I knew this was part of the job. I knew it. But I still don’t want go anywhere near her despite the fact she’s my favourite character or that I’m her personal attendant.
We walked past an ornate double door, then took a sharp right down a corridor with tall windows overlooking the frozen training grounds. The further we went, the more silent it became—like the entire manor was holding its breath.
No echo of boots down the hallway.
Just snowflakes tapping against the windowpanes.
Eventually, Hans stopped in front of a thick, carved door marked with a silver crest—a dragon coiled around a northern star. The emblem of House Draken.
He gave a sharp knock.
"Lady Alice, may I enter?"
When the door opened, I braced myself. I didn’t know what I was expecting—maybe lace curtains, perfume bottles, a wardrobe bursting with dresses, the kind of frilly, jewel-encrusted decor noble ladies usually went for.
This wasn’t anything like I imagined.
The room was spartan. Clean. Minimal. Cold, even. Weapons lined the walls like it was a miniature armory—swords, spears, shields, bows. Some glimmered faintly with enchantments; others looked worn, chipped from real battle.
If you told me this was a knight’s private training hall, I’d have believed it.
And then there was her—Lady Alice.
Sitting on a bench near the far wall, arms crossed, gaze sharp.
Even in her relaxed state, she radiated the kind of pressure that made your back straighten without realizing it. And—damn it—beautiful. The kind of sharp-edged beauty that made you forget what you were supposed to be doing if you stared too long.
’Nope. Don’t even go there.’
I quickly bowed my head.
If I stared for more than a second, I had the distinct feeling my head would part ways with my body.
"I didn’t expect to see this guy here too," she said casually, eyeing me.
I stood straighter. "Julies Evans, assigned as Lady Alice’s personal servant," I said, almost by reflex.
"There’s no need for introductions. We’ve met. Save the formalities."
She stood and stretched her arm out.
I handed it over, still a little dazed by how fast everything was happening.
"And you’re coming with me for the Successor Trial."
My brain did a quick rewind.
"Successor Trial...?"
But she didn’t elaborate. She turned her back and moved behind a divider to change, disappearing from view.
Hans tapped my shoulder. "Come."
We stepped outside the room, leaving her to change in peace.
It was just me and Hans in the corridor now, the air colder than before.
"You don’t need to ask permission every time," he interrupted without looking at me. "Just ask your damn question."
"Okay, um—what exactly is the Successor Trial?"
Hans let out a slow breath, like he was deciding whether to bother explaining or just let me suffer.
"Every noble house has a way of choosing its next heir. In House Draken, the Successor Trial is how that’s done. It’s not just ceremony—it’s a test. Of strength, judgment, willpower. And failure can mean disinheritance... or worse."
I gulped. "And I’m going... why?"
"Because she chose to bring you. And you are her servent and she’s your master. That’s all the matters.
"That’s all that matters?!"
He gave me a sidelong glance. "You’ll understand when it starts."
"I hope I do but can you explain in me simple words so I can understand?"
Hans couldn’t help but sighed.
"Look, I don’t know how in the west nobles choose their next hair but here it’s different. When somone from noble family become right at age they have to prove themselves as a candidates for new successor."
"....And how they do that?"
"It’s simple. Nobles have to kill a monster to prove their strength, to prove that they are one of worthy candidates for the next head title."
Oh shit! Monster hunting?
These guys are really crazy! And I also have to go with her.
"This was the special day I talked about earlier."
I stared at Hans like he’d grown two heads.
This was the "special day"?
My legs suddenly felt heavier.
"And I have to... go with her?" I asked, just to be absolutely, painfully clear.
Hans gave a curt nod. "You’re not just going. You’re assisting her. That means carrying supplies, preparing her gear, and—if it comes to it—keeping her alive."
My jaw dropped. "Keeping her alive? She’s the one with the magic armor, a wall of weapons, and a bloodline blessed by whatever northern war god you people worship! I’m just—"
"A servant. Yes," Hans interrupted, his tone dry. "But servants who fail on a day don’t get second chances."
That shut me up real fast.
Behind us, the door creaked open. Alice stepped out.
She was already dressed in the armor I’d brought—sleek, polished, and impossibly light. On her, it moved like a second skin, every joint perfectly fitted, every curve molded to enhance speed and precision.
Her long hair was tied back in a sharp braid, and she carried a blade at her hip I hadn’t seen before—a narrow, curved sword with a faint blue glow running along the edge. Enchanted, for sure.
"Are we ready?" she asked, her voice sharp.
Hans straightened. "Everything is prepared. The gates have already been opened."
She turned to me next. I stood at attention by instinct.
"Julies. You’ll carry my pack and follow exactly as I say. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Don’t interfere unless I tell you to. And if something tries to kill you—run."
I swallowed. "Y-Yes, Lady Alice."
A glint of amusement flickered across her eyes. Just for a second.
Then she brushed past me, her cloak fluttering like a shadow behind her.
Hans motioned for me to follow. "This way. The trial begins at the mountain’s base."
I blinked. "Mountain?"
"Yes. You didn’t think we were hunting squirrels in the garden, did you?"