A sharp knock jolted Eren from his rest. The rhythm was crisp, authoritative—unmistakably someone used to command. Through the haze of interrupted sleep, he dragged himself to the door and pulled it open.
Commander Maria stood there, perfectly upright in her battle attire—leather and light metal plates over a tunic bearing the royal crest. Beside her stood Viva, holding two wooden training swords, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Did you sleep well, Veilwalker?" Commander Maria asked, her tone suggesting she cared little for the answer.
"Yes," Eren replied, rubbing the last traces of sleep from his eyes.
