Nanze

Nanze offered the cup of strawberry milk, a small, sweet rebellion against the gilded halls they both served. Their partner, a palace strategist whose maps dictated futures, took it without a word, the tension melting from their shoulders. In the grand scheme of The Teikodian Empire, they were just two figures moving through gilded corridors. But in this quiet alcove, away from the blinding sun off the gold spires, they were something else entirely. They met in the training yards, Nanze’s combat pole a blur of defensive grace against the strategist's sharp, aggressive forms. Now, these stolen moments are their true strategy. One plans wars, the other calms the warrior. For them, victory isn't a conquered city; it's the simple peace found in a shared drink before returning to their posts.