Shiro woke to the sound of dripping water.
His body ached like he'd been trampled by oxen, every limb heavy, his chest hollow. The rafters of the abandoned storehouse loomed above him, cracked beams cutting the sunlight into dusty ribbons. The smell of mildew clung to the air.
"Shiro?"
A soft voice. He turned his head with effort and found Elira kneeling beside him, her eyes puffy and red. She clutched a damp cloth in her hands, pressing it carefully to his forehead.
"You scared us," she whispered, her lip trembling. "You've been asleep for… almost a full day."
"Day…?" His voice cracked. His throat burned. "Gods…"
Mirielle sat curled against his other side, arms wrapped around her knees, dozing lightly but twitching at every sound. Even in sleep, her face was streaked with dried tears.
Shiro shut his eyes, forcing down the panic clawing at his chest. A whole day. The Temple would have scoured half the city by now.
He struggled to sit up, every muscle protesting. "We can't stay here long."
"Where will we go?" Elira asked, voice small. "The knights are everywhere. They'll… they'll take us too."
Shiro clenched his fists, staring at the dirt floor. He wanted to promise her safety, but the words caught in his throat.
Instead, another thought surfaced. A possibility. Someone he hadn't dared think of yet.
A friend.
Not just anyone — someone who knew him better than most, who wouldn't betray him. Someone with enough power, enough resources, to shield them… if she chose to. But saying her name aloud felt dangerous, even here.
He pressed the thought down. "I… I know someone. If anyone can help, it's them."
Elira blinked. "Someone?"
Before he could answer, a floorboard creaked.
All three of them froze.
A shadow moved in the doorway of the ruined storehouse. Shiro's heart slammed against his ribs — had the knights found them already? He staggered halfway to his feet, weak as he was, shoving Elira and Mirielle behind him.
The figure stepped into the dim light. A girl — tall, cloaked, with hair the color of dark copper pulled into an elaborate braid. Her cloak was too fine, her boots too clean, to belong in a ruin like this.
Shiro's breath caught.
"…You."
The girl's face softened at the sight of him. "I knew you'd be here."
Elira gasped, recognizing her. Mirielle only blinked in confusion.
The girl's voice was low but urgent as she closed the door behind her. "The city's crawling with knights. They've sealed the temple square and posted watchmen at every gate. If you stay here, they'll find you within the day."
She pulled back her hood, revealing sharp green eyes that glittered with both worry and resolve.
"You can't stay. Come with me. My family's estate will be safer than this ruin. They won't dare search it — not openly."
Her words struck like a lifeline thrown across a storm.
Shiro's stomach twisted. He'd thought of her as a possibility, but to see her here, bold enough to come alone, was something else entirely.
The magician's voice brushed faintly against his mind, almost amused.
"This girl, she risks much for you. Perhaps more than you know."
Shiro's sisters peeked out from behind him, wide-eyed.
Elira tugged on his sleeve. "Shiro… who is she?"
He stiffened, still standing protectively in front of them. His mouth opened, but the words refused to come. It wasn't his secret to share. "She's… someone I know. That's all."
The girl arched a brow, folding her arms. "That's all? Really?" She stepped further into the light, pulling back her hood completely. Her copper braid glinted like fire in the dusty sunbeams. "After all these years, is that how you introduce me?"
Elira tilted her head, confused. Mirielle just blinked, trying to place the stranger's refined face.
The girl sighed dramatically, then smiled at the two younger sisters. "Very well. Since your brother insists on being forgetful… I'll introduce myself. My name is Selene Archlight, daughter of House Archlight."
Elira gasped, clutching her hands together. "Archlight? One of the oldest noble houses…!"
Shiro winced. "Selene—"
But Selene wasn't finished. Her grin widened as she looked right at him. "And this hopeless boy once promised, when we were children, that he'd marry me when we grew up. Isn't that right, Shiro?"
The air seemed to stop.
Elira and Mirielle's jaws dropped in unison. Then both of them turned their heads slowly toward their brother.
Shiro's face went pale, then red, then pale again. "Wh-what?! That's— You can't just—"
Mirielle snorted so hard she nearly toppled over. "You forgot you made a marriage promise?! To a noble, no less?!"
Elira pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to hide her laughter. "Brother, you'd better remember next time. Promises like that can't just be ignored…"
"W-we were six!" Shiro sputtered, his voice cracking. "She—she's exaggerating!"
Selene leaned against the doorframe, perfectly calm, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Oh, I remember it very clearly. Don't worry, Elira, Mirielle—your brother will have to keep his promise someday."
"Stop filling their heads with nonsense!" Shiro cried, but the damage was done. His sisters dissolved into giggles, whispering "marriage promise" under their breath.
Even in the midst of danger, the dusty ruin echoed with their laughter.
Selene softened then, her teasing fading into seriousness. "Jokes aside… I'm here because I won't let the Temple take you. Not you, not your sisters." Her voice carried a rare gravity. "My family's estate is prepared. But you'll have to trust me."
