Chapter 6
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 6
Her mother was overjoyed that Thalia’s name would finally be entered into the Imperial Family Registry, but Thalia loathed every second spent in this alien place. As Senevia’s focus shifted entirely toward renovating the castle, Thalia’s anxiety only grew more acute.
The Imperial Palace was a bleak, terrifying fortress—nothing like the fairy tale her mother had described. Sharp, judgmental glares followed her through every corridor, and the servants were even colder than the attendants back at the Taren estate.
She felt like a child who had lost her way. Whenever the opportunity arose, she would slip out of her room to wander near the Annex Palace.
She was particularly drawn to the rear garden. Because Senevia had ordered every flower and tree uprooted to erase all traces of the former Empress, the grounds had been turned into a desolate wreck. While ornate rose bushes and colorful shrubs were beginning to fill the entrances of the Main and Annex Palaces, the backyard—where landscaping was still underway—was nothing but a chaotic mess of dirt mounds. Consequently, no one ever went there.
Whenever the whispering and the stinging glares became too much to bear, Thalia would spend her time staring blankly into space in a corner of that ruined garden.
That day, she was out in the backyard of the Annex Palace again, hiding from her overbearing nanny and the maid who had a habit of jabbing a sharp comb into her scalp while insisting on braiding her hair. Not a single worker was in sight due to the rain that had begun falling at noon. Thalia crouched in a corner of the empty garden, watching the raindrops fall.
After some time, a faint whistle drifted through the air.
Looking around with a bewildered expression, Thalia felt drawn toward the outer edge of the grounds. Where a massive, ancient tree had stood just that morning, there was now only a deep, hollow pit.
Thalia approached the high pile of dirt and looked down. A small bird was floundering in the mire, letting out pitiful, desperate cries.
Did it fall from the tree?
The bird looked as if it could die at any moment. Heavy raindrops pelted its soaked brown body relentlessly, and clumps of dark-red, tar-like mud were swallowing its thin legs and scruffy wings. The bird’s persistent cries eventually faded into a faint trembling.
Watching the scene while hunched over, Thalia unconsciously stepped into the pit.
It was a foolish move. Despite her careful steps, the ground—turned into a swamp by the rain—instantly swallowed her shoes. She twisted her body to pull her foot out, but she lost her balance and slid into the mud.
Falling face-first into the puddle, Thalia shook her head irritably as the fishy taste of muddy water seeped between her lips. The green dress her nanny had just finished was ruined, and mud was matted into her neatly braided hair.
A surge of annoyance rose within her. She stood up, muttering a curse under her breath.
Who cares about some bird? Why did I do something so stupid...
As she grumbled and tried to climb out of the pit, she heard that faint cry again. It was so weak she might have missed it if she wasn’t listening closely, but to Thalia, it sounded like the bird was screaming.
In the end, she took a few more steps into the black puddle. There, she saw the pathetic brown wings and a limp little head submerged in the muddy water.
...Is it dead already?
When she carefully picked up the young bird, she felt its tiny, soaked body pulsing faintly. It was still alive. She cupped the lukewarm body in both hands and blew her warm breath onto it. The limp bird gaped its small brown beak and fluttered its thin wings piteously. It was struggling with all its might to live.
Seeing this, something tightened in her chest.
Thalia didn’t know what that feeling was. She couldn’t understand why her heart ached for this young bird—homeless, abandoned by its mother, and struggling in the mire—now resting in her palms.
She tucked the bird carefully against the warmest part of her neck. Then, she looked up at the steep, slippery mud slope with a sense of hopelessness. The dirt mounds had grown even softer under the intensifying rain. She tried a few steps, but it was impossible to walk up. To get out, she would have to crawl on all fours like a beast.
Thalia gritted her teeth. She couldn’t abandon the little bird she’d just saved, nor could she throw away her dignity as a princess and crawl through the mud like livestock.
So, Thalia stood still for a long time, soaked by the cold, drizzling rain.
That was when a boy emerged through the misty, gray downpour.
He was very tall, wearing a black robe like a monk’s with the hood pulled low. However, Thalia could clearly see his pale, glowing blue eyes through the white veil of rain. They were incredibly beautiful eyes.
“What are you doing there?” the blue-eyed boy asked, leaning toward her.
His voice was chilling, ill-suited for his delicate, youthful face. Thalia felt a shiver run down her spine. At the time, she thought it was just the cold. But looking back now, she realized she’d had a faint premonition the moment she heard that voice—that the boy with the indifferent face looking down at her would eventually push her life into a hellish agony.
If she had recognized the nature of that sensation that day, Thalia would have thrown the gasping bird back into the mud and crawled up the slope on all fours like a pig, knowing neither filth nor shame. Then she would have run far, far away from the blue-eyed boy. She would have erased the very fact that she had seen him from her mind forever.
But the eight-year-old Thalia had no idea the boy appearing in the rain would become her despair. So, she looked up at him and snapped in her usual thorny tone.
“Can’t you see? I fell in the pit and I can’t get out.”
The boy’s eyes narrowed. He looked like he wanted to ask why she had gone in there in the first place. But instead of asking, he slid down into the pit toward her, unbothered by his well-tailored trousers and expensive leather boots getting soiled by the mud.
Thalia watched him with a startled expression. She hadn’t expected such an action from a boy with a face so cold he looked like he wouldn’t bleed if pricked.
He strode across the swamp-like mud. Up close, the boy looked even taller than he had from above. He seemed at least a head taller than her. Reaching her with his long, lithe legs, the boy held out a hand.
“Take it.”