“Hitomi.”

It’s surprising, how the Heiress suddenly utter her future wife’s name. The aide standing behind her raises his eyebrows curiously, wondering if the owner of the name is the reason why Minjoo has been peering at the training ground for a good amount of time by now.

“What about the fire elementalist, Your Highness?”

Minjoo doesn’t immediately answer, but she does let out a low, non-committal hum at the question. Still, the aide watches at his master’s hands, clasping tight on her back, tightening at the loud screams and explosions coming from the court. It's none other than Hitomi, the fire elementalist Minjoo referred to. It's her routine, after all; helping Minjoo with her paperworks during morning until midday, then she will go down to train Minjoo's private army. Usually it's more of sparring matches rather than training routines, but sparring is a part of training, after all.

Usually, Hitomi is the victor of the many matches, but that doesn't mean she always left unscathed.

The aide wonders if the Heiress still cares for her future wife, despite her constant indifference she continuously showed to everyone. Minjoo is famous for her cold heart and demeanor, after all; a side-effect from the dual blessing the Gods granted her. She lost most of her humanity—leaving her a shell of a woman that is only great for exterminating enemies.

And then, there’s Hito