March 1st, 2012 — 8:27 PM
Imperial Palace — Chamber of Golden Dawn
Perspective: Rose Valentine
The heavy doors had barely closed behind my siblings before the soft rustle of silk announced the arrival of the consorts.
Anastasia Mooncrest entered first, walking with a fluid, unbothered grace that completely ignored the stiff etiquette of the room. She wore a loose, flowing gown of crimson and gold silk that billowed with every step, her rich chocolate-brown curls bouncing freely over her shoulders. Her emerald-green eyes scanned the room, instantly landing on Noctis with a bright, easy smile.
"You look like you're trying to scowl the gold leaf off the walls, Noctis." Anastasia said, her voice warm and entirely casual as she walked right up to the Emperor's side. "We could hear the tension from the hallway."
Noctis's expression softened further, the cold lines of his face relaxing in a way I had never seen when he looked at me. "You are exaggerating, Anastasia."
"Am I?" Anastasia giggled, resting a hand on the back of his chair, completely at ease. "I think Empress Rosaline agrees with me, even if she won't say it."
Rosaline remained silent, her posture perfect and remote.
Then came the chill.
Irena Seraphil stepped into the chamber. Her sleek, raven-black hair was pinned in a high, intricate updo secured by silver pins, leaving not a single strand out of place. Her high-collared gown of deep sapphire and starlit silver looked as if it had been tailored to restrict any unnecessary movement, casting a stark contrast to Anastasia's loose silk. Her violet-purple eyes were calm, measuring the room in a single, silent sweep.
"Good evening, Noctis. Empress Rosaline." Irena spoke, her voice carrying a smooth, calculated precision. She offered a flawless, low bow that perfectly met the requirements of imperial protocol, yet her eyes remained cool and sharp.
"Good evening, Irena." Noctis replied, his tone respectful, acknowledging the sharp administrative mind that backed his southern reforms.
Rosaline gave a neutral, slow nod. "Consort Irena."
Irena straightened, her gaze sliding over the siblings before settling on me. Her lips curved into a polite, poisonous smile. "It seems the Crown Princess is here as well. I trust your studies at the academy have been... productive, Rose."
"They have been, Consort Irena." I answered, keeping my voice level and polite.
Anastasia turned her head, her green eyes softening as she noticed me standing several paces away from the family circle. "Rose, sweetie, why are you standing all the way over there? Come closer. Your father is in a rare good mood today."
She's trying to be kind. I know she is. But it only makes the distance feel wider.
Before I could move, Irena's smooth voice cut through the air. "Anastasia, do not drag the Crown Princess into domestic displays. She is the Empress's masterpiece, after all. She doesn't have the luxury to squander her time on simple family greetings."
The words were polite, grounded in court language, but they stung. She was mocking my isolation, framing it as royal duty.
"Thank you, Consort Anastasia," I said, keeping my hands clasped in front of me to hide the slight tremor in my fingers. "But I was just preparing to return to the academy. I do not wish to interrupt your evening."
"Let her leave, Anastasia." Noctis spoke, his voice turning cold and flat. "A daughter who brings mediocre results to this family has no place at a celebration. If she has time to stand around and demand emotional comfort, she has time to return to her studies and correct her failures. Warmth is for those who earn it through results. She is undeserving of it."
Undeserving.
My own father. He didn't even look at me. He just dismissed me like a useless failure.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask him why he could hug Iris, why he could smile at Seraphina, but only had coldness for me. Was it my fault? Was I really just a failed vessel to them?
I looked at my mother, Rosaline. She sat there, staring blankly ahead, not saying a single word to defend me. She didn't care. None of them cared.
I forced my face to remain frozen, a mask of perfect royal indifference, hiding the raw, burning ache in my throat.
"Papa," Iris spoke up, her hand still resting on Noctis's arm. "We must all have dinner together tonight. I have missed you so much, and my dear sister Rose too. Can she not stay for just 1 meal?"
She's playing the sweet, caring sister. But her eyes are fixed on me, filled with a quiet triumph.
"Besides," Iris continued, her voice turning bright and eager, "may Asylym join us as well? He has just finished his training shift in the outer ward."
