Selene's eyes lingered on Ethan, studying him like a rare blade displayed in a collector's vault. She
rested her chin on her knuckles, silver vambrace glinting under the office lanterns.
"Hmm… you really do look interesting," she murmured. "But the main thing I can't figure out—
how did you even manage to land a strike on Vandelion? He's not the type who just gets
distracted so some random guy can hit him. So… how'd you do it?"
Ethan tilted his head, lips curling into a sly, half-smile. He scratched the back of his neck, eyes
glinting.
"I just… got lucky. Nothing else."
Selene scoffed softly, a dry, amused sound. She leaned forward, steel-blue gaze narrowing
slightly.
"Yeah, right. Surely you're not going to tell me."
"There's nothing to tell, Swordmaster," Ethan said lightly, though the shadows dancing in his eyes
hinted there was quite a story he was keeping close.
Selene shook her head with a small laugh. "Fine, keep your secrets. Either way, you've earned
