Rufius sat in his study, his normally animated demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic stillness. His focus was sharp, like a blade honed for a singular purpose. In his hand, he held a parchment bearing the image of the beautiful woman with black hair, the very same woman who had apprehended a princess.
As he stared at the parchment, his thoughts raced. His brilliant mind was like a chessboard, each move calculated and precise, but his motives were hidden even from himself. Yes, he was so brilliant, he didn't even understand himself.
Harold entered the study, breaking the silence with a gentle clearing of his throat. "Rufius," he began, his voice calm and measured, "I couldn't help but notice that you've paid for someone to investigate the shire-reeve who took Princess Blanca."
Rufius glanced up from the parchment, his expression unfazed, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. "Indeed, I have," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "I want to know more about her, her strengths, her weaknesses. I have a feeling I'll have to face her in combat one day."
Harold, who had a deeper understanding of matters of the heart and human nature, regarded Rufius with a thoughtful expression. "Rufius," he said gently, "is that really the reason?"
Rufius blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed Harold's words. Was that really all? Yes, that's what mattered most. "Of course," he responded with confidence. "I need to be prepared for any potential threats."
Harold, ever the voice of reason, couldn't help but see through Rufius's façade. "Rufius," he said softly, "sometimes, our motives are not as clear-cut as we think. It's okay to feel... other things."
Rufius's brow furrowed in confusion. "Other things?"
Harold nodded knowingly. "Love, attraction, curiosity about someone you find intriguing. It's all a part of being human, Rufius."
Rufius's expression remained unchanged, though his eyes darted back to the parchment in his hand. He didn't understand these emotions that Harold spoke of, for he had always been guided by his unshakable confidence and logic.
If anything, Rufius had always been in love with himself.
But as he continued to stare at the image of the black-haired woman, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his fascination.
"Nope, I want to fight this woman. That's all. Nothing more. Also, why are you in my room?"
Harold sighed softly. "Rufius, you're not a student anymore," he explained patiently. "You're a professor at the academy. The headmaster sent me to find you because you've been absent for a whole month. You know he'll fire you if you keep this up."
Rufius leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly tapping on the parchment. "Firing me would be their loss," he quipped. "Besides, I've got more important things to attend to right now."
"Your students look up to you. You can't just disappear like this."
"I'll be back when I'm ready," he said dismissively.
"When is 'ready'?" Harold said, "I know you longed for a life of adventure but you're not a child anymore."
Harold soon decided to leave his friend to his thoughts, albeit with a heavy heart.
In the heart of the bustling Capital City of Silver Bride, a giantess stood in the shire-reeve precinct. Her presence alone commanded respect, her cool gaze and imposing stature leaving no room for doubt.
Fae Banba had just apprehended four thieves who had attempted to rob a local merchant's shop. Her strength and combat skills were unparalleled, and the thieves stood no chance against her. She had swiftly subdued them and now presented them in the precinct, each struggling to break free from her iron grip.
As Fae Banba entered, her footsteps seemed to shake the very ground beneath her. She had a voluptuous figure, her imposing physique accentuated by the shire-reeve uniform she wore. Her skin, as rugged as the mountains from which her clan hailed, was immune to the subtleties of poison and curses, and her wounds healed faster than any mere mortal's. Pain rarely registered on her stoic face.
Approaching the desk of the shire-reeve, Fae Banba gently deposited the thieves before him as if they were sacks of corn. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, almost as an afterthought. She often forgot she even carried it, preferring the raw power of her hands.
A seasoned shire-reeve officer looked up at Fae Banba with awe. "Captain," he began, "were you out on a walk?"
Fae Banba nodded, her gaze unwavering. She was a woman of few words, and her actions spoke volumes.
Entering her office, Fae Banba paused just before the doorway, her instincts kicking in. She reached up and placed her hand on the top of the doorframe. It was a habit she had cultivated over time, ensuring that her height didn't lead to unintentional mishaps.
As the only giantess in the bustling Capital City of Silver Bride, Fae Banba always watched out for doorways. The city was built for its predominantly numan population, and door frames and arches were often constructed to accommodate them. Fae Banba, however, had to be cautious to avoid an accidental collision.
She continued into her office. It was a spacious room with a desk, various law enforcement documents neatly organized, and a commanding view of the city beyond the window.
Fae Banba was a woman of few words, and she never complained about how her desk was a tight fit.