Noctis's face softened instantly as he looked down at Iris. "Asylym Vexley? If he is in the palace, he is welcome. Let the boy be summoned."
I tightened my grip on my own hands.
Asylym Vexley. The son of the 1st ranked knight of the empire. He was 18, much older than Iris, yet he had accepted her proposal for marriage. He was a cold-hearted prodigy, training day and night to surpass his father's unbeaten legacy as the strongest knight of the realm.
A Knight of the Realm was a title reserved for the elite. They wielded transcendent-rank magic and physical combat skills that placed them just below beyonders. Asylym was already rumored to be matching them in spar sessions.
Iris turned to me, a sweet, poisonous smile on her face. "I really wanted you to meet him, sister. He has heard so much about the brilliant Crown Princess who leads Class A. I thought it would be nice for you to see the kind of support I have."
A warning. She's showing me her shield. A transcendent-tier blade bound to her by marriage.
"He is a capable warrior," Noctis noted, standing up from his seat. "We should head to the dining hall. The kitchen has prepared the southern vintage."
Noctis walked forward, Iris clinging to his arm as he guided her out of the chamber. Anastasia and Noctis shared a quiet, casual laugh as they walked, while Irena followed close behind with Zeus.
Rosaline stood up slowly, her sapphire gown whispering against the floor as she walked out without a single glance in my direction.
I followed several paces behind, a ghost trailing in the wake of the imperial family.
As we walked down the grand, vaulted corridors of the palace, the red carpet beneath our feet felt incredibly cold.
Seraphina slowed her pace, falling back until she was walking right beside me. Her chocolate-brown hair shifted as she tilted her head, her emerald eyes looking at me with a soft, patronizing concern.
"Rose," Seraphina began, her voice quiet. "I wanted to congratulate you on the dungeon exam! I know the court has been whispering about the results, but you still cleared the floors! You must have worked very hard!"
Always the diplomat. Always pretending to care...
Before I could answer, Zeus stepped up on my left, his broad frame casting a heavy shadow over me. He let out a sharp, mocking scoff. "Don't waste your breath, Sera. She got lucky. The elves and other races did all the heavy lifting, and she just stood back and took the credit. Even the faculty had to step in afterward to clean up the mess. It was pathetic."
"Zeus is right." Iris added, slowing down to join the circle, her indigo eyes shining with calculated malice. "And besides, I hear Class C has a student named Elfina Lunaris who is far more capable. A commoner who solved a Level 1 Celestial Paradox on her entry exam. It would be a shame if the Crown Princess of the empire were outshone by a magicless girl's toy."
Iris leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sweet whisper. "Are you sure you can survive there, Rose? Or is the pressure of Class A too much for you? If it is, Papa can always bring you back to the palace. We would hate to see our perfect sister to be a disgrace to the royal family."
My chest felt tight, but I forced my posture to remain upright, my voice flat and cold as I looked at them.
"The academy is a testing ground, Iris. Class A does not concern itself with rumors, nor do I require the palace to shelter me. Enjoy your dinner."
We reached the entrance of the grand dining hall. The doors were held open by two armored guards, revealing a massive table lit by floating mana candles and laden with silver platters.
Iris stepped ahead, giving me a sweet, parting smile.
"We will, dear sister." Iris whispered, her eyes flashing with victory.
"Enjoy your walk back to the academy. It is a very long, cold road."
I had no choice but to step through the threshold after her. Noctis had ordered us to the dining hall, and disobeying his direct command in front of the guards would only invite more wrath. I was trapped, a silent guest at a table that did not want me.
The dining hall was a space designed to intimidate. High vaulted ceilings of white marble stretched upward, lit by golden chandeliers that burned with floating blue mana flames. A massive obsidian dining table ran down the center of the room, surrounded by high-backed velvet chairs. The scent of roasted meats, fresh herbs, and expensive wine filled the air, but it only made my stomach twist.
A cold, steady step echoed from the side entrance.
Asylym Vexley walked into the room, his movements precise and soldier-like. He had stark white hair styled in a neat middle part, and blank blue eyes that seemed to look through everything in the room without registering them. He wore a combat-ready outfit—a structured coat of dark leather over lightweight steel pauldrons and vambraces, designed for maximum efficiency rather than courtly fashion. A sheathed longsword hung at his hip.
