RHEIN'S POINT OF VIEW
I'd be lying if I said training was easy. Every single day felt like torture. And if that wasn't enough, I had to endure etiquette lessons too. Good thing I was a fast learner—otherwise, my suffering would've doubled. Honestly, what's the right word for this? Ah, yes. Torture.
"Aaahh! It hurts! Ouch!" I whined, close to tears, while Sister Rona treated my wounds.
"Stop squirming," she scolded, clearly annoyed.
"But it really hurts!"
"Then endure it."
"Sister, come on..." I pouted, pressing my lips together and flashing her my best puppy eyes. "Please... just use healing mnarill."
"That's a big no, Rhein."
"P-please?"
"It's part of your training. You have to endure the pain."
I was always left battered and bruised. It would've been nice if I could heal right after every session, but no—that's not allowed. Part of my training is learning to bear the pain. Because of it, I struggled to move, struggled to sleep.
This is our nightly routine. After training, Forelody and I would go to Sister Rona's room so she could tend to me. The royal healer was supposed to do it, but my sister insisted on volunteering. Mother and Father disapproved, knowing she already had too much on her plate and would only exhaust herself further. But as always, Sister is stubborn.
I exhaled heavily. "Last night of torture," I muttered to myself. "Tomorrow, it finally ends."
"Exactly," Sister agreed with a laugh as she finished bandaging my arm. "So stop complaining. Tomorrow, you graduate from being a mummy."
The three of them burst out laughing at my pitifully wrapped figure, and I couldn't help but laugh too. Honestly, I really do look ridiculous.
On my way back to my room, I winced at every step. Sister Rona didn't follow—I knew she is already exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes are proof enough.
"Just a little more, Pracien. You can do this," Forelody cheered, fluttering beside me.
Around her tiny neck hung a small cardboard sign tied with string. On it, in bold, childish handwriting, were the words: 'You can do it, Pracien!' She'd been wearing it since the first day of training. Even when she slept, she refused to take it off. I'd tried removing it once, but she scolded me furiously.
Earlier, we had dinner with the Great Elemental Generals. We discussed the results of my week-long training, and apparently, my progress was remarkable. Sister, along with Mother and Father, showered me with praise.
Father also mentioned my coronation—it would be held on my nineteenth birthday. Just like Sister's had been on hers.
It was nearly eleven when I sat up in bed. Sleep refused to come, the pain in my body keeping me wide awake.
I glanced at Forelody, who was sprawled on the edge of my pillow, snoring loudly. The cardboard sign was still around her neck. I couldn't help but smile—I think her snores are even louder than mine.
Reaching for the crutches beside my bed, I stood carefully and slipped out of the room. If I couldn't sleep, I might as well have a midnight snack. Dinner hadn't been enough.
The palace halls were eerily quiet, save for the guards posted outside. My footsteps echoed against the floor, making me feel like I'd walked into a horror movie. At least the lights were still on—it helped take the edge off my nerves.
Suddenly, a door opened just ahead of me. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest.
It is Brother Dylan's room. His eyes widened when he saw me, but then he smiled and gave a small bow.
"Why are you still awake, Princess?" he asked.
It was the first time we had spoken since his prank—the one that ended with me breaking his arm. He'd been away on a mission Father assigned, leaving Justin to handle my training. I hadn't had a chance to apologize.
"Couldn't sleep," I replied with a smile. "You, Brother Dylan? Why are you still up?"
"Same. Can't sleep either. But where are you going? You can't even walk properly, and yet you're wandering the halls."
I rolled my eyes. "Kitchen. Midnight snack."
"Then I'll join you."
He moved to support me, but I quickly waved him off. Of course, he teased me, calling me a zombie-mummy. I ignored him—if I let him push my buttons, I'd never get to apologize.
When we reached the kitchen, he opened the huge refrigerator and started rummaging. I peeked inside too. My eyes landed immediately on a leftover slice of vanilla cake. Perfect. I grabbed it, poured myself a glass of lemonade from a pitcher, and carried both to the table. Dylan chose a small bowl of chocolate ice cream.
We sat across from each other in silence, eating. From the corner of my eye, I noticed him stealing glances at me, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. I braced myself for some new prank.
Halfway through my cake, I finally gathered the courage to speak. "Brother Dylan," I called.
"Hm?" He looked up, spoon still in his mouth.
I lowered my gaze to my plate, swallowed hard, and continued. "I... I want to apologize for breaking your arm."
He fell silent. Maybe, he was surprised? Maybe, he didn't expect me to bring it up?
He smiled. "It's my fault, Rhein. No need to apologize. I played a trick on you, and karma got me."
I frowned, memories of that awful prank flashing in my mind. The guilt I'd carried instantly vanished. "Actually, you're the one who should be apologizing to me."
He didn't argue. Instead, he said quietly, "Sorry. I know it was a bad joke but..." His expression turned serious, his usual playfulness gone. No wonder the soldiers found him intimidating—he is terrifying when he puts on that look. "But it's not something I regret."
My brows knit together, anger sparking in me. "So you meant to do it? That was disrespectful, Brother Dylan! How could you say that? That's not appropriate at all!"
"Okay, okay. Chill. I'm just kidding." His grin returned. "And I told you before—drop the 'Brother.'"
This time, I laughed. "No. You'll be my brother sooner or later, so I might as well get used to it." My words carried weight, and he seemed to catch it. His smile faded into a frown.
"Why the frown, Brother? Don't worry, I'll help you with my sister. I'll be the bridge."
His face grew serious again, eyes locking on mine. "Rhein, don't push it. She's just a friend. Like a sister to me."
My grin widened. "Denial, huh? It's fine. You've got plenty of time to realize your true feelings."
"Playing love expert now?"
"Slightly."
He laughed and shook his head. What a joke I am—zero experience in love, yet bold enough to play matchmaker.
"Don't push it, Rhein," he told me. Then, reaching over, he pinched my cheek until I winced. "Don't blame me. I did warn you."