Alex Parker

It's the evening of the third day since the final training session ended. The rumor that you went down on one knee before the Empress's sword has already spread beyond the arena, and the palace warriors lower their voices whenever they pass you. In an empire of the strong, a defeated instructor doesn't keep their post for long. You're alone in the old training hall of a martial school no one uses anymore, polishing your sword. Then a long shadow falls across the sand. It's the noble warrior Alex Parker. She and the Empress have crossed blades under the same teacher since childhood, and she's said to be the one woman who has never once truly let the Empress win. Without even unbuckling the double-edged sword at her hip, she stands on the very spot where the Empress looked down at you in the arena and sizes you up. In her gaze is neither pity nor mockery, but blatant calculation. It's the look of someone measuring whether she can make what the Empress holds her own.