Left strike, right strike, block—one foot back.
"Good job," Sera said, her voice calm, almost melodic.
Elera followed every command with effort, sweat beading down her temple.
When she caught Solved watching, she straightened, grip tightening on her blade.
But when his gaze drifted toward Sera, her shoulders sank—like she wasn't sure who he was truly watching.
He'd expected her to be harsher, maybe even reckless, but she was patient. Kind. Too kind.
Tch. Manipulating her, maybe, he thought, tracing the scars along his knuckles.
Or is it just me.
Then something in him stirred. His gaze sharpened.
[Truth Sight: Active]
[Target: Sera]
[Reading—Caring. Love. Genuine.]
What? His breath caught. That can't be right…
He tested the waters. "Nice job, Sera," he said casually his arm still folded leaning against the wall.
She turned, smiling from eye to eye. "Thank you, Mr. Solved. Good to see we're getting along."
Solved gave a small nod—then the reading flickered.
[Truth Sight: Emotion Scan]
[Target: Sera]
[Reading—Hatred. Disgust. Trauma.]
He froze. The emotions tangled in ways he couldn't read.
Hatred and care—toward him? Or herself?
"Trauma…" Solved muttered under his breath. "Guess everyone's got one."
His expression softened as he leaned back, watching quietly while Elera continued training under the sun's glow.
---
"Time's up," Sera said, stretching her arms. "Take a break."
"Okay, miss—"
"It's Sera," she corrected with a faint smile.
"Good job," Solved said as he approached. "Elera, you were good."
He gave her a light pat before turning his gaze to Sera.
"I was wrong. You're… a good person."
"It's nothing," Sera waved him off, lowering her gaze slightly.
"Elera, go rest. I need a word with your instructor." He look down to meet her eyes.
She nodded, then turned to the royal guards by the door. "You may leave."
The soldiers bowed slightly and exited, the heavy doors closing with a dull thud that left only echoes and silence.
Solved didn't speak. He just stood there—watching. Reading. The quiet pressure made Sera shift slightly, though she tried to mask it.
"What do you want to talk about?" she finally asked.
No reply. His stare didn't move.
"It's nice we're getting along, right?" she added, voice tight.
He exhaled, almost disappointed.
"You can drop the act," he said quietly. "I know you hate me. I know I disgust you. And… I know it all ties back to trauma."
Sera's expression hardened. "Why don't you just keep reading my mind and find out?"
'I believe in privacy." Solved said sharp but calm. Let her think I can read thoughts—it makes things easier.
He began circling her slowly, every step measured.
"I'm not here to make enemies, Sera. But I want to understand."
He stopped behind her. "Why do you despise me… when I don't even know you?"
"Let's just say I'm a feminist," Sera said, arms folding.
"But you don't seem to have any problem with Roderick, do you?" Solved's tone was calm, but his eyes sharpened.
Sera didn't answer. She didn't have to. The silence told him everything.
"From what I can tell," Solved said, stepping closer, "you might even be friends. Explains why he knows your little secret—about not being from this world."
Her jaw tightened.
The pieces fit too neatly. Roderick had mentioned Tokyo once—something no one here should know. And Sera… she was the only other person in the palace who carried that same air of displacement. She wouldn't have told anyone that unless she trusted them.
Sera exhaled sharply, trying to keep her composure. "You done with your interrogation?" she asked, eyes narrowing.
"No," Solved replied. "Bear with me. Just one more question."
She raised a brow, impatient. "What?"
He met her eyes.
"How did you die in Tokyo?"
The words hit like a blade.
Sera froze—breath caught. Her eyes wavered, the mask cracking as memories clawed their way up. Her hand twitched, knuckles white. For a moment, she looked like she might cry.
Then she clenched her fists and turned away, voice shaking. "You really are cruel."
She stormed out, the echo of her steps lingering in the quiet hall.
Solved didn't follow. He just watched her leave, the faint shimmer of [Truth Sight] still flickering in his eyes—
[Emotion: unstable. Trauma surge detected.]
He sighed. Solved stayed in the silent hall long after Sera left. The air felt heavier now, her anger still clinging to it.
He thought back to her reaction—how it wasn't just anger, it was pain.
He'd seen that look before.
Not directed at a person.
Directed at a uniform.
He leaned on the nearest pillar, eyes narrowing.
"She doesn't hate me," he muttered, almost to himself. "She hates what I was."
The badge. The interrogation rooms. The false promises of justice.
Maybe she was one of those who believed in the system once.
Believed the police could save someone they loved.
Until it failed.
That would explain the disgust, the tension in her voice every time he spoke like an investigator.
Not him—his occupation.
Solved sighed, rubbing his temple. "Guess the past follows us both," he muttered.
The hall was quiet again—only his voice echoing faintly. Then a soft sound—footsteps, deliberate, careful.
"My lord?"
Solved turned. Ariel stood half in shadow near the doorway, her expression unreadable. She must have been there the whole time.
"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," he said tiredly.
"I wasn't sneaking," she replied. "Just... waiting."
He studied her for a moment, then sighed. "You heard everything, didn't you?"
She hesitated. "Enough."
Solved looked back toward the empty training floor. "Then make sure no one else does."
Ariel bowed slightly. "As you wish."