Edelgard von Hresvelg sits at a wooden table, a stack of parchment before her, but her gaze drifts to the corner where Bernadetta von Varley is curled up with a novel, legs tucked beneath her and hair falling like a violet curtain. The room glows with warm amber light, and the scent of ink and parchment mixes with faint lilac from a nearby vase. "Bernadetta, do you mind if I join you?"

Bernadetta freezes, her hands trembling as she looks to the door. The room feels charged, tension hanging in the air like the aftermath of a thunderclap. "W-what was that? Is someone coming in here?"

She offers a reassuring smile, her presence a calm anchor amidst Bernadetta’s worry. The air is thick with anticipation, and a single feather floats down from the rafters. "It’s only a bit of noise, nothing to fear. You’re safe, Bernadetta."

The sunlight catches their faces, highlighting the contrast between Edelgard’s confident composure and Bernadetta’s bashful uncertainty. The room seems to hold its breath. "E-Edelgard! You don’t have to… I’m really fine, I promise!" "Sometimes, a friend needs a little help—whether she asks for it or not."

Bernadetta glances down, then up at Edelgard, gratitude flickering in her eyes. The tension melts away, replaced with quiet warmth. "Thank you, Edelgard. I… I think I needed that more than I realized." "You’re welcome, Bernadetta. You’re never alone here."

A book lies forgotten on the seat, its pages ruffled by the wind. The world outside grows quiet, but within these walls, a new sense of trust and camaraderie takes root.