INTERLUDE I
Deep within a forest wrapped in a thick shroud of mist, trees towered in every direction. The fog drifted upward through the branches, weaving between the leaves before swallowing the entire woodland behind its pale curtain, allowing only the faintest traces of sunlight to seep through.
Its density alone was enough to make anyone lose their way, and its vast reach—unchanged even after hundreds of years—made it clear that this phenomenon was anything but natural. Those who lived beyond the mist believed an ancient creature dwelled somewhere deep within, far out of reach, and that its existence was the very source of the fog.
From time to time, many creatures ventured into the misted forest, bringing with them everything they possessed… yet none were ever seen emerging again.
Hundreds—perhaps thousands—of stories had sprung from this place, tales woven from truth, superstition, and everything in between.
But among all those stories, there was one part no one had ever discovered.
A tale about a mysterious hut, its walls woven from bamboo and straw, standing firm at a secluded point within the forest. It rested on a stretch of open grassland encircled by shallow streams.
Anyone who laid eyes on the place would rank it among the five most beautiful sights they had ever seen, without a shred of hesitation. Yet beauty aside, it was also one of the most dangerous spots in the entire forest.
Because just ten steps beyond the stream's circular boundary, one would be greeted by monsters—towering several feet tall—often staring sharply toward whatever lay protected within the waters they could not cross.
Creatures whose strength could hurl boulders, whose beaks could snap tree trunks like twigs, and whose footsteps alone could shudder the ground.
A single one of these monsters could flatten a city with minimal effort, yet now dozens of them stood surrounding the flowing stream, as if waiting for something—or someone—to emerge from within.
A forest drowned in mist that blocked most sunlight…
A lethal circle of monsters…
Air pressure lower than normal…
And in the midst of all that danger, a fragile-looking hut built upon lashed wooden beams stood unwavering, as though defying everything around it.
All of this could only raise a single question:
What kind of being could possibly live inside?
As if answering that very question, someone stepped out of the wooden house.
Carrying a finely woven bamboo basket filled with worn clothes, a young girl ran down the steps, her shoulder-length blond hair fluttering behind her.
Even in the dim light, that blond hair somehow caught the glow, held neatly in place by a lovely headband decorated with a chain of blue flowers that added to her elegance.
A determined expression tightened her flushed face, matching the soft rhythm of her footsteps.
Her slender shoulders moved in sync with quick, pale strides, maintaining a straight posture that pushed her shoulders slightly back. Each step blended grace and cheerfulness into a single, effortless motion.
A movement that should've taken years of practice to perfect—yet she performed it as naturally as breathing.
Judging by her appearance, anyone watching would quickly assume she was around ten years old… perhaps even younger.
"I'm going to wash the clothes! Don't follow me!" the girl shouted, glancing briefly over her shoulder.
In the direction her eyes flicked, a hand shot out from the wide-open wooden door.
"Princess, please don't! Your beautiful fingers will get scratched! A-ahhh, His Majesty is going to kill me this time!!"
Chasing after her was a broad-shouldered middle-aged man. The man, who looked to be around fifty, lightly slapped the doorframe as he hurried down the steps in uneven jumps.
His face was filled with despair—completely ruining the elegance suggested by his hair, posture, and fine clothing.
"Old man, say one more thing about my body and I'll report you for sexual harassment!!"
Realizing she'd struck a nerve, the girl only quickened her pace, a soft laugh slipping from her lips.
That expression… it was the purest he had ever seen from her.
"Aghh!! Please consider my situation before doing that!"
The girl laughed again and escaped his reach. It took them a while to reach the river, where she began soaking the clothes she had brought.
The blond girl took charge of washing, while the middle-aged man stood a few steps behind, watching anxiously.
"Princess, isn't that enough? I can do the rest myself…" the old servant pleaded as he tried to step closer—but couldn't.
"Don't say it like I'm doing this for you."
Ignoring him entirely, she continued scrubbing the clothes against a wooden washboard.
Seeing her like this somewhat ruined the first impression, her posture resembled a grumpy middle-aged woman furiously scrubbing stains off precious fabric.
The scene would've made perfect sense if she were a stubborn granddaughter insisting on washing her grandfather's clothes out of genuine goodwill. But from the way they spoke to each other—and what they called each other—it was clear that wasn't their relationship.
"Huh? I'm not?"
"Of course not!!"
"So it's something like… you saying the opposite of what you mean? My, my, you really are ki—urghh!!"