"Asylym, I'm glad you could join us." Iris smiled, stepping toward him as he approached the table.
"My duty was finished, Princess Iris. The Emperor's command is absolute." Asylym replied, his voice flat and unyielding.
"Always so formal. You should relax a little when you are with me." Iris laughed softly, resting her hand on his armored arm.
"Relaxation is a vulnerability in training. I cannot afford it." Asylym stared ahead, his blank eyes unchanging.
"Then I will just have to make you relax." Iris beamed, looking up at him with clear affection.
Asylym turned toward the head of the table and bowed deeply. "Your Imperial Majesties. Thank you for permitting my presence at your table."
Noctis gave a warm nod of approval. "Vexley. Sit. Your father speaks highly of your progress in the outer ward. He says your swordplay is unmatched among the recruits."
Rosaline offered a slow, evaluating look from her cold blue eyes, followed by a slight nod of recognition. She said nothing.
Asylym's gaze shifted, his blank blue eyes settling directly on me.
"I have heard of your gift, Crown Princess Rose." Asylym spoke, his voice carrying a cold, direct honesty. "Wielding both cursed and celestial magic simultaneously is a rare feat. Very few in the empire's history have achieved such compatibility."
For a second, my heart flared with a quiet surprise. I thought he was praising me.
"However, compatibility is not mastery." Asylym added, his eyes remaining empty. "In battle, a wide arsenal is useless if it lacks the depth to pierce a true shield. If you rely on versatility alone, you will fail. In raw output, you are still adequate at best."
Unlike the other nobles who whisper behind my back and tremble at the thought of the cursed magic, he looked at me as if I were just a target he could easily break. And he is Iris's.
He wasn't scared of me.
It was a warning. If I ever tried to oppose her, he would come after me. I have no one to shield me from him, no one to fight for me.
It's just myself again.
Iris wrapped her hand around Asylym's arm, leaning against his shoulder with a proud smile as she watched me.
We took our seats as the maids started serving the food. I sat at the far end of the obsidian table, isolated from the rest. The dishes were lavish: glazed roasted meats, exotic sea-creatures in rich golden gravies, and a centerpiece soup—a delicate clear broth of white truffles and moon-lily extract.
I looked at my soup, completely losing my appetite. I couldn't eat with them.
The others started eating, the clinking of silver cutlery filling the silence. I just quietly stared at my plate.
Anastasia Mooncrest took a sip of her wine, breaking the silence. "We must make this year's Founders' Day special, Noctis. I was thinking of floating lanterns decorated with fire-lilies. It would bring such a warm, romantic glow to the terrace."
"If it pleases you, Anastasia, I will have the chamberlain arrange it." Noctis replied, his voice carrying a soft warmth.
"A lovely suggestion, Anastasia, but fire-lilies must be imported." Irena Seraphil noted, her voice carrying a slow, calculated precision. "The transport alone will cost 3,000 gold coins, not to mention the security risks of having foreign merchants enter the inner ring."
"Oh, Irena, you are always thinking about ledgers and security." Anastasia sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "It's a festival! The people want to see beauty, not just guards."
"Prestige is built on order, Anastasia. A single security breach will cost far more than 3,000 gold coins." Irena replied.
"The cost is irrelevant, Irena." Rosaline spoke, her quiet voice instantly silencing the table. "The fire-lilies will be sourced from our private greenhouse to avoid external merchant screening. The festival will proceed with the grand parade of lights, followed by the masquerade. It is already decided."
Noctis nodded. "Very well. Rosaline's suggestion solves both concerns. We will use the private greenhouse."
"And what about the music?" Anastasia asked, her eyes shining. "We must invite the bards from the western valleys. Their melodies are divine, and they would be perfect for the night dance."
"Western bards are notoriously difficult to screen." Irena countered, setting down her cup. "Their instruments can easily conceal wind-mana conduits."
"Then the Shadow Wardens will monitor them from the galleries." Rosaline declared, her tone leaving no room for argument. "They will perform."
