Major Invidia was a small woman.
Not delicate—never that. There was something sharp about her, something that made people instinctively straighten their posture when she entered a room.
Her black hair fell in smooth waves down her back, interrupted by thin streaks of pale green that caught the light like veins of something poisonous. Long lashes framed piercing green eyes—beautiful at first glance, but the longer one held her gaze, the more uncomfortable it became. There was always something calculating behind them.
Measuring. Comparing.
Her lips were painted a deep black, an intentional contrast against skin so pale it almost seemed bloodless. She moved with a feline grace, heels clicking softly against the polished floors as though announcing herself without ever raising her voice.
***
She entered Jeanne's office without knocking.
The door swung open with controlled force, not enough to slam, but enough to demand attention.
"Hey, Jeanne~"
Her voice was sweet—too sweet. The kind of sweetness that coated words like sugar over poison.
Jeanne stiffened almost imperceptibly before looking up from the papers on her desk.
"What do you want, Lily?"
Invidia's smile widened slightly at the use of her given name. Few dared to use it so casually.
"Ohhh, nothing." She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "I just heard some troubling news."
She circled Jeanne's desk slowly, heels tapping a measured rhythm.
"I heard my dear darling was injured."
The smile vanished.
Her expression did not fall into anger—not yet. It sharpened. Hardened.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you~?"
Jeanne's throat tightened.
"The Commander is stable," she answered carefully. "He's alive. Just unconscious. The doctors said he needs rest."
"Rest?" Invidia repeated the word as if testing it for flaws.
Her eyes flicked over Jeanne's face, studying every twitch, every swallow.
"You were there."
It wasn't a question.
"I was called in after the initial confrontation," Jeanne replied. "I wasn't part of the first response unit—"
"Then you should have arrived faster."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"If I were in your position…" Invidia leaned forward slightly, placing her palms flat against the desk. "I would have made sure no one touched him."
Jeanne's fingers tightened around her pen.
"I did everything I could—"
"I don't care."
The words cut cleanly.
Invidia straightened, folding her arms across her chest.
"I don't understand what he sees in you." Her tone grew quieter now—more dangerous in its softness. "If he would only open his eyes, he would realize I am superior in every way."
A flicker of something unstable passed through her gaze.
"Just as I return from deployment, I hear my dear little Daniel has been hurt." Her jaw tightened faintly. "How inconvenient."
The office door opened behind her. One of her soldiers stepped inside, saluting sharply.
"Major. We've received a new assignment. Immediate briefing required."
Invidia exhaled sharply through her nose.
"Tsk."
She waved him off.
"Reschedule it."
"Major, the directive is urgent."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"I said I will attend shortly."
The soldier hesitated only a second before nodding and hurrying back out.
Invidia turned once more to Jeanne.
"It was lovely seeing you~"
She blew her a kiss, lips curving in exaggerated sweetness.
But as she stepped into the hallway and the door closed behind her, the sweetness drained away. Her expression settled into something cold and resentful.
Jeanne released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and slumped into her chair.
"She's always like this…"
***
The hospital corridor was quiet, dimly lit by artificial light that cast long shadows along the sterile floors.
Invidia walked alone this time.
Her steps were slower.
Measured.
Controlled.
Two soldiers stood outside the Commander's private room. They straightened immediately upon seeing her.
"At ease," she said coolly.
She didn't wait for acknowledgement before pushing the door open.
The room was filled with the faint hum of medical equipment. Soft beeping punctuated the silence. White sheets. White walls. White light.
Commander Incarceratus lay still in the center of it all.
He looked smaller somehow beneath the hospital linens. Weaker. Vulnerable.
Her soldiers moved to follow her in.
She lifted a hand without looking back.
"Leave."
There was hesitation.
"But Major—"
"Now."
They exchanged a glance before obeying. The door shut quietly behind them.
The room felt heavier once they were gone.
Invidia approached the bed slowly, studying him.
So still.
So defenseless.
Her expression softened, but not with kindness.
"With them gone," she murmured, "we can finally talk."
She sat beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. Her fingers brushed through his hair, pushing strands away from his face.
"You always did look peaceful when you slept."
Her gaze drifted over the faint scar near his ear. Her fingers followed it, tracing the familiar line.
"I remember the day Father brought you home."
Her voice lowered.
"You were so pale. Fragile. That scar was still fresh." A faint smile tugged at her lips. "You clung to me like I was the only stable thing in your world."
She leaned closer.
"You looked at me like I was everything."
Her hand lingered at his jaw.
"But you grew."
Her expression tightened.
"You stopped looking at me that way."
The air shifted.
"And then she appeared."
The word came out brittle.
"That blonde."
Her nails pressed lightly into the fabric of the sheets.
"What does she have that I don't?"
Silence answered her.
She inhaled sharply.
"I protected you. I guided you. I endured the expectations so you wouldn't have to." Her voice trembled faintly—not from sadness, but from restrained fury. "I made sure no one dared to come between us."
Her hand hovered above his cheek.
"And you repay me by choosing her?"
For a moment, something conflicted flickered across her face.
Then—
Her palm struck his face.
The sound was sharp in the quiet room.
His head shifted slightly against the pillow, but he did not wake.
Her breathing quickened.
"YOU UNGRATEFUL F#CKING BRAT!" she screamed, voice loud and shaking. "YOU SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO YOUR BIG SISTER AND LEFT THAT BLONDE WH#RE ALONE."
She struck him again.
The second slap was harder.
"But you never did listen, did you?"
Her hands trembled now—not with weakness, but with a volatile mix of anger and desperation.
She leaned over him, her face inches from his. Her eyes glinted with hatred.
"You don't understand what I've done for you."
She took a deep breath.
Her fingers gently brushed his jaw afterward, as though soothing the very wound she inflicted.
"That's alright."
Her tone softened.
"You don't need to understand."
She traced down from his lips to his collarbone slowly, possessively.
"Soon, you won't have a choice."
Her eyes gleamed with success.
"I will remove every obstacle. Every distraction."
Her lips curved faintly.
"And then you will see clearly..."
She straightened, smoothing out her jacket as if nothing had occurred.
Composure returned like a perfectly fitted mask.
Before leaving, she glanced back at him one last time.
"So sleep, my dear Daniel."
Her voice was almost tender.
"Dream while you still can."
The door opened and closed quietly behind her.
Outside, her soldiers snapped to attention.
Invidia's expression was once again perfectly composed. Sweet. Professional.
"Shall we proceed with the mission, Major?" one asked.
She smiled gently.
"Of course."
As they walked down the corridor, no trace of what had happened inside the room lingered on her face.
Only in her eyes—just for a moment—flickered something raw and consuming.
Envy.