The Visit

"The Grand Commander?" Ingrid thought. "But why?"

Turning to the dressmaker, Ingrid noticed the shock mirrored in the woman's eyes. She composed herself and addressed Danica, "Miss Danica, may I excuse myself for a moment?" she asked politely.

Danica quickly nodded, her eyes wide. "Y-yes, of course," she stammered.

Ingrid glanced back at the door and took a deep breath. "I'm coming," she announced.

She approached the door cautiously. Upon opening it, her eyes widened in surprise at the imposing figure before her. The Grand Commander stood there, clad in black armor that enveloped him completely, as if he had just returned from a mission of great importance.

"Grand Commander?" she inquired, her brows furrowed inquisitively.

"Greetings, Your Highness," Caym replied with a respectful nod.

Ingrid shot a quick, questioning glance at Jaquelyn, who was standing behind Caym. Their silent communication conveyed her confusion, as if she were sending a telepathic message, "Why did you bring him to my room?"

Jaquelyn met her gaze with a remorseful frown, silently pleading for forgiveness. Ingrid let out a sigh of resignation. Ingrid's gaze returned to Caym.

"Shall we move to the drawing room, Grand Commander?" Ingrid suggested, attempting to regain control of the situation. 

"I apologize, Your Highness, but this matter is urgent. May we discuss it here, now?" Caym requested.

Ingrid studied him intently, her mind racing with questions. "That urgent? How important is it? Can I decline?" she wondered.

She slowly turned to Danica, who stood behind her. "Miss Danica, it appears we will need to use this room for a while," she said.

Danica nodded quickly, her eyes wide with surprise. "T-then I will leave, Princess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and hurriedly retreated from the room, avoiding eye contact with Caym.

Ingrid sighed inwardly, wishing she could escape the tension that now filled the air. "Ah, she ran away so fast," she thought.

Ingrid's lips curved into a delicate smile, her gaze as calm as a millpond, yet her mind buzzed with a flurry of questions.

"Why is the Grand Commander here? What is the urgent matter?" she repeated, each word echoing in a frenzied chant.

Caym sat down comfortably across from her, his countenance as rigid as Ingrid remembered. 

"The Emperor's aide paid a recent visit. Did I err in some way?" Ingrid pondered, setting down her delicate tea cup with deliberate precision. "Surely, he isn't here to chastise me for daring to kneel before him?"

Lifting her gaze, Ingrid met Caym's glare, sharp as a dagger's edge. She maintained her outward calm, though the hairs on her arms and neck stood on end.

"Ah, why does he appear so furious?" Ingrid wondered, a deep desire to cry welling within her. "Should I avert my eyes? Why is he not speaking? Must I be the one to break this oppressive silence?"

With a concerted effort, she widened her smile, attempting to mask the trepidation in her voice. "To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit, Grand Commander?" she inquired, her voice as gentle as a whispering breeze.

Caym arched an eyebrow, his gaze momentarily drifting towards the boxes piled in the room. "It seems I have interrupted your affairs," he remarked.

"Not at all. Your presence is more important, Grand Commander," Ingrid replied, her voice steady.

Caym fixed his penetrating gaze on Ingrid. "You have a tendency to diminish your status in front of a servant, Your Highness," he observed.

"What servant? You are the Grand Commander, a position only below the royal family," Ingrid couldn't help but think.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Ingrid's features as she struggled to maintain her composure. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before responding, "Very well, Grand Commander. Formality it shall be. So, may I inquire as to why the Grand Commander has graced my room with his presence?" 

Ingrid couldn't ignore Caym's intrusive gaze sweeping across the room. "Isn't he incredibly impolite, barging into a lady's room and scrutinizing my belongings?" she pondered.

As if hearing her thoughts, Caym returned his gaze on her. Ingrid smiled involuntarily, letting her survival instincts take over.

"How many people do you allow in your room, Your Highness?" asked Caym, asked.

Ingrid's brows furrowed deeply, her attempt to maintain a smile fading away. "What do you mean by 'how many,' Grand Commander?" she retorted. "I am a captive princess. How many, in your estimation, are granted access behind these stone walls?" 

"Your Highness," Caym's voice brought Ingrid back to reality.

Ingrid mentally cautioned herself, "Ingrid, remember, you can't afford to explode in front of the Grand Commander. Do you really want to end up in the dungeon?"

Summoning her strength, Ingrid forced a smile once more. "In my chamber, only my servants and Her Highness Katarina are permitted."

Caym tapped the arm of his chair twice. "And who was that woman without a servant uniform?" he inquired.

Ingrid met his gaze steadily. "She's a dressmaker," she replied.

"Have you encountered her before?" Caym pressed.

Ingrid arched an eyebrow. "Am I under interrogation?" she retorted.

Caym nodded firmly. "In a manner of speaking, yes," he affirmed.

Ingrid couldn't help but suppress a frown, her thoughts echoing, "He's the one who emphasized formality. There's no harm in being a tad impolite, right?"

With deliberate slow motion, she bent to retrieve the teapot, pouring the tea into her cup at a glacial pace, savoring each wasted seconds.

Setting down the teapot, she fixed Caym with a polite smile. "No, Grand Commander, I haven't met her before. But may I ask why it concerns you?" she inquired.

Ingrid's breath caught as Caym's hand hovered over the teapot, his fingers curling around it while the other clutched the table's edge. Instead of pouring it into his cup, he directed the steaming liquid into Ingrid's, stopping only when the tea was about to spill over the rim.

"You shouldn't let strangers enter your room so easily," he said as he placed the teapot back and returned to his seat.

Ingrid stared at Caym, her brows furrowed and eyes glaring. "Why would you do that?" she demanded.

"So you wouldn't waste any more of our time," Caym replied.

Ingrid's jaw dropped as she shot up from her seat. Her voice rose, frustration boiling over. 'Why are you so rude?' she finally exploded, her finger jabbing accusingly at Caym.

"That's precisely the point. You shouldn't have," he replied, his expression unapologetic.

"Y-You! For your information, Grand Commander, you're the first man to ever set foot in my chamber! I allowed it only because of your esteemed position. Have you ever considered the fear your imposing armor and presence can instill in a lady? Imagine, an armed and armored man alone in a room with a woman. What recourse would I have if you decided to threaten me if I hadn't let you in? I. Was. Forced," Ingrid stopped, her finger still pointing at Caym.

However, Caym merely watched her, his expression impassive. "Your Highness, I suggest that you limit your interactions during the masquerade party of the Moonlight Festival. I fear what you might do to the poor ladies in the Grand Ballroom," he said calmly.

Ingrid lowered her hand, her glare cutting through the air. "I did not give you permission to dictate my actions," she retorted sharply.

"I am saying this for your safety, Your Highness," he said, his tone unwavering.

"Why do you even call me 'Your Highness' when you show me no respect?" Ingrid flared.

"'Your Highness' is a term for formality, not necessarily respect," Caym replied matter-of-factly.

Ingrid's brow furrowed deeply, her eyes ablaze with disappointment. "You," she she, her voice laced with disdain, "are the most unknightly knight I have ever had the misfortune to encounter."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Caym's lips as he rose from his seat. "Funny how everyone else calls me the greatest knight of the Empire," he said.

Ingrid was left momentarily speechless, her lips slightly parted as she tried to process the audacity of the Grand Commander's response.

As Caym approached the door, Ingrid's eyes widened with realization. "Wait!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the room. "How did you know I was going to attend the masquerade party?"

Caym paused, his gaze meeting Ingrid's. "Part of the job," he replied.