"Papa," Seraphina spoke up, her eyes wide and eager. "Will you dance with me at the masquerade? I want to show all the nobles how well you've taught me."
"Me too, Papa!" Iris joined in. "You must dance with me as well."
Noctis pretended to think for a moment, then smiled. "Very well. I suppose I can manage a dance for my daughters."
"Oh, you must, Noctis!" Anastasia insisted. "It's a father's duty to show off his beautiful daughters."
"It would also project a unified front to the southern factions, Noctis. A wise political move." Irena added.
Rosaline glanced at Noctis, her expression unreadable. "And who will open the floor with the Emperor, Noctis? The traditionalists expect the Empress, of course."
"I will dance with Rosaline 1st, to open the night." Noctis confessed, looking at her. "Then I will dance with the rest of you."
Iris and Seraphina giggled in excitement. Irena gave a cold stare to Rosaline, who just smiled back subtly.
"Father..." I spoke up, my voice trembling slightly as I broke my silence. "May I... may I also have a dance with you at the masquerade?"
Noctis's blue eyes turned to me, cold and examining. "Why would you want to dance with me?"
"It would show the public that the Crown Princess has the Emperor's backing." I replied, forcing my posture to remain upright. "It would quiet the rumors about my results, Father."
Irena Seraphil let out a soft, patronizing sigh. "A dance will not mask your performance, Rose. The nobles are not fools. If you want to project backing, you should show your radiance through achievements, not social performance. A hollow display is worse than none."
"Oh, Irena, she is his daughter." Anastasia Mooncrest countered, leaning forward with a warm expression. "Perhaps she just wants to dance with her father. There is nothing wrong with that."
Hearing Anastasia side with me, a tiny fraction of the cold weight in my chest lifted. I felt a bit more at ease.
Noctis stared at me, his gaze unyielding. "Can you even dance well? I do not want you tripping over your gown and embarrassing the imperial family on the ballroom floor."
"I can, Father." I said, clutching the fabric of my dress. "I will practice as much as needed. I will not embarrass you."
"I will think about it." Noctis muttered, turning his attention back to his plate.
He didn't say no. He said he would think about it. It was 1 single sliver of hope, a fragile thread I could cling to.
The maids finished serving, standing back to wait for us to eat.
"Rose." Iris spoke, her voice drawing the attention of the table. "Why aren't you eating? You must try the soup. The chefs made it specially for the royal family. It would be rude to refuse."
I felt the heavy weight of Noctis's eyes on me.
Why doesn't he just say it?
Why does he make me suffer like this?
Under the suffocating pressure of the table, I picked up my spoon, dipping it into the clear broth. I brought it to my lips and took a sip.
It felt a bit bitter, leaving a weird, lingering taste on my tongue. I swallowed, forcing myself to eat a bit more to keep that tiny sliver of hope alive.
But as I dipped the spoon in again, the clear broth shifted.
Something dark and bloated floated up to the surface.
A dead, waterlogged rat, its hair matted and wet, its eyes white and lifeless, floated in the center of my white ceramic bowl.
I stared in pure horror.
My hands began to shake, the silver spoon slipping from my fingers and clattering against the obsidian table with a sharp, echoing ring. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.
"Rose, what is—good gods!" Anastasia gasped, her emerald eyes widening in sheer horror as she stared at my bowl. "Guard! Maids! What is the meaning of this? How could this happen?"
Iris took a sip of her own soup without a care, side-eyeing me with a cold, mocking gaze.
"Speak!" Anastasia slammed her hand on the table, her face red with fury. "How did filth end up in the Crown Princess's bowl?"
The maids rushed forward, throwing themselves to their knees and bowing their heads to the floor, trembling in terror. "Forgive us, Your Imperial Majesties! There was a sudden rat infestation in the dry storage area this afternoon. The pest control wards must have failed, and... and it must have slipped into the pot by mistake! It was a terrible accident!"
My stomach churned. A wave of intense nausea hit me. I had just swallowed it. I had tasted it.
A hot tear slipped down my cheek, my vision blurring as I stared at the bloated creature. I wanted to throw up right there. The horror was suffocating.
