"Coming right up! Who is it?"

Nevia cleared her throat and called toward the door.

"Open up! It’s Princess Nina!"

A haughty, high-pitched voice came from outside, followed by impatient knocks.

"... "

That arrogant tone instantly brought the girl’s face to Nevia’s mind—delicate features, watery eyes, but chin tilted skyward as if the ceiling held all her interest.

"Got it, hold on—"

Hmph. Nevia rolled her eyes inwardly. She slowly tucked the dagger under the bedside table, then frowned. Not hidden enough. She moved it to a secret corner inside the cabinet. Finally, she checked herself in the mirror.

Her cheeks were flushed, looking drowsy from too little sleep.

She splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom. Instantly, she felt sharper.

By the time Nevia opened the door, a good while had passed. There stood Nina, her tiny face pouting and exquisitely furious. Chin high, blinking with pure arrogance.

"Why didn’t you open?"

Before Nevia could speak, Nina demanded it, her aggressive stance making Nevia feel like the guest in her own home. That aura of taking over was undeniably strong.

But Nevia wouldn’t back down. This was her space. And remembering how cozy Nina had been with her mom earlier? It made her blood boil.

"This is my house. My room. Why should I open for you?" Nevia shot back, eyebrow raised.

The air crackled with sparks.

Nina froze, mouth open but no retort coming. Nevia guessed she was spoiled rotten at home—never denied anything, hence this sky-high arrogance.

Hmph. Brats like this were the worst. The absolute worst.

"I want this room. Starting today, it’s mine." Nina’s lips parted, scrambling for words. Failing, she defaulted to her usual haughty glare and tried to push past Nevia into the room.

"Don’t you dare!" Nevia grabbed her arm, panicking slightly at the bold move.

"What are you doing?" Nina glared, fuming.

"That’s my line!" Nevia held her gaze without flinching.

"Fine! Listen up—I officially claim this room!" Nina’s eyes darted like a sly fox.

"Hah? Dream on!" Nevia bit her lip, each word sharp. "Are you joking?"

"I don’t care!" Nina stomped her foot, shoving forward. Nevia itched to smack this entitled brat.

"Enough, both of you."

A familiar voice cut through. They turned. Their mother (aunt) stood there, looking exasperated.

"Aunt!" Nina flung herself into her arms.

"Mom." Nevia muttered stiffly. Hmph. Not pouting at all.

"Nevia, be kind. Nina’s new here—a guest. Look after her." Mom glanced at Nina in her arms, then at Nevia.

"Mom…" Nevia shot her a betrayed look. Nina smirked triumphantly.

Mom sighed, then smiled. "Stop sulking. Take Nina for a walk."

"No way!"

They blurted it together, then glared at each other and turned away.

"You two!" Mom’s expression turned serious. "Nevia, get along with your cousin." She turned to Nina, who was gloating. "And Nina—you’re the older sister. Care for Nevia."

"... "

They exchanged glances: one pouting, the other huffing softly while looking elsewhere.

"Here’s what we’ll do. Go play outside. I won’t accept this attitude when you return. Understood?"

"Fine." Nevia grumbled under her mother’s stern gaze.

Nina nodded reluctantly, peeling herself from her aunt’s hug.

Mom ruffled both their heads with a tired smile, then gently pushed them out the door.

They walked along the stream into the village, ignoring each other completely.

Nevia calmed down. Maybe she’d overreacted. Why fight a kid?

"That’s Uncle Andel’s house. He’s a great carpenter—made most village furniture." Nevia pointed, sneaking a peek at Nina.

Ah, caught.

Nina paused, then gave a tiny nod.

"And that’s Leden’s place. His dad’s a town guard. Leden’s a chubby boy… kinda slow."

○

Nevia kept talking. Nina seemed curious, inching closer without realizing it. They ended up walking side by side, silent but no longer avoiding each other.

Maybe Mom’s words helped. Or maybe new sights diluted Nina’s stubbornness. Either way—a good sign.

They wandered farther. Ahead stood a stone building unlike the others—a castle-like mansion, huge and guarded by two rows of soldiers. Clearly noble territory.

"Oh. Uh… that’s Kaelen’s house." Nevia stuck out her tongue, quickening her pace to leave. But turning the corner, they crashed into a group of boys. Seven or eight, most in dirty rags. Leading them was a boy in a clean robe, radiating authority—except for his swollen, bruised face.

"Hey, Kaelen! Feeling better?" Nevia blinked innocently at him.

"... " Kaelen stared at them, wincing. "If ‘better’ means getting yelled at all day, sure. I’m great."

Nevia grinned. "This is Kaelen."

"Hello. I’m Nina." She offered a faint smile. "Nevia’s… cousin."

"So, Kaelen—wanna fight?" Nevia clenched her tiny fists, eyes gleaming.

"Ah… well…" Kaelen rubbed his sore spots, ready to refuse. But seeing Nevia’s mocking smirk, he found himself nodding.

"... Fine."

○

Before he could rethink it, Nevia was already smiling, stepping closer.

Their history? A tragic comedy—for Kaelen, at least.

He’d moved here three years ago. His family were nobles fleeing war-torn cities. He’d tried ruling the village kids, but Nevia never bowed. She hated his entitled attitude. Plus, her mom held a countess title—granted after saving the local duke. Technically, this land was theirs.

"Even a dragon bows to the local snake," Nevia mused. Kaelen’s family avoided conflicts; with the empire sliding toward civil war, peace here was precious. His guards ignored their squabbles. And Kaelen? He fought alone—nobles didn’t involve commoners in noble feuds.

Kaelen gritted his teeth and charged.

Nevia rolled up her sleeves. Nina gaped—she’d never seen a girl ready to brawl with boys.

Nevia felt a familiar thrill. Free punching bag! After days as the Demon King’s sparring partner, she itched for action.

Kaelen lunged, furious. Nevia met him head-on—then sidestepped at the last second, tripping him. He face-planted hard, limbs splayed like a frog belly-flopping into water.

Nina silently stepped back.

"You cheated again!" Kaelen scrambled up, yelling. The word "again" spoke volumes.

"Call it wisdom." Nevia shrugged, then clenched her fists playfully. "Still不服? I’ll gladly remind you."

Kaelen’s face flushed crimson. He struck a pose, muttering a spell. A tiny fireball flickered in his palm. Nina leaned in—impressed. At his age, this showed promise.

*Thirty years of training might make him a decent mage*, she thought. *Fire-type, too.*

But the fireball was pitifully small. Nevia puffed her cheeks and blew. Poof—it vanished.

Kaelen was enraged yet again.