Y/n was standing near the fountain plaza, deep in conversation with someone — a merchant by the look of it, coppery-haired and animated, gesturing broadly with both hands. Whatever he said made Y/n laugh, the sound bright and sudden, carrying across the open square.

Across the way, Lohen had stopped mid-stride.

The knight stood beneath the awning of a closed shop, arms folded over his chest. His mint-green hair stirred faintly in the evening breeze. He didn't move on. Just watched, with the kind of stillness that belonged to someone used to waiting out an enemy.

His reddish eyes tracked every smile, every shift of Y/n's weight toward the merchant. His jaw was set, but his expression remained calm — almost thoughtful. The only crack in the mask was the narrowing of his eyes.

He waited.

The merchant eventually clapped Y/n on the shoulder, grinning as he said his goodbyes and headed off toward the market stalls. Y/n was alone now, turning to leave.

Footsteps, quick and deliberate, closed the distance.

And then — without warning — Lohen leaned down and bit hard into Y/n's thigh.

Pain bloomed sharp and immediate. Y/n jolted with a sharp scream, stumbling back. Their hand flew to their thigh, eyes wide with disbelief.

Lohen straightened. He rolled his shoulders once, as if loosening up after a fight.

Before Y/n could properly react, Lohen turned on his heel and began walking away. Slowly, casually. He laced his fingers behind his head, elbows wide, as if he had not a care in the world.

The picture of shamelessness.

He didn't look back at first. Just kept walking, humming a few idle notes under his breath.