not merely the clothing.

It was her.

Reise entered the Bastion without searching for him.

Her attention traveled over the building itself first—the unfamiliar corridors, the personnel moving through the hall, and the doors branching into separate sections of the department. Her gaze moved with quiet concentration, taking in her surroundings before she seemed particularly interested in anyone standing within them.

Prince Dio’s brow tightened.

The old Reise would have noticed him immediately.

She always had.

For years, he had found that attention suffocating. Now its absence was strangely conspicuous.

Beside him, Lord Keith had fallen silent as well, though his reaction was different.

He had known Reise since childhood. He had seen her angry, spoiled, stubborn, dramatic, overdressed, exhausted, and furious enough to threaten half the servants in the West Villa.

The woman entering the Bastion was still undeniably Reise.

That was precisely why the difference struck him.

Her face had not changed, but the person wearing it seemed to have.

Lord Keith’s eyes moved over the black attire and sharper styling before returning to her expression. The corner of his mouth lifted.

That actually suits you, Lord Keith thought.

Not merely the dress.

The attitude.

That strange confidence she had carried ever since returning from her seclusion.

Miss Eliza looked between the two men before turning toward Lady Reise herself.

She had heard plenty about Lady Reise Worthon—jealous, temperamental, and obsessed with Prince Dio.

Yet the woman approaching them did not appear particularly interested in the Prince at all.

G6 finally noticed the group waiting near the entrance: Leo, Lord Keith, Prince Dio, and Miss Eliza.

Her grey eyes passed over each of them in turn, acknowledging only their presence and nothing more.

Prince Dio’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly.

Lord Keith noticed.

His amusement immediately deepened, though he had enough self-preservation not to comment.

Not yet.

G6 continued toward them with Lady Brenda, Tina, Edmund, and Lilia nearby, apparently unaware that the simple act of walking into the room had left several people reassessing everything they thought they understood about Reise Worthon.

Prince Dio watched her approach, unsettled by a woman whose attention he had once considered inevitable.

Lord Keith watched an old friend who somehow seemed more comfortable in her own skin than he could remember.

She was still Reise, with the same face and the same unmistakable Worthon features, and yet neither man was entirely prepared for the woman who had just walked into the Bastion.

—To Be Continued…—