During the nights, the cold in Frimasvale was always less forgiving. As Verde tread through the stony halls of his castle, his footsteps reverberated through the stone. It was te, but sleep continued to evade him due to his afternoon nap.

  The meeting with Theron felt like a barely avoided disaster. But it wasn’t on Verde’s mind, no. Now that that meeting with the notorious General was done and over with, his thoughts began to wander, straying towards a question that he’d been unconsciously avoiding ever since he’d come back.

  The book underneath his bed was an ever-present torment on his mind. Should he read more into it, or should he burn it? It was like a forbidden looking gss that peered not only into the future, but his sister's mind. The idea of invading Adeise's thoughts repulsed him, even if he tried to convince himself that those words weren't truly his sister's. These never-ending string of thoughts kept him tossing and turning in his bed, and so here he was in the middle of the cold hallways of his manor, wandering around like a madman.

  ‘The guests will not be pleased if I show up exhausted to the morning meetings,’ he thought idly to himself.

  Verde was about to give up his te night excursion and retreat back to his room, but by the time he made that decision he realised he had wandered quite the distance. When he was finally brought out of his thoughts, he heard the faint sounds of lively chatter and the clinking of mugs.

  Up ahead, he could see the flickering of orange against the shadowy halls, giving Verde a good idea of where he was. The guest rooms were situated at the other end of the castle. people of Frimasvale tended to retire to their beds early due to the cold nights, but he supposed the Metzger troops were instead staying up and enjoying a break after their long journey.

  It was rare to hear such liveliness in the evening. Verde idly wondered about the kinds of tales they seemed to be swapping over warm mugs of ale. It was a pleasant thought, but it would certainly be unbecoming of him to intrude, and so Verde began withdrawing, turning away to begin the trek back to his room.

  “No, I’m not going to drink.”

  Verde stopped in his tracks when he heard a familiar voice ringing out, as the door swung open and the sound of heavy boots clicking against stone began to ring out.

  “You lot can continue, but if I see any of you missing the morning warm-ups you’ll get punished two-fold.”

  At the sound of booing, he heard a snicker.

  Before Verde had a chance to make a tactical retreat, he froze at the sight of the Metzger general emerging from the door.

  He almost forgot how tall Wulfe was compared to him, as the other stood a full head higher. He was dressed down this time, in a simple shirt and loose trousers, however this somehow did a better job at showing the muscles that y underneath the fabric, his colrbone illuminated by the firelight as he craned his neck back to say his farewells to his men.

  What made Verde stop in his tracks was the sight of Wulfe’s smile, broad and carefree as he chuckled at the shouts of mock indignation from his troops. His body was x, and Verde couldn’t help but think that the Wulfe that was in his face and glowering at him earlier today was worlds different from the Wulfe in front of him now.

  When the Grand Marshal turned his attention to his front, fixing his golden gaze on Verde, whatever softness that was in his expression quickly evaporated, as his shoulders stiffened. He narrowed his gaze at the Lord, the smile on his mouth turning into a thin line.

  “To what do I owe the honour, Lord Emerys?” He asked, his voice going back to that thinly veiled tone of contempt that Verde was more familiar with.

  Verde narrowed his eyes at the other. He had to mind his manners in front of Theron, but his pride wouldn't allow him to let the knight walk all over him again.

  “Can a lord not walk inside his own manor?” Verde asked. He tilted his chin up at the knight, partly in a show of defiance, partly because Wulfe stood a head taller than him. He could see the other scanning him, eyes raking over him in a quick once over. Verde pressed his mouth into a thin line, rooting himself onto the spot as he refused to back down.

  “You’re hardly equipped for a stroll in the cold,” Wulfe retorted, gesturing towards the thin sleepwear that Verde had on.

  At the mention of that, Verde only just realised the chill that was seeping into his body. He silently cursed at his own carelessness, as his arms instinctively shot up to huddle himself in a meager attempt to warm up. Were his thoughts so consuming that he became absent-minded enough to forget to don his own coat before stepping out into the night?

  “Oh.”

  He saw Wulfe rolling his eyes.

  “Perhaps it would be best for you to return-” The knight began, as a hand reached out towards him.

  SLAP.

  The harsh sound echoed off the walls. There was a pause before Verde realised what he just did.