"An accident?" Anastasia shouted, her voice shaking the chandeliers. "You served filth to the Crown Princess! This is treasonous negligence! You will be stripped of your titles and thrown into the dungeons for this!"
"Calm yourself, Anastasia." Irena stopped her, her voice smooth and calculated. "Loud outbursts will not clean the table, nor will they change what has occurred."
"They served her filth, Irena!" Anastasia yelled. "She could have been poisoned!"
"It is a simple sanitary failure, not an assassination attempt." Irena countered, setting down her fork. "The pest control wards in the kitchen dry storage must have lapsed."
"Lapsed?" Anastasia's voice cracked with fury. "This is the imperial kitchen! There are no excuses for this!"
"Oh, come now." Zeus scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a mocking smirk. "She is the Crown Princess, the famous Miss Perfect of Class A. Surely a small rat isn't enough to make her cry like a child. Where is that royal pride you always show?"
"Indeed, sister." Iris added, her voice dropping to a sweet, poison-laced tone. "Would you truly execute these poor maids over a harmless mistake they had no hand in? A benevolent princess should be kind enough to show mercy, rather than throwing tantrums over an accident."
I couldn't reply. The horror of what I had swallowed was choking me.
I sat there, tears streaming down my face, my breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
I slowly turned my eyes to Rosaline, begging for some maternal protection.
Rosaline just stared at Irena, her expression flat and knowing.
She knew it was one of Irena's schemes to humiliate me, but she didn't say a single word. She just watched.
I looked at Noctis, desperate for some hope.
My wide, tear-filled blue eyes stared back at him, my cheeks flushed dark red from the heat of my tears. My lips trembled, my vision blurring as I looked to him for any sign of warmth, any hint that he saw me as his daughter.
"Stop this humiliating display, Rose." Noctis spoke, his voice cold and flat. "You are embarrassing me. If you must cry, go cry somewhere else."
He turned to the guards, completely invalidating the situation. "It was a simple oversight by the kitchen staff. Maids, clear the table and serve the next course. Ensure it does not happen again."
I was left speechless, the pain in my chest so sharp it felt like my heart was cracking.
"I told you to stop crying, Rose." Noctis spoke again, his voice sharpening.
"Go fix your face. You look pathetic."
"If you cannot control your emotions at a family dinner, you do not belong here."
"Leave the room. Your presence is ruining the appetite of everyone at this table."
I stood up, my knees trembling so hard I almost fell. I bowed my head, hiding my face as the tears dripped onto the carpet.
"I apologize... for disturbing the family dinner. I will head back to the academy now."
"Rose, wait—" Anastasia called out, but I didn't reply. I turned and ran, desperate to escape.
Behind me, Anastasia stood up, taking 1 step toward Iris in anger. "You planned this, didn't you?"
Asylym stood up, his hand resting on the hilt of his longsword, his white hair falling over his blank blue eyes as he blocked her path.
"Sit down, Vexley." Noctis ordered. "Anastasia, control yourself."
"The Crown Princess is incapable of composure, and the consort should not resort to violence or conflict in the Emperor's presence." Asylym stated, his voice flat. "I will not allow anyone to threaten Princess Iris."
Iris smirked, while Zeus let out a quiet chuckle. Seraphina looked surprised and slightly sad, watching me leave with a flicker of pity, but she didn't move. Asylym kept his cold, blank hilt-hand ready, staring me down as I fled.
I ran down the cold stone corridors, my vision blurred by tears, barely making it to the washroom.
I fell to my knees in front of the marble basin, clutching my stomach as dry heaving turned into violent vomiting. I spewed out the bitter broth, my throat burning, my chest convulsing as I gagged.
I collapsed against the cold marble wall, sobbing hysterically.
Why me?
Why does it have to be me?
"Ugh... huff... sob... hic... why..."
I gave him my best. I went to the academy. I did everything they asked... and he looked at me with disgust because of a dead rat in my soup.
He didn't care even for a moment...
I cried my eyes out, the sounds of my own weeping echoing in the cold, empty washroom.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not enough for you. I'm sorry I can't do anything right. I'm sorry I ruined your life. Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make you happy?
