The moment Talia opened her eyes, she prepared herself more carefully than ever before. She endured in silence as the maids scrubbed her skin with stiff, rough brushes until it turned red, and even when they combed her hair so harshly her scalp burned, she bore it without complaint.
When her grooming was done, she put on the velvet dress—her grandfather's gift on the day she left House Taren. Until then, he had only ever looked at her with disapproval, but that day he had given her something for the first time.
Looking into the mirror, she saw a girl with an angelic face staring back. Perhaps this was what Senevier would have looked like if she had been nine years old again.
Her gaze lingered on her own deep blue eyes—the same color as her mother's—and with a resolute expression she left her room. But the boy who always trained at the same time was nowhere to be found today.
After slipping away from her attendants and wandering through the castle's courtyard for a long time, Talia's shoulders drooped with disappointment. A dreadful thought chilled her—what if she never saw him again?
Why was she so fixated on a boy with whom she had only spoken once?
No—that wasn't true. She knew exactly why. On that rain-drenched day, he could have ignored a mud-caked child, but he hadn't. He had dirtied his own clothes and boots to climb down into the pit and pull her out. He had held her cold body against his warm chest and looked into her eyes for a long time. He had even carried away a pitiful bird on the verge of death.
That alone was enough to become her hope.
Talia walked tirelessly along the outer walls of the towering palace.
The Imperial Palace was like the belly of a giant beast. It was so vast and complex that, even after months of living there, she still stumbled upon places she had never seen before.
She wandered through flower-filled gardens, crossed a wide clearing, and ended up at the rear of the main palace. Her legs ached from walking nonstop since morning. Each step burned her feet as though they were pressed against fire—perhaps she had blisters.
Wiping sweat from her brow, she looked up at the blue sky through thick layers of leaves. She stood there for some time before deciding to head back to the Detached Palace. But just then, through the tall birch trees, she saw a slender figure moving gracefully. Her eyes lit up in joy.
Even from a distance, she recognized him instantly. His straight posture, his quiet, fluid stride—no one else could move like that.
Talia immediately ran after him. But no matter how fast she went, the distance didn't close. He was hurrying somewhere. Where to, and why?
She thought to call out, but her breath came too short. In the end, she lost him.
Collapsing against the trunk of a tree, she sank to the ground in frustration. Harsh sunlight beat down through the leaves, stinging her face. She squinted, staring blankly at the swaying canopy, when faint laughter drifted on the breeze—light and clear, like the song of a bird.
Rising, she followed the sound.
Through dense birches and thick underbrush, she came upon a vision: a beautiful flowerbed bursting with lavender, marigolds, and tiny white blossoms; a white marble pavilion; a small fountain. It was like the palace of fairies.
Entranced, she gazed around. Then her eyes caught him—kneeling on one knee in front of a marble bench.
He was not alone. A charming girl about their age sat across from him, with silky dark brown hair and rosy cheeks. She chattered away endlessly, and a faint smile curved his lips.
A sharp pain pierced Talia's chest, as if she had been pricked by a thorn. It felt as though her treasure had been stolen.
She knew the feeling was unreasonable. Anyone could see the two were long acquainted. While she was nothing more than a stranger.
But still—she wanted to step into their warm little world. To make his silver-blue eyes and faint smile turn toward her.
Driven by that impulse, she emerged from the thicket and walked to the fountain. Both the boy's beautiful eyes and the girl's bright green ones flew to her.
Unaccustomed to speaking with children her own age, Talia's throat went dry. But she reminded herself: I am a princess of the Empire. Surely they could not refuse her offer of friendship.
Lifting her chin with practiced pride, she greeted them.
"Hello."
The boy only stared, motionless.
Doesn't he recognize me? she wondered. The last time they met, she had been drenched in mud; perhaps he didn't expect to see her dressed as a princess.
She opened her mouth, ready to remind him of the day he had helped her—but before she could, the girl suddenly screamed.
"No! Not here! Anywhere but here!"
Her shrill cry was full of despair, as though facing a nightmare.
Eyes wide with terror, the girl flung herself at the boy.
"Please, Barcas! Drive her out of here! Don't let her set foot in this place! Don't let me ever see her again!"
Her thin arms clung to his neck.
The boy wrapped his arms around her trembling back protectively. Over her quivering shoulder, his cold gaze cut into Talia. She stumbled backward.
His voice was low, threatening:
"Leave. Now."
Staring at his icy face, Talia spun around and ran.
It was like having a bucket of ice water dumped over her head. Her mind went numb, unable to think.
She ran and ran, until near the main palace—when suddenly something yanked her hair savagely. Her head snapped back, her body twisting, and before she could even understand what was happening, a heavy blow struck her.
She rolled across the grass, clutching her aching stomach.
"How dare you step foot where you don't belong!"
A furious, youthful voice roared above her.
Looking up in shock, she saw a boy she had never met glaring down at her.
He had dark hair and blazing green eyes. He looked so much like the girl that Talia instantly knew they were siblings. But she had no idea when he had begun following her—or why he was so enraged.
Still stunned by this sudden assault, she froze. Then his foot slammed into her stomach again.
"Die!"
White-hot pain blanked her vision. She curled up, coughing violently.
Like kicking a ball, he kicked her again and again.
"Die! Die! Just die!"
His voice was a piercing scream, hammering into her ears like nails.
By the time the servants came running in alarm, his curses and blows still had not stopped.
Talia crawled desperately along the ground like an insect to escape his brutal kicks. Even then, he raged, thrashing in the grip of two attendants who held him back. His roar was animalistic:
"Disappear from this world, you filthy bastard child!"
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