Shiro swallowed hard, the warmth of embarrassment replaced with the cold weight of reality again. The sisters' laughter still lingered, but beneath it, he felt the burden of a decision pressing down.
The hideout felt smaller with Selene in it, her presence commanding in a way Shiro couldn't ignore. She swept her cloak back, pulling out a small crest worked in silver and blue enamel.
"This will be our pass," she explained, tucking it against her chest again. "Most knights won't stop a noble bearing their house seal. The trick is not to give them reason to look closer."
Elira frowned. "But we're fugitives. Won't they be looking for three children?"
Selene gave a quick smile. "Which is why you won't be three children. You'll be my attendants." She tossed a spare hooded cloak to Elira, then another to Mirielle. "Keep your heads low. Follow me, and speak only if spoken to."
Shiro hesitated. "You've done this before."
Her smirk turned sly. "You'd be surprised how often nobles have to sneak out of their gilded cages."
The four of them slipped from the hideout into the dusky streets. Patrols of knights moved in pairs, their polished armor catching lantern light. Somewhere, a bell tolled curfew.
Shiro's heart pounded with every step, but Selene walked like she owned the ground beneath her feet. When two knights crossed their path, she slowed just enough, raised her chin, and let the silver crest flash in the lamplight.
The knights stopped. One opened his mouth, suspicion in his eyes—until he caught the Archlight sigil. Both men stiffened, bowed hastily, and let them pass without another word.
Elira squeezed Shiro's hand under her cloak. Mirielle had to stifle a nervous giggle.
"See?" Selene whispered, once they were out of earshot. "Power has its uses."
They wove through alleyways and shadowed streets, Selene guiding them with an assurance that made Shiro uneasy and relieved all at once. Twice more they brushed against danger—a roving group of Temple priests chanting a detection hymn, and a checkpoint where papers were demanded—but each time Selene used wit, status, or a perfectly timed bluff to deflect suspicion.
By the time the city gates loomed, the moon hung high and cold in the sky. Selene presented the crest once more, her tone imperious, and the guards waved them through.
Beyond the walls, the air was cleaner, the night quieter. A carriage waited, black lacquer with silver trim, the driver bowing low as they approached.
"Your family still keeps carriages outside the city?" Shiro asked under his breath.
Selene arched a brow. "Do you think I came here on foot?"
They climbed aboard, the sisters marveling at the velvet seats, the faint scent of lavender stitched into the cushions. Shiro sat stiffly across from Selene, the rhythm of the wheels carrying them further from danger with every turn.
Finally, the spires of the Archlight estate rose in the distance, gleaming even in moonlight. Selene's voice softened.
"You're safe here. For now."
Shiro let his head fall back against the seat. For the first time since the ceremony, he allowed himself a breath that wasn't choked with fear.
The carriage wheels crunched over gravel as the estate gates swung wide. Lanterns burned along the stone walls, illuminating manicured hedges and tall banners bearing the Archlight crest. Shiro felt his throat tighten. He had grown up in modest streets and cramped homes, but here—this was another world.
Elira and Mirielle pressed against the windows, eyes wide. "It's like a palace…" Elira whispered.
Selene smirked. "Not quite. But close."
As the carriage rolled into the courtyard, liveried servants approached. They bowed deeply to Selene, their eyes darting curiously toward the cloaked figures following her. She dismissed them with a wave before any dared to ask questions.
"Come," she said firmly. "You're under my protection now."
Inside, the Archlight estate was everything Shiro had expected and more: vaulted ceilings, marble floors that reflected torchlight, and a chill in the air that spoke of wealth as much as stone. Every portrait that lined the walls bore the same sharp eyes and proud posture.
Shiro shifted uncomfortably under their gazes.
Mirielle tugged on his sleeve. "Do all these scary people watch you while you sleep?" she whispered.
Selene stifled a laugh. "They're just paintings."
But her smile faded when footsteps echoed down the corridor. A tall man appeared, draped in a formal tunic embroidered with silver thread. His hair was streaked with iron, his eyes cool and precise.
Shiro froze.
"Father," Selene said smoothly, bowing her head. "I've returned… and brought guests."
The man's eyes swept over Shiro and his sisters, lingering just long enough to weigh, to measure.
"Guests," he repeated, his tone unreadable. "At this hour?"
Selene's smile didn't falter, though Shiro could see the tension in her jaw. "Yes. Guests. Under my protection."
For a long moment, silence stretched. The patriarch of House Archlight turned slightly, gesturing for the steward to see the carriage off. Then he inclined his head, just enough to acknowledge them.
"Very well. But you and I will speak in the morning."
He turned and vanished deeper into the estate.
Selene exhaled, her shoulders relaxing at last. "That went better than expected."
Elira and Mirielle exchanged nervous glances. Shiro only frowned.
Something told him the night was far from over.