Y'know, it's always me. It's always about how I need to change, how I need to fix everything, how I need to try harder. But that's not fair. Why should I have to change? I haven't even gotten to find out who I am, who I'm gonna be... that's crazy... you tell me I'm bad before I even get to be anything...
You're really messing with my head, you know that, father? I mean, I'm just a kid... I'm just a kid and you expect me to just be able to read your mind and know exactly what to do, what to say, who to be. As if you get to pick who I'm gonna be...
The empire loves me for my gifts, for my title as the Crown Princess. But what am I without it? Will anyone wipe these tears of mine if I wasn't a princess? Would they?
Nobody.
My throat felt raw, my hands trembling as I reached for the marble basin to splash cold water onto my face.
Go fix your face. You look pathetic.
My father's words rang in my head, a sharp, metallic hammer pounding against my temples. I couldn't go back out looking like this. I couldn't let anyone see the redness in my eyes, the weakness on my cheeks.
I focused my mana, gathering the delicate threads of illusion magic. Slowly, my platinum-blonde hair darkened, turning into a deep, flat black. My bright sapphire-blue eyes shifted, the vibrant color fading until they were a standard, dull black. I dissolved the magic hiding my outfit, letting the princess-like dress fade away beneath a plain, dark hooded tunic. I pulled the hood forward, shading my face.
I looked in the mirror. I was no longer the Crown Princess.
I was just a nameless shadow.
I pushed the washroom door open and stepped back into the corridor.
But I wasn't alone.
Standing near the intersection of the hallway was Princess Iris, with Asylym Vexley standing right behind her, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
"Oh, Rose." Iris spoke, her voice carrying a mock surprise. "I had to use the restroom. I didn't expect to run into you here. Are you finally finished with your little episode?"
"Step aside, Iris." I said, keeping my head down under my hood. "I am leaving."
"Leaving so soon?" Iris giggled, stepping closer to block my path. "And here I thought the great Crown Princess would stay to finish her meal. I suppose the soup was a bit too exotic for your refined taste."
"I said, step aside."
"You look so small in that hood, Rose. Like a rat trying to scurry back to its hole." Iris mocked, her eyes shining with malicious delight. "Did you really think Papa would care about your tears? You are nothing to him. A mediocrity. A disgrace."
My vision went red. The humiliation, the disgust, and the raw fury of the past hour boiled over.
I'll kill you.
I channeled my mana, the dark, heavy threads of cursed magic wrapping around my right hand. The air around my fist crackled with a deadly, destructive purple glow as I lunged forward, aiming a punch directly at Iris's face.
I will tear that smirk off your face.
A steel-clad hand shot forward with terrifying speed, catching my wrist mid-air.
The impact sent a shockwave through my arm, my cursed mana dispersing instantly against his sheer physical force. Asylym Vexley stood between us, his blank blue eyes looking down at me as his grip tightened around my wrist like an iron vice.
"Do not test me, Princess Rose." Asylym warned, his voice a freezing, quiet threat. "An attack on Princess Iris is an attack on me. I will neutralize any threat to her safety. Even you."
"Release me!" I snarled, trying to pull my arm back, but his grip didn't budge. "You are a Knight of the Realm! Your duty is to protect the royal family! How can you stand by and allow her to mock the Crown Princess?"
"My duty is to the one I serve." Asylym replied flatly. "And I serve Iris."
Iris stepped out from behind him, her smile wide and venomous. "Do you really think your cursed magic scares me anymore, Rose? I have the future strongest man of the realm by my side. A transcendent-tier blade. While you have... nobody."
She leaned closer to my ear, her whisper cutting like a razor. "I am going to steal everything you ever wanted. Just like how my mother stole your father, I stole your father's love. You have nothing left."
Asylym twisted my wrist slightly, forcing me to lean down as a sharp pain flared up my arm.
Should I fight back? Should I unleash everything?
No. If I fight here, if I cause a scene, Father will only see me as the instigator. He will see me as the problem. He will use it as an excuse to lock me away or strip my title.
I went limp, letting the mana drain from my body.