Before he could finish his teasing, a rock the size of a baby's head flew straight toward him and struck his skull with a dull thud.
Dust from the stone clung to his forehead, only to be wiped away a moment later with his handkerchief.
"Honestly, I just want to experience these sorts of normal things… Being pampered by people like you makes me sick."
"Ywfhu relwwy han he whonest, han uh (You really can't be honest, can you)."
The old man muttered while rubbing his nose, which had begun to bleed slightly—apparently some of the smaller gravel had flown in and damaged the inside of his nostril.
But ignoring the noisy man beside her, the girl continued working, her focus never leaving the soap, water, washboard, or clothes. An hour passed, and she had finished her task. At some point, the old man had vanished without her noticing.
She placed the bamboo basket filled with freshly cleaned clothes off to the side and stepped away.
For a brief moment, her eyes drifted toward the outer edge of the river.
She knew her gaze had been noticed—but she couldn't see anything beyond the thickened fog. Only the faint sounds of rough breathing and distant footsteps reached her.
She decided to turn away. Staring at dangerous things only invited them closer.
As she leaned against a large rock and caught her breath, the old man suddenly reappeared—offering her a cup of tea.
"Please, have a drink."
The girl paused, wondering where he had gotten an expensive glass cup, dark tea, and a gleaming metal tray. But she kept those questions to herself.
If it's him, nothing should surprise me anymore.
"Thank you. I'll drink it."
She accepted it with unconscious elegance—a natural posture befitting royalty.
She drank the tea in one smooth motion, looking so picturesque from every angle that it almost begged to be painted. The old man thought she would explode in anger if he pointed that out, and as tempting as it was to be scolded by her, the reminder brought him back to something far more important.
Sensing the shift in atmosphere, the girl lifted her gaze, watching him quietly as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve.
Her improper gesture made him flinch inside, but he forced himself to ignore it and focus on what mattered.
"Princess, how long do you intend to stay here? You're not planning to bury me in this terrifying forest, are you?" He slipped in a small joke, hoping to soften the heavy tone.
The moment she heard it, the girl's eyes widened. She nodded slowly, as if the man had given her a brilliant idea—then let out a soft, amused giggle.
Somehow, that reaction made him furrow his brows.
The girl then lifted her gaze to the sky… no—to the layer of mist that covered it.
Perhaps she saw something similar between the two.
The mist was easy to see, yet she couldn't touch it, couldn't feel it. The world had given her only the right to look at it—nothing more.
"I still haven't found it. We'll stay a little longer."
"But you've been away from the palace for a full year. His Majesty may have exiled you, but that doesn't mean he truly cast you away."
"Why are you so sure? Give me a reason."
"Hm? Because I'm here with you, of course. Is there any better proof than that?"
"Tch…"
A small vein twitched on the girl's forehead. She couldn't argue back—because what the old man said was undeniably true.
Every word he spoke only worsened her mood, especially since he knew that mentioning the word King in front of her was a terrible idea, even though there were plenty of reasons he couldn't hold himself back this time.
One of those reasons was the simple fact that his young lady had been away from home far too long. Naturally, he needed to bring her back before something unpleasant happened—whether from outside forces or from within.
The girl pressed the bridge of her nose, trying to calm herself while running through a few possibilities.
"For some reason, I can feel it coming. Just a little longer… I'm sure I'll be able to make up my mind soon."
She opened her eyes slightly, staring straight at the old man.
But as if dismissing her determination entirely, the man looked back at her with absolutely no belief.
"You've said the same thing four times already—ever since our third month here…"
"Relax. This is the last. If it doesn't appear within the next three months, we'll leave this forest."
Seeing her insistence, he knew pushing any further would be pointless.
The old man exhaled. At the very least, he could still offer patience.
"Very well. I understand. Three more months. Not a day longer."
"I understand…"
The girl hopped to her feet, brushed off her skirt, and walked away—passing the old man without sparing him a single glance.
It seemed he had indeed ruined her mood.
"Ah, Princess…"
"What now? You're incredibly noisy today, Seba—"
"You forgot your laundry."
With a teasing tone, the old man pointed to the basket full of clothes beside him.
"….."
She turned back, grabbed the basket, and walked off again without a word.
A faint red tint colored both her ears.
"Pfft—"
"I'll make sure that King beheads you the moment we return," the princess muttered, placing her thumb against the base of her neck.
"AHH!! THAT'S COMPLETELY UNFAIR!!"