Light barely pierced through the thick, dark clouds blotting the sky, leaving the lands below in a greyish gloom. The howling wind slowly picked up in strength, bringing with it ice and snow. A storm was coming.

Lightning flashed in the distant sky, illuminating a small figure moving on the side of a hill. The bitter wind flapped his ragged scarf. A small hand clasped it tightly, holding it in place. A second hand perched against his forehead, stopping the raging snow from blinding his sight. His bright blue eyes were calm, completely focused on the top of the hill.

A change soon occurred. Through the wind and snow, perched on top of the hill, a small silhouette was reflected in his eyes. A twinge of disappointment flashed across the boy’s heavily covered face.

‘Tsk… Why would someone be up here too? I thought they all hated storms.’ He kept trudging forward regardless, his expression betraying a hint of curiosity towards the figure up there. ‘It’s not like I can't share.’

With that, he tried pushing all thoughts behind him, focusing on getting to the top. He wouldn’t be able to stay there for too long; the orphanage had tactically agreed to his previous escapades, but loitering about during storms was where they drew the line.

‘Bunch of…’ His train of thought was cut short as he finally reached the top. Here he could see the figure much more clearly. It was about the same size as him, wearing a rather expensive-looking fur coat. Her luscious black hair, now dotted with white snowflakes, was partially tucked into her fur coat.

‘A girl?... What’s a child doing out here in the middle of a…’ He stopped himself there; he wasn't one to talk. Sighing, he moved beside her, taking in the view that kept him coming back here every snowstorm.

The snow danced according to the wind's will, covering the forest below in a thick layer of snow. Distant booms of thunder resounded across the forest, with the occasional flashes of lightning displaying a wide mountain range further down the forest. The boy stood there, entranced by the scene, only breaking out of it from the distinct crunching of snow beside him.

At some point, the girl noticed him; a look of shock and apprehension flashed across her strange off-white eyes. She took a small, unnoticeable glance at a point on the opposite side of the hill before heaving a small sigh of relief. The boy didn’t give her actions much thought.

“This is your first time here, right?” He could barely hear himself in the wind.

He looked at her, noticing her fair skin glowing in a healthy shade of red. She wore a scarf under the coat. All her clothes were very clean. ‘That’s… really rich.’ He felt a bit self-conscious, looking back down at his dirty scarf, patched-up sweater, and tattered trousers. The girl nodded her head slightly, “Yes.”

The answer shifted his attention back to her. He nodded in reply.

He paused, scratching his shaggy hair before continuing, “I know almost every kid in town, but I haven’t seen you before. Are you new here?”

The girl hesitated, touching her scarf nervously. “W-well, I…”

Her eyes unconsciously moved toward a location down the hill. This time, the boy followed her gaze. He spotted three men standing in front of a well-beaten path, a carriage lay behind them. Its horses shivering in the cold.

The boy suddenly squinted his eyes; the man in the middle looked very familiar. He looked around them for anything that could jog his memory. His eyes wandered before locking onto the insignia on the carriage; they widened in shock.

He looked at the girl incredulously.

“You’re a Noble!” 

He almost screamed, causing the girl to suddenly retract back in fear. Seeing this, the boy regained his senses. He stammered, 

“I-I'm sorry, My Lady.” He gave a clumsy bow.

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An aggrieved sigh sounded out, followed by a soft thud. Opening one eye from the bow, he saw the girl collapsed in a curled sitting position on the soft snow. He stood straight again, a surprised look crossed his face.

“Is there anything wrong? M-“ Before he could finish the sentence, her face grimaced, her fist tightened. Then it loosened, and her face became soft again. Tears slowly welled up in her strange eyes; an exhausted sigh left her lips.

At first, he was puzzled, then a contemplative look crossed his face before his face flashed with realization.

 “You… don’t like being called My Lady?” She blinked; the tears gathered in her eyes quickly slid down. She looked at him, her throat struggled for a bit before releasing a croaked sound.

 “Yes.”

He scratched his head but nodded understandingly; he didn’t think it was such a big deal. Looking back at her, however, he felt she had her reasons. He plopped down beside her.

'Everyone has their own problems,' 

he grimaced as his butt started feeling the backlash of sitting on pure snow.

‘Definitely not making it out of this one unscathed. Oh well, that’s the church’s problem, not mine.’ 

Lampooning, he looked at the girl beside him. He had her attention now.

“So what brings you up here?”

The girl shifted her gaze from him, taking it back to the carriage.

“I thought the view would be nice, Daddy thought so too.”

There was a silence before she continued.

"What about you?"

The boy scratched his head, looking at the mountains further down the forest.

"I guess the view too... and my Father."

The girl looked around in confusion.

