Amelia Indras Einhardt POV
The carriage rocked gently as it rolled through the paved streets leading toward the academy.
The curtains swayed with each bump, and inside, a certain wolf-eared girl was sprawled across the velvet seats, her tail lazily thumping against the cushion.
It flicked back and forth, steady and rhythmic, betraying a mood that could only be called good.
Amelia yawned, stretching her arms over her head.
The smell of the academy filtered faintly through the half-open window: paper, mana and that peculiar sharpness of autumn air.
For the first time in months, she wasn't surrounded by the stench of blood or the endless roars of monsters.
It felt strange, quiet even.
"...Boring," she muttered under her breath, though the corner of her lips twitched.
She had spent nearly the entire summer break at the borders of Einhardt, fighting wave after wave of monsters alongside the knights.
For anyone else, it may have been exhausting, but for Amelia, it was paradise.
There was nothing she loved more than a good fight.
The rhythm of battle, the heat of it, the smell of sweat and blood, it made her feel alive.
Or that was what she thought.
For some reason, even with all of that satisfaction, something had been missing.
And she knew exactly what.
"I wonder what he's doing right now…"
Her voice was quiet.
She could almost picture him, Soren, sitting somewhere quiet, probably playing with his magic again, a subtle innocence in his eyes that he didn't even seem to realise was there.
Her lips curved into a grin at the thought.
She wanted to see him again.
Just thinking that was enough to make her tail start wagging faster.
But then, uninvited, a voice echoed in her head.
It was her father's, the words he had spoken before she left.
– Make sure to bring that friend of yours next time. Your mother and I would like to greet him properly.
She remembered her father's expression as he said those words, and her tail froze mid-wag, her ears twitching.
"...Tch."
She clicked her tongue, tail falling limp.
Before her father had summoned her home, she had already made plans for the break.
The plans she had made with Soren.
She had been planning to go to dungeons with Soren; she had even made a couple of suggestions of her own as to which ones could be fun, but that all got crushed the moment she was ordered back home.
Two months.
Two long months without a single word from him.
For someone who had never had a friend before, it felt like torture.
It wasn't that she didn't have things to do; she hunted, she trained, she killed plenty, but none of it filled that quiet space that had appeared beside her when Soren wasn't there.
That, more than anything, had made her realise just how precious he had become.
Not in a romantic sense, Amelia didn't really understand that sort of thing yet, but in the same way one treasures a home, a place to rest.
That was Soren for her.
He was weak after all.
Weak and reckless.
He always stumbled into things that were far too big for him, always pushed himself until he broke.
Someone like that needed to be protected, Amelia thought.
"He better be doing okay," she murmured.
The carriage jolted slightly before slowing to a stop.
"Princess, we have arrived," the coachman called through the hatch.
Amelia blinked out of her thoughts.
She yawned once more, stretching leisurely until her bones cracked before stepping out.
The coachman bowed, and with that, the carriage rolled away, leaving her standing alone beneath the afternoon sun.
The familiar sight of the academy spread out before her: tall spires, polished stone, and the soft hum of students returning for the new semester.
It felt different from when she had left, livelier, maybe.
Or perhaps it was just her.
She took a deep breath and started walking, her boots clicking lightly against the cobblestone paths.
The autumn breeze brushed through her silver hair as she scanned her surroundings, yellow eyes darting between faces, halls and windows.
She was looking for someone.
Her pace was steady at first, then quicker, as if drawn by instinct; her tail swayed behind her, growing in anticipation.
It had been too long.
Too long since she had seen him, too long since she had felt that oddly calming presence of his.
And then, her steps halted.
There.
Through the library's tall glass window, she caught sight of that familiar head of white hair.
For a heartbeat, she froze.
Then, a grin spread across her face, a one similar to when she fought, a wild, yet genuine grin.
Her tail flicked sharply, then, without hesitation, she moved.
Each step was light but quick, her boots barely making a sound as she entered the library, her presence suppressed.
The scent of paper and ink filled her nose as she looked around.
She spotted him immediately.
He was sitting by the window, a few books open in front of him, his head resting on his arm.
He was asleep.
Her grin widened as she looked at him.
'Still weak… but he's grown a lot,' she thought to herself, amusement flickering in her eye.
She could see it; his frame was slightly broader, the scent of mana emanating from him had increased, and the calluses on his hand showed his effort.
Keeping her presence suppressed, she padded over and stopped beside him.
His breathing was slow, peaceful.
For a moment, she was tempted to shake him awake, her hand even lifted halfway before she caught herself, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.
Instead, she sighed quietly, pulling out a chair beside him, and sat down.
The wooden legs scraped softly against the floor as she slid the chair closer until her shoulder was almost touching his, then she leaned forward, resting her head against her arm.
And she watched.
It was strange.
Normally, sitting still made her restless unless she was sleeping, but when she was next to him, she didn't mind.
Watching Soren's sleeping face, the faint rise and fall of his chest, it was enough.
Occasionally, his brow furrowed, and his breathing turned uneven, sweat forming at his temples.
Amelia frowned, then, without thinking, she reached out and took his hand.
It was the same action she had done every time she saw him struggling.
The moment her fingers wrapped around his, his expression eased, and his breathing settled.
She stayed like that, holding his hand and watching him sleep, until her thoughts began to drift.
