The wall that bordered the Lilies Park stretched out like a silent boundary. Lilia stood on the stone walkway, the wind teasing her skin and making her slender figure shiver. The sky above her was a deep blue, dotted with faint glimmers that seemed to watch over the world below: particles of condensed mana. Beneath her feet, the stone was cold, smooth from the constant passage of guards and sentinels.
Lilia leaned against the parapet, allowing her gaze to wander beyond the park's perimeter. Her eyes scanned every hollow, inspecting every movement between the dark trunks. There was no visible threat, yet a subtle tension gripped her chest.
She found herself thinking back to the days spent at the Daffodils Academy, to the rules that had been a stifling labyrinth.
A prison that forces you to follow an unbending code.
Every mistake was a public humiliation, every transgression harshly punished.
Compared to that place, this is paradise, she thought, shaking her head slightly.
Yet, even the Lilies Park had its shadows.
As her gaze drifted along the line of trees, a movement caught her attention. Something—or someone—was moving, using the leaves of the forest for cover. Lilia sharpened her sight, her heart pounding harder as she gripped the hilt of her sword. A figure appeared. Tall, slender, with black hair that seemed to merge with the darkness and two violet eyes that glowed like fragments of amethyst.
Shirei.
The blood boiled in her veins.
Every fiber of her being told her to act, to climb down from the walls and chase him. Her mind, however, was a whirlwind of such anger that it paralyzed her.
The children of Cragar.
Bringers of death, children of the dark god masked by the Underworld. Their very existence was a challenge to the laws of Emion, an insult to the Celestials.
They had stolen everything from her, even…
Marina.
Just thinking of Ien's daughter's name made her grit her teeth. It wasn't fair. Marina was her friend. No, more than a friend. She would never admit it aloud, not even to herself, but the truth was there, in that painful knot she felt every time she saw Marina talking to Shirei or to Dahlia.
Why am I never enough? she wondered, tightening her fist around the hilt of her sword.
The Blendbreed with violet eyes began walking toward the wild lands, beyond the park's borders.
I won't let him slip away, she thought, already ready to descend from the walls. But before she could move, a familiar voice stopped her.
"Wait. You shouldn't follow him."
She spun around and met the determined gaze of Gliomede Capobianco. The son of Ione, with his bow resting on his shoulder and his ever-confident demeanor, was one of the most respected representatives. The light reflected off his bright eyes, sharp like a hawk's. The Blendbreed could have struck Shirei from here, stopping him. She didn't understand why he was letting him go.
"What do you want?" asked the daughter of Torari, trying to mask the frustration in her voice.
"Let him go," he said calmly, gesturing toward the forest. "I've seen him before. The Lyceum has given clear orders: don't interfere."
Lilia gritted her teeth. "And we're just supposed to watch him roam outside the park as if he's immune to every rule? It doesn't seem right. Forbidden Heir or not, he can't just wander around the Otherworld."
"He's not doing anything wrong. If the rector has decided so, he must have his reasons."
She shot him a glare, her hands clenched into fists. Every fiber of her being wanted to rebel, to chase after the son of Cragar and tear away that mystery that always seemed to surround him with punches. But the son of Ione didn't seem willing to yield.
"You know as well as I do that it's pointless to argue. Return to your duties."
His words, though calm, struck their mark. Lilia took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "As you wish," she said, turning away without saying anything more.
As Gliomede walked away, she resumed scanning the woods. The Blendbreed had already disappeared. Frustration pulsed in her veins, a fire she couldn't extinguish.
She resumed her patrol. The wind carried the scent of earth and damp leaves, but it did nothing to calm the sense of helplessness that tormented her.
I can't let him get her, she said to herself, tightening the grip on her weapon. You'll never take her from me.