"Where is he?"

The boy sighed.

"He isn't with me anymore, old man back in town said the barbarians took him."

He pointed towards a mountain in the distance.

"Right there, at least that's what the geezer said."

The girl grimaced.

"I'm sorry."

The boy waved her off dismissively.

"Don't be, it's not all bad now."

There was an awkward silence.

'Way to ruin the mood... .'

He looked at her side profile before gazing further into the distance, letting out a dry chuckle.

“You know, I don’t think I'd mind being called young lord. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

She let out a chuckle, looking back at him, “Is that so?”

The boy still stared into the distance. “Of course. Tsk… that old foggy back in town would finally give me the respect I deserve.”

And so they continued. Well, the boy did most of the talking, and the girl just answered, occasionally talking at length too.

“Ah, youth.”

One of the men standing in front of the carriage sighed; his aged voice carried a certain gruffness to it. He rested on a cane, his body wrapped in layer after layer of clothing. A grin stretched on his wrinkled face.

“Indeed, I've never seen her this happy since our last hunting trip.” The man in the middle of them spoke. His face had similarities with the girl’s face; his short raven-black hair was matched with a similarly colored beard on his face. His voice carried a faint but irrevocable confidence. His mouth perched in a small smile reaching his deep dark eyes. He looked rather young.

“My lord, the weather is picking up. That boy might permanently damage his bottom if we don’t act now.” The last of them spoke; it was a middle-aged man. He had greying but well-maintained hair, his chin shaved completely clean. He wore a padded leather jacket with a rifle slung behind his back, and a cross sword plunged into the ground beside him. His tone was stern but loyal.

“Oh, come on Seth. Don’t be a spoilsport.” The man in the middle complained, but Seth remained firm.

The old man broke their wordless battle, “Are you really planning on doing this, Vorken?”

The young man looked at him, his face becoming more serious. “We’ve already monitored him. It should be fine, besides it's better this way.”

Vorken walked calmly forward, Seth followed closely with the old man lagging behind them.

“Cassia! Cassia! we’re leaving now!” The man shouted. The wind carried his voice to their little perch on top of the hill, interrupting their conversation.

“Oh, I have to go now.” The disappointment in her voice was evident.

“Yeah…” It was the same for him. He scratched his head, looking at the now-standing girl before asking,

“Your name’s Cassia, right?” Their eyes connected for a moment, causing a brief pause.

“It is… what’s yours?” Her voice sounded embarrassed, mumbling something quietly after speaking.

“It’s Morven… My lady.” He ended with a smile, rewarded by a soft blow to his shoulder.

“Ow…” He feigned pain.

Cassia shook her head incredulously before sighing, “Goodbye, Morven.”

She did a slight curtsy. Morven was stunned before coming back to his senses. He gave a clumsy bow,

“Goodbye… Cassia.”

He looked at her, giving a smile before turning, going back down.

Suddenly, a strong, noble voice called out. “Wait.”

It still sounded loud, despite the bellowing wind. The boy paused; he knew that voice.

Immediately, he turned around giving a bow. It was obvious he put much more effort this time.

“My L-“ 

“At ease, boy.” Morven quickly stood up; a young man slowly appeared in his vision, standing a little in front of Cassia. A solid-looking fur coat wrapped around him, his raven-black hair already messed up by the wind. A mischievous smile stretched across his bearded face.

His eyes scanned the boy before letting out a chuckle. He bent down to reach the boy’s height. Morven’s legs unconsciously gave way to bring him lower than the lord. However, a strong palm grabbed his shoulder.

“Stand.” He nodded, straightening his legs to meet the man’s gaze. The man looked amused at him before speaking, 

“Well…”

“Morven, my Lord.”

“Morven, where are you going after this?”

He looked at Morven’s lowered head.

“The orphanage, My Lord.”

The man’s face grimaced slightly. It only lasted a moment, though; he continued.

“Hmm… are you willing to help me, Morven?”

Morven placed his right hand on his left chest, “I’m willing to do whatever task My lord assigns me.”

The man gave him an incredulous look, mumbling under his breath, “What in the world has she been teaching those poor kids.”

He let out an awkward cough, noticing Morven was still staring.

“You haven’t even heard my request,”

With the boy's attention on him, Vorken's face slowly turned solemn.

“I want you to follow me back to the manor and…”

His eyes moved to Cassia, who curiously looked back.

“You see that beautiful girl over there? I want you to protect her, protect her for me.”

Morven’s gaze looked back to the lord; his cold hand slammed against his aching chest. “By your will,” he bellowed, as much as the wind and his young voice would enable him to.

At some point in time, the old man appeared beside the child of noble birth. A faint smile of approval stretched across his lips.