Rose blinked in surprise. It took her a moment to register what she was looking at. Standing in the doorway was a woman dressed similarly to the guards at least in color and overall look but it was completely different, and after a few blinks she realized by the guard’s pin over her left breast that this woman was another guard. Unlike Albert, the man before her clad in bulky iron armor, this woman wore something entirely different: a leather uniform dyed a striking yellow.

The leather bodice hugged her figure tightly, its corset-like leather armor pulling the waist inward to create a commanding yet graceful silhouette. Puffed shoulders lent a touch of regality, framing a high collar. Golden embroidery curled like delicate vines along the edges of the skirted jacket as it tried to hide the shocking fact that there were the trousers, practical and unadorned, underneath it.

Rose’s eyes darted to Albert as he straightened his back, stepping away from Rose. His uniform was the familiar one, the one all the guards wore. The blue colored jacket he wore was concealed beneath an iron breastplate. The only ornamentation being a bold gold trim around the blue fabric. His shoulders didn't have fabric puff but metal armor plates. His gloves, thick and rugged, mirrored the practicality of his belt and pouches—simple and functional.

Albert straightened abruptly, his smirk replaced by unease. “La—Ricaut,” he stammered, catching himself before addressing her the wrong way again.

The woman—Ricaut, Rose assumed—stepped further into the room, her gaze sweeping the scene with a sharpness that made Rose shrink into herself. The draft from the open door felt colder against her bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the chill in Ricaut’s eyes as they settled on her. Her eyes looking her up and down as her lips form a stiff frown.

“Enjoying yourself, Albert?” Ricaut asked, her voice like a blade, cold and cutting.

Albert’s response came quickly, his voice smooth and practiced. “Just conducting an inspection,” he said, nodding toward Rose with mock professionalism. “Though this one required a closer eye due to her injury. Horribly out of place.”

Rose’s stomach twisted at the blatant lie. His tone was so convincing, so casual, that she almost laughed at the absurdity of it. She knew better than to trust anyone here, but something about Ricaut’s icy demeanor made her wonder if this time might be different. She dared a glance at the female guard, only to find her sharp eyes narrowing. Rose’s cheeks burned with renewed shame, and she dropped her gaze to the floor, unsure of what to do, let alone whether to redress herself.

Ricaut scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. “I’m sure,” she said, her words dripping with disdain. She turned back to Albert, shaking her head as if disgusted. “I assume she has an employee pass?” Her tone made it clear she wasn’t asking.

Rose couldn’t help but enjoy watching Albert squirm as he hesitated for the briefest moment before showing her the iron plate in his hand.

“Yes,” he said reluctantly, handing it over. “She’s known to come by, but—”

“Quiet,” Ricaut snapped, cutting Albert off mid-sentence. She turned the pass over in her hands, inspecting it with a frown. “The public library,” she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “How quaint.”

Her sharp eyes shifted to Rose, who suddenly felt very naked. Rose could only spare a fleeting glance before lifting her arms instinctively, a feeble attempt to cover herself. Her ears burned with shame she hadn’t felt in years.

Albert opened his mouth as if to argue, but Ricaut’s glare silenced him before he could speak. “You’re done here, Albert,” she said curtly. “Go.”

“But Lady—I mean Ricaut, there’s really no reason—” Albert began, only to be silenced by her glare.

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“The next thing you should be doing is walking,” Ricaut interrupted, her tone as firm as iron. There was no room for argument.

For a moment, Albert stood frozen, his face a mix of frustration and embarrassment as Rose was shocked at the fact that this woman guard was also a noble. Didn't they have their own order, why lower herslef to being a guard?

With a grudging nod, Albert’s jaw tightening in barely concealed frustration. “As you wish,” he muttered. He turned on his heel and left, grumbling under his breath as the door clicked shut behind him.

For a moment, Rose stood frozen, her heart thudding faintly. A cautious flicker of hope stirred within her chest, its warmth so foreign it felt almost unwelcome. “I didn’t know they hired female guards,” she blurted out awkwardly.

Ricaut’s head snapped toward her, and Rose instantly regretted speaking. The guard’s expression turned colder, her disdain palpable. “I didn’t know the Archekaasè hired whores,” Ricaut spat, the words striking like a physical blow.

Rose’s mouth fell open in shock. “I—”

“Quiet,” Ricaut snapped again, raising a hand to silence her. “I don’t care. I’m here to put an end to this foolishness. These men are here to work, not to play.”

Rose blinked, trying to process the situation, but Ricaut was already turning away.

“Get dressed,” Ricaut commanded, her voice clipped and icy. “And know that your services will no longer be required at this gate.”

The female guard strode toward the door, pausing it open as she stepped in the doorway. “You’ll be dealing with me now, so don’t expect any more of these ridiculous benefits,” she added curtly before slamming the door behind her.

For a long moment, silence blanketed the room. Rose stood still, her gaze fixed on the closed door. Her lips parted slightly, and she murmured, almost inaudibly, “I’m not a prostitute.” The words felt hollow, slipping into the empty space like a forgotten whisper. But no one was left to hear her.

Her chest rose and fell erratically, exhaustion making her breath shallow. She swayed slightly, the room tilting as a strange bubble of laughter welled up inside her. It escaped, soft at first, then louder, echoing in the small, barren room.

She clutched her side, her injured hand trembling, sending fresh jolts of pain radiating up her arm. Tears pricked her eyes—not from the pain, but from the absurdity of it all. She bent down, awkwardly fumbling with her clothes, her movements clumsy as she tried to dress with her broken hand. The giggles came in fits, slipping out unbidden, on a line between laughing and sobbing, shaking her even as she tried to suppress them.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself, her voice rough and uneven. “Sure, I was mistaken for a prostitute, but…” Her words faltered, and a wry, almost bitter smile ghosted across her lips. “There’s a female guard. One with actual power.”

That realization felt… strange. Ricaut might be cold, rude, and callous, but if she could end the harassment, she would welcome the bitch with open arms. The laughter ebbed as she pulled on her cloak, notes of joy could be heard in it this time. “Maybe,” she murmured with a faint smile, steeling herself as she opened the door. “Today isn’t so bad after all.” a simple was on her face as she left the room.

The moment she stepped out her injured hand brushed the door frame, a sharp jolt of agony shot through her arm, and she hissed, sucking air through gritted teeth. “Okay, today’s miserable,” she spat under her breath. “But at least it can't get any worse. Can it?”

As she reached the guard sitting at a table by the door, he gave her a knowing smirk. “Morning, Rose. How’s Albert?”

Her jaw tightened, but she forced a smile. “Same as always,” she replied, her voice level. Mentally flipping him, and everyone else that wore that damn uniform, off.

The cool air outside hit her like a slap, sharp and bracing. It swept away the stale, oppressive smell of the room, and for a brief moment, she felt the smallest hint of relief. She inhaled deeply, savoring the crispness, as her eyes adjective to the disorienting brightness. Yet, her vision blurred as she exhaled and her knees wobbled slightly. She blinked hard, shaking her head to clear the fog.

Everything sharpened again and for a moment the only thing that bothered her was the exhaustion, but she could sleep after. “I'm sure the bed is nice and warm right now.” she muttered, strapping ahead. Her body ached with every step, her hand throbbing in time with her heartbeat. She had to make it back to work. Because no matter how bad today felt, it wasn’t like she had the luxury of resting.

She had to keep going, just a little longer.

Just a little bit more.

Soon.