Asylym released his grip, pushing my hand back. "Never attempt to harm Iris again. Next time, I will not hold back."
"Go run along, Rose." Iris laughed, waving her hand dismissively. "Go and find someone who can actually defend a girl like you. Oh, wait... you can't. You're only good at crying."
I couldn't reply. The physical weakness from vomiting, combined with the crushing isolation, left me hollow. I turned and ran down the corridor, the sound of Iris's laughter echoing behind me while Asylym watched with his cold, empty stare.
I didn't stop running until I cleared the palace gates, passing the guards into the dark streets of the Asura capital.
The night air was cold, but it felt clean compared to the suffocating rot of the palace. My body felt weak, my stomach still burning from the broth I had thrown up. I walked slowly, my boots dragging against the cobblestones.
She was right.
Even with all my training, even with my dual affinities, I can't fight a trained soldier like Asylym. He is older, stronger, and backed by the entire military nobility. I couldn't even touch him. I can't even defend myself.
I am completely alone.
As I walked deeper into the Lower East Quarter, passing under the flickering gas lamps, the quiet shadows of the city seemed to press in on me.
If I were to disappear, nobody would notice. Maybe like 2 people would, but nobody else. But that's the thing. Everybody would act as if they did. People are weird like that, they don't care about you until something happens.
They will say "oh, I loved her," but they never spoke to me. People will grieve what they didn't know, and what they never gave time to learn.
But would they even grieve my loss? Would I just be forgotten in history along with many others before me?
If I were to disappear, would people attend my funeral? Would they care enough to see me in my last moments before I become one with the earth? Or will they "forget the date"?
I'll never find out the answer to my wonders. Unless I fake it.
The thought of faking my own death and running away to start a new life is a thought I will forever have. An idea that will sit in the back of my mind as a last resort.
If it ever comes down to that, just know I'll never forget the life I had lived with you.
A soft, flickering orange light caught my eye.
I looked up, noticing the weathered wooden sign of a tavern hanging over a stone entryway: The Rustlantern.
The faint sound of yelling echoed from inside the courtyard.
"You useless, lazy blockheads!" Cliff Hanger's voice boomed, his thick eyebrows twitching in fury as he screamed at 2 young kitchen helpers. "I told you to stack the dark ale in the cellar, not leave it out to turn sour in the night air! If I lose even 1 copper to your stupidity, I'll make you drink the sour batch yourself!"
I pushed the wooden gate open, entering the courtyard. The warmth of the tavern's hearth spilled out, but the moment I stepped into the light, Cliff's angry shouting died down.
His eyes landed on my face. Even with my hood and my black illusion-disguised hair, the redness around my eyes and the dried tear tracks on my cheeks were clear.
Cliff's eyebrows knitted together, his exasperated expression softening into a weary, silent sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck with his cloth. "My bad luck... My bad, bad life..." he muttered to the ceiling, before looking back at me.
"You look like you've had a rough night, kid."
"Do you... do you have an open table?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Cliff looked around the crowded tavern. Adventurers and mercenaries were shouting and drinking at every wooden bench. He sighed, pointing a thick finger toward the furthest corner of the courtyard, where an open-view window looked out into the dark, starry sky.
"There's only 1 table left, but you'll have to share it." Cliff said, his tone dry but not unkind. "The boy sitting there won't bother you. He's been out cold for the last hour."
"That is fine. Thank you." I nodded, walking toward the corner.
The Rustlantern was rustic and loud, filled with the smell of roasted potatoes, cheap draft beer, and tobacco smoke. But as I reached the corner table, the noise seemed to fade.
I sat down on the wooden bench across from the open view, staring out at the vast, black sky.
Then, I noticed the boy sitting across from me.
His head was down on the table, buried in his arms as he slept soundly. Scattered across the worn wooden surface were various engineering gears, copper wire rolls, open textbooks on spatial calculations, and several unfinished magitek circuits.
He was completely asleep, his breathing slow and steady.
I pulled my legs up onto the bench, hugging my knees tightly to my chest. The loud chatter of the tavern seemed to drift away, replaced by the cold whistling of the wind from the open view.
But as the silence settled in, the phantom taste of the bitter soup returned.
