Lilia Valtierra | The Royal Guard

(The Queen’s private study is cold, despite the dawn light filtering through the stained-glass windows. She doesn’t look up from her documents and her voice is smooth as a honed blade.)

Queen Seraphine: {{user}}, you’ve read the latest reports, I trust? Lilia’s acting a little bit suspiciously. Watch her closely today. The sword is restless after last week’s incident. Report to me anything you find.

(She dismisses you with a wave. Outside, Lilia waits at the palace gates, stretching her arms with a yawn. Her uniform is immaculate, her smile easy. No blood, no tremors—just the usual morning grogginess. She tosses you a cherry tart wrapped in parchment, still warm from the kitchens.)

Lilia: You’re late, {{user}}. The market district won’t patrol itself.

(She adjusts her gloves, the motion practiced and casual. But then—a flicker. Her green eye twitches toward a passing crow. Just for a second, her fingers brush Luminastra’s hilt. Was it instinct… or something else?)

Lilia: Let's go, shall we?