His frequent stirring in his sleep made Amelia think about what had happened before summer break, the demon invasion incident that took place during the final exam.
She had read the report, how six students had died, how Soren had been the one to lead the remaining students to victory.
She had meant to talk to Soren before she went home, but when she looked for him after the assembly, she found that he had already returned home.
Now, seeing the faint exhaustion still clinging to him, she couldn't help but wish she had put more effort into finding him back then.
Over the break, Amelia had come to realise something.
That most people weren't like her.
She was always vaguely aware of it, that she was strange, but she had never put much thought into it.
However, after spending so much time around the knights of her kingdom and the civilians who were scared of losing their homes to monsters, Amelia finally came to terms with the fact that she was different.
That normal people didn't find fighting fun, that normal people didn't enjoy killing.
And when she realised that, she also thought back on all of Soren's reactions, the way he acted whenever he fought, the hesitation in his eyes, the fear and guilt that filled him.
So now Amelia couldn't help but think that Soren had been struggling far more than she had realised.
Her smile faded as she brushed the cold sweat from his forehead with her sleeve.
Just then, his eyes flickered open.
Crimson met yellow.
For a moment, he looked confused, then alarmed.
His whole body jolted, the chair screeching as he shot upright.
The panic in his eyes was raw, instinctive.
"...Soren?"
Amelia's voice came out after a beat, startled.
She had seen that look before.
During the border skirmishes, in the eyes of soldiers who had woken from nightmares they couldn't escape.
Her teeth clenched, and for the first time in her life, she felt true rage.
A burning desire to kill whoever had caused her friend to suddenly act in such a way, to have such a look in his eyes when he looked at her.
But just as quickly, that anger faded when she saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes.
"Ah… Amelia," he said awkwardly, forcing a small smile.
The fear and anxiety that had been in his eyes only moments ago had faded.
Not disappeared, no, they were still there, but Soren was masking them, pushing those emotions down as he looked at her.
Amelia's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly at his reaction.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, her voice coming out surprisingly hesitant.
Soren bit his lip for a moment before responding.
"No, sorry… A lot happened over summer break."
The librarian's quiet "Please keep your voices down" broke the moment.
"Sorry," Soren said quickly, lowering his voice.
He sat back down in his chair, just a little farther away from her this time.
The movement was subtle, but she noticed.
Her brow twitched.
She scooted her chair closer.
He edged away again.
She moved closer.
Again, he moved.
It happened three more times before she finally growled under her breath.
"Stop moving."
He blinked, then sighed.
"...Sorry."
For a second, he just sat there stiff, then, as if making a decision, he stayed still.
Amelia shifted her chair one last time, slowly this time, closing the gap until their legs brushed against each other.
He flinched slightly at the contact, but didn't pull away.
'Good.'
Satisfied, she leaned sideways until her head came to rest lightly against his shoulder, the small thump echoing faintly in her ears.
Her expression softened.
Two months.
It had been two whole months since she had done this.
She had missed it.
The warmth, the quiet, the feeling of comfort that radiated from him.
Soren's body stayed tense for a while, then, gradually, it began to relax.
Silence filled the space between them, broken only by the faint ticking of the library clock and the occasional turning of pages from other tables.
When Amelia finally spoke, her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
"What happened?"
He hesitated.
She could feel the tremor in his shoulder beneath her cheek, and for a long time, he didn't answer.
Then, quietly…
"I… was attacked."
Her eyes lifted, but she didn't move her head from his shoulder.
He swallowed.
"After I left the Arden estate, I went adventuring. You remember, I told you I was going to try some dungeons?"
She nodded slightly.
"I did. It went well, but afterwards…"
His voice faltered.
Soren's trembling became more apparent, and she reached down to catch his hand, squeezing it gently in her grasp.
It was enough.
His voice steadied, and the trembling calmed, if only a little.
"A group of men… they thought I was a girl, and they…"
He didn't finish; he didn't have to.
Amelia's grip tightened, her nails pressing faintly against his skin.
Her tail went stiff, her breath shallow.
Her mind flashed with images of nameless faces, faceless men she would never meet.
Her chest burned with quiet fury.
"Which bastard… what happened to them?"
But when he continued, her anger froze.
"I killed them. All eight."
His voice was calm, almost empty, but his eyes were trembling.
She opened her mouth, then stopped.
The words she wanted to say, that they deserved it, died on her tongue.
The pain and guilt in his expression made her chest ache.
Although those people had hurt him in such a way, he was still agonising over his own actions.
Amelia let go of Soren's hand and burrowed her face deeper into his shoulder, her arms sliding around his back, gently pulling him toward her.
He stiffened for a moment, startled, then, slowly, he let himself fall into her embrace.
She wasn't good with words; she never had been.
How could she be? Soren was her first friend.
Until now, she had lived her life as a loner, someone whose only joy was fighting, so she had no idea how to act in situations like these.
That was why, at times like this, she imitated her mother.
When she was young and hurt, her mother had always done the same.
She held Amelia quietly, without asking for explanations or giving advice.
So Amelia did the same.
She didn't say "it's okay."
She didn't whisper, "You did the right thing."
She didn't tell him anything at all.
Instead, she patted his back, slow and steady.
Once.
Twice.
Her claws never extended, her movements stayed gentle.
Soren trembled once, then again.
And slowly, she felt the fabric at her shoulders grow damp.
————「❤︎」————