THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

David pushed open the door to his assigned room, the creak of its old hinges echoing down the dim hallway. The room was as Delilah ,the owner of the brothel, had described—shabby at best. A single flickering candle on a small, rickety table illuminated the corners, revealing walls stained with age and a ceiling adorned with cobwebs. The air smelled faintly of damp wood and something metallic, but David couldn't bring himself to complain. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, shutting out the lively murmurs of the brothel.

He sighed, collapsing onto the small bed with its worn mattress that groaned under his weight. Staring up at the cobwebs, David raised a hand, fingers tracing patterns in the air as he thought aloud, "Snow Devil." The words seemed to linger in the room like a phantom. His mind wandered back to Ced's story, the cursed princess turned legend, and the eerie snow-blanketed world outside.

"Is that my quest?" he muttered, his voice low. "To hunt the Snow Devil? But why? And why here, of all places?" He shook his head, his confusion mounting. It didn't feel right—nothing about this situation did. Ced had mentioned the devil, but David couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the man's story than he let on. His gut warned him not to trust Ced, especially with something this critical.

"If I follow him out into the snow, am I walking into a trap?" David whispered to himself, his brows furrowing. The system had thrown him into dangerous situations before, but this one felt different. More convoluted. More... human. He was still deep in thought when a sharp knock at the door snapped him out of his musings.

"Winter?" a soft, familiar voice called.

David sat up quickly as the door creaked open, revealing Brendah. She stepped inside, her figure silhouetted against the dim light from the hallway. A faint smile played on her lips as she leaned against the doorframe, studying him.

"You're not going to yell at me to leave?" she teased, arching a brow.

David blinked, confused. "Why would I? You told me you'd be coming."

Brendah's smile faltered for a moment, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. "You're acting strange, Winter," she murmured, but before he could reply, she shrugged it off, her playful demeanor returning. Without warning, she threw her arms wide and dove onto the bed, surprising David as her weight pressed against him.

"Brendah—" David started, but his words were cut off as she snuggled into his chest, her head resting just beneath his chin. Her warm breath tickled his neck, and he froze, unsure of what to do.

"You're warm," she murmured, her voice soft, almost vulnerable. "Warmer than usual."

David hesitated, his hand hovering awkwardly over her back. His heart raced, though whether from the situation or the mounting tension in the room, he wasn't sure. One thing was clear—this wasn't the life he knew, and it certainly wasn't the Winter Brendah seemed to know. As she lay there, his mind churned with thoughts of quests, curses, and the strange intimacy of this moment.

David hesitated as Brendah's words hung in the air. "Do you still hate me?" she asked softly, her voice wavering as she looked at him with an unusual vulnerability.

He took his time to answer, carefully choosing his words, his mind racing to piece together their supposed history. He didn't know Winter's feelings or the depth of their relationship, but he had to tread carefully. Finally, he asked, "Why would I hate you?" His fingers tentatively reached up, brushing through her dark chestnut hair. It was a gesture that felt oddly natural, as though his body knew something his mind didn't.

Brendah froze, her breath hitching at the unexpected tenderness. For a moment, she stared at him, her walls crumbling. This wasn't the Winter she remembered—the timid boy who blushed every time she teased him. He had always been an open book, pouring his heart out despite her constant rejections. His persistence had annoyed her at first, but slowly, his unwavering affection broke through her defenses. She had begun to see him as more than just a naive boy, as someone who genuinely cared for her in a way no one else ever had.

Then came the day she had shattered his heart. Winter had walked in on her with a customer, her work forcing her into an intimacy she didn't want but couldn't avoid. The look on his face—horror, betrayal, and heartbreak—had haunted her ever since. She told herself it didn't matter, that she couldn't afford to care. But Winter's love had changed something in her. She had vowed to escape this life, to find a way for the two of them to be free.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she didn't bother to hide them. David noticed, his own chest tightening as if sharing her pain. He didn't know why, but his heart ached at her expression. Was this Winter's love bleeding through him? Gently, he wiped her tears with his thumb and guided her to sit upright, both of them now kneeling on the bed, facing each other.

David softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Deep down, I know I don't hate you."

Brendah shook her head, her voice trembling. "Liar. I saw the way you looked at me that day. You were horrified."

David placed his hands on her shoulders, his gaze steady. "Maybe I was. But now..." His voice trailed off, and before he could second-guess himself, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Your adventure continues at empire

The kiss was soft, tentative, but it sent a jolt through both of them. Brendah gasped, her hands instinctively coming up to push him away as she jumped back. She touched her lips, her wide eyes filled with shock and something deeper—hope, perhaps.

Without a word, she bolted from the room, leaving David sitting there, stunned. He ran a hand through his hair, his heart pounding. "What the hell was that?" he muttered, trying to make sense of the strange pull he felt toward her.

Outside the door, Brendah leaned against the wall, her fingers still on her lips. A small, genuine smile spread across her face, one she hadn't worn in years. For the first time, she dared to imagine a future that didn't feel like an impossible dream.