The Ones Left Behind

"My favorite poem."

The day Anna unnie pushed Aris off the cliff.

My world lost all its color.

Nothing could make me laugh.

No one could make me happy.

Perfectly grilled meat gave off a nose-stinging stench, and buttered bread was so greasy it made me want to vomit.

When I dreamed, Aris—dripping blood from every inch of her body—greeted me.

She could have spat bitter resentment at me, the incompetent fool who failed to save her, but instead she smiled with all her might, just like the sweet little sister who was kind to everyone. I'd snap awake in my empty room, sobbing alone.

It was cold.

The bed that always felt too narrow now seemed impossibly vast.

And that felt so heartbreakingly sad.

A month passed after that.

No rain falls forever.

No sky stays sunny forever.

The dark clouds over the Royal Palace slowly lifted, and people began returning to their daily lives.

Everything Anna unnie had done sank beneath the surface, and the blame fell entirely on Akiten Duke, who had cursed her with shamanism.

Aris's records, the shamanic earring found at the scene, the maid's testimony, the suspect's flight.

There wasn't even a trial.

The harshest punishment possible was handed down—because nothing more brutal existed.

Naturally, our parents forgave Anna unnie.

Even though she'd killed her little sister, she was still family, under mental attack from the curse, deeply repentant and regretful—and above all, it could cause massive chaos for the kingdom.

So the truth was buried.

Only the fabricated lies would be recorded.

I couldn't bear it. It felt like an insult to Aris's death—her desperate struggle to endure Anna unnie's assault.

Yeah. I know.

I know.

I'm not so foolish as to deny it.

My head forgave Anna unnie.

She was a victim too, a pitiful person