The morning sun slanted through the high windows of House Veyrin's estate, casting golden streaks across the polished floors. Noah followed silently, his boots echoing against stone, as a servant guided him to the private chambers of his new charge.
And there she was. Euphemia.
She sat cross-legged on a velvet cushion, brushing her white hair, golden eyes glinting with amusement. The moment she looked up, her gaze locked on him like she could see straight through his wary, guarded heart.
"You must be Noah," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. "The famous knight drafted for the useless Euphemia. I've heard of you… though I hear the stories make you sound far less competent than you look."
Noah's eyes narrowed. "I assure you, Lady Euphemia, I intend to serve to the best of my ability. I am not… incompetent."
"Ah, of course," she replied, her lips curling into a mischievous smirk. "You say that now. But I do hope you can handle a challenge. I do enjoy watching others fail spectacularly."
Noah clenched his jaw. Already a handful, he thought, though part of him was strangely entertained.
"Your tongue wanders too freely for a lady I am pledged to serve," he remarked, his tone clipped, though a faint smile threatened the edges.
"Oh? Am I to tremble in fear of my knight?" Euphemia tilted her head, golden eyes sparkling with mockery. "I'm rather disappointed. I expected more drama, perhaps a bit of flair. Not… this grumpy silence."
The bickering continued, words volleyed like light blows in a fencing match. Yet beneath the teasing, Noah began to notice subtle things: the way she flinched when a passing servant looked at her, the quiet sighs when her older relatives' voices carried down the hall. Euphemia may tease, but she bore her own weight of suffering.
It became clear—she was not treated well in her family. Whispers from the servants, cold glares from distant relatives, and even the careless way her attendants spoke hinted at a life constrained by duty rather than affection.
Noah's chest tightened. He couldn't explain why, but something about this mischievous, spirited girl sparked a protective instinct he hadn't felt in years.
"And one more thing," Euphemia said suddenly, leaning forward with a sly smile. "If you're going to be my knight, you must learn to endure my teasing. I'm hardly going to make things easy for you."
Noah exhaled, shoulders stiff. "I… will endure. That is my duty."
She laughed, a melodic sound that seemed to fill the room. "Good. Then let us see if you can keep up with me, Noah of House… well, of whatever house they claimed you belong to."
As the morning sun bathed the room, the white-haired, golden-eyed noblewoman and the low-grade knight began their dance of words—teasing, bickering, and testing each other in ways neither expected.