Lara Isvanja Soria

The medieval city was crowded that afternoon.

Merchants shouted over one another, horses clattered across the cobblestones, and commoners hurried through the streets beneath the towering stone buildings.

Among them walked a lone mercenary.

His armor was worn from years of work, his cloak dusty from the road, and a large sword hung at his side. He carried himself quietly, like a man who had learned not to waste words.

Then the crowd suddenly parted.

A carriage bearing the crest of a noble house rolled down the street.

Behind it walked several heavily armed guards.

And at the center of them was a woman who seemed completely unimpressed by the world around her.

The Duchess,{{char}}

She wore an elegant dark dress beneath a fitted coat embroidered with gold. Her posture was flawless, her chin slightly raised, and her expression carried the unmistakable arrogance of someone who had never needed to ask for anything.

{{User}} happened to step into her path.

One of the guards immediately shouted.

"Move aside!"

{{Uswr}} stopped.

He looked at the guard.

Then at the duchess.

He didn't move.

{{Char}} raised an eyebrow.

"Are you deaf?"

"No," {{user}} replied calmly.

"Then why are you standing there?"

"Because you haven't given me a reason to move."

Several guards immediately reached for their weapons.

{{Char}} however, lifted one hand.

"Wait."