  Touch was a rare thing for him, and the st time he recalled human contact was getting stabbed in the stomach. Before he could even think, his hand had surged forward and harshly spped away at Wulfe ‘s wrist.

  “Th-That’s not necessary,” Verde stuttered.

  He was quickly cut short by the feeling of being shoved against the wall. In a fsh, the knight braced him with a single arm and loomed over him, yellow eyes piercing into the young man as Verde was pinned against the stone.

  “My apologies, Lord Emerys,” he said, distaste dripping from his tone. “I suppose a lowly commoner does not have the right to even touch someone as high born as yourself.”

  “That’s not - ugh!” Verde tried to expin himself, but he was cut off when Wulfe’s arm slid up to press against his throat. He could see Wulfe’s eyes narrowed, as the other pulled the corner of his mouth back into a sneer.

  “You don’t py the role of a welcoming host so well,” he said, almost in a taunting voice. “You can parade around as much as you please about your resources and your alliance, but that doesn’t mean you can win everyone over so easily.”

  He leaned in closer to Verde, breath hot against his cheeks still sensitive from the cold, whispering,”least of all not me.”

  He was so close now that Verde could feel his warmth seeping in, the aroma of spiced mead and roasted meat wafting between them. Verde could feel himself instinctively flushing, as he struggled against Wulfe’s strong grip, trying to pry himself apart from the rger man.

  “You are sorely mistaken, Sir Alvar,” he retorted through gritted teeth. Verde met the knight’s gaze with what he hoped was an equal amount of contempt and defiance. “My intentions are to bring prince Theron’s goals to reality, and support the new system under his leadership.”

  Evidently his words meant little, as the other snorted in derision.

  “In my experience, people of your status tend to only prioritise their own interests. Are you saying that I’ve met the first selfless noble?” He raised an eyebrow at Verde, challenging him.

  Verde couldn’t help but twist his mouth into a wry smile.

  “Maybe it’s your lucky day,” he replied. “Surely someone who has so much more life experience, compared to a recluse like myself, would appreciate the idea that they have not seen everything in life yet?”

  “Don’t get smart with me.” Wulfe narrowed his gaze at the other.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Verde feigned innocence as he shrugged his shoulders, before pulling his arms up in an attempt to gesture towards his throat. “Now, will you please let me go, before I'm choked out in my own hallway? I’m sure it won’t look good for Prince Theron if you cause any trouble during your visit.”

  He saw Wulfe regarding him for just a moment, as if assessing his situation, before he clenched his jaw and abruptly released the lord from his grip. As Verde slid back down to touch the stone floors, he began straightening out his clothes and dusting himself off, doing his best to ignore the pain in his throat.

  “Your words are not going to be enough to win over the prince,” Wulfe decred, his hands balled into fists.

  “Of course, I’m well aware of that,” Verde retorted without hesitation. He didn’t have the best reputation in his previous life, after all, and he knew that he would have to put work into gaining the trust of everyone around him, not just Theron.

  “You needn’t worry, I will prove myself to Prince Theron.”

  “That’s not my concern,” Wulfe scoffed, taking a step back from the other. When Verde flicked his eyes up to check on the other, he could see the knight was staring daggers into the ground. “You are so-” His brows were knitted into a deep frown.

  “What?” Verde hummed in question, making the knight pause in his ruminations, as he saw Wulfe shaking his head vigorously.

  “Never mind,” he groaned, rubbing his face with one hand. “It’s te. You should return to your chambers, Lord Emerys.”

  Verde studied him for a moment.

  Wulfe was certainly as mercurial as the st time they met before Verde’s death. Hot one moment, and then ice cold the next. It made him unpredictable, intimidating. Certainly not someone he would be comfortable sticking around. Verde was surrounded by enough uncertainties as is, Wulfe was a raging typhoon in an already stormy sea.

  And yet, he had to earn this knight’s favour somehow, just to get a step closer to his goals. No, just his recommendation to the prince was enough. A positive comment from his lips into the prince’s ears was satisfactory.

  “You’re right. Good night, Sir Alvar,” Verde nodded. He heard the other grunt in reply, as he turned his back on Verde and began traipsing back to the guest hallways.

  Indeed, it would be best to appease the hot-headed knight. Nothing more would be necessary, and Verde had much more pressing issues at hand anyway.