My chest tightened. A wave of physical nausea hit me, making my throat burn as the memory of the dead, bloated rat surfaced in my mind. I could see its lifeless white eyes. I could see Zeus's mocking smile. I could hear my father's flat, heartless voice ordering me to leave because I was ruining their appetite.
Nobody had cared. Nobody had even blinked.
"Ugh... hic... sob..."
A quiet, muffled sob escaped my lips. I pressed my forehead against my knees, trying to hold it in, but the tears leaked out anyway, wetting my plain tunic.
I am the daughter who learned to wipe her own tears when no one else did. I learned that I have to help myself because no one will come to save me.
I used to wait for someone to ask if I was okay, but they didn't. So I stopped waiting. I learned how to be strong on my own.
I am the daughter who stayed quiet when things hurt. I didn't want to bother anyone, so I kept everything inside. I smiled when I wanted to cry. I helped others even when I needed help too.
I got used to hiding my feelings because not everyone would understand. I cried at night and still got up the next day like nothing happened. I felt pain but kept it to myself. But even with all that, I kept going.
Because I am the princess who keeps fighting, even when no one sees how hard it is.
"Ugh... sob... hic..."
The crying sounds were raw, shaking my entire body. I gripped my arms, the sheer weight of my isolation crushing me.
Iris's venomous words echoed in my head.
She was right. I was only good at crying. Even with my cursed magic, even with my dual affinities, I was terrified to go against my father.
Because if I did, who would stand by me? I had no one.
I stared down at the worn wooden table, watching my tears drip onto the rough grain, reflecting the flickering lantern light.
A person who is there when you need him. Someone who picks you up when you fall. A person who sticks up for you when no one else will...
I closed my eyes, wishing with everything I had for a single person like that.
Suddenly, the cold air against my cheek vanished.
I felt a soft, clean cloth gently touch my face, wiping away the wet tear tracks.
My breath hitched. I pulled back slightly, my blurry, wet eyes blinking open.
Through the haze of my tears, the boy across the table was no longer asleep.
His black hair swayed gently in the wind from the wind, and his deep, calm blue eyes stared directly into mine with a quiet, genuine warmth.
"Are you hurt?" Kaiser asked, his voice soft and steady.
My heart did a sudden, violent flip.
Kaiser?
It was him. The magicless student from Class C. But looking at his calm expression, I realized he didn't recognize me. My illusion magic was still active—my hair was black, my eyes were black, and I was dressed in a commoner's dark hood.
To him, I was just a stranger.
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, moving my face away from his hand and the cloth. "I'm okay." I muttered, trying to sound casual.
"You aren't." Kaiser said, setting the cloth down on the table. His gaze was unyielding, stripping away my defense.
"You're hurt. Someone hurt you."
I looked at him, completely frozen by the absolute certainty in his voice.
"You can talk to me, even if we've just met." Kaiser spoke, leaning forward slightly. "Think of me as a friend. Is something wrong?"
"You don't even know my name." I whispered, my voice cracking. "Why are you being so kind?"
"I don't know." Kaiser replied, a faint, thoughtful expression passing over his face. "But I felt a tightness in my chest a little while ago. An ache that didn't belong to me. And when I woke up and saw you sitting here, crying like the world had abandoned you... I couldn't just sit and watch. I can't see you sad. It feels wrong."
I stared at him, the sincerity in his blue eyes making my chest ache in a completely different way.
"Tell me what's wrong." Kaiser urged gently. "Think of me as a friend."
I slowly shook my head, pulling my hood down further. "I don't trust friends. And it won't matter anyways. Sharing it won't fix it."
Kaiser snapped his fingers, letting out a soft sigh as he leaned his chin on his hand. "Okay, I see you don't trust friends, so we need an alternative... Hmmm..."
He studied my face, his blue eyes scanning my dark, disguised features.
"How about you think of me as your brother?" Kaiser suggested, a small, playful smile playing on his lips.
"We look the same age, so that should be fine."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a comforting whisper.
"Now, will you share it with me, my dear little sister?"
My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widening under the shadow of my hood.
Why does a stranger's affection feel more like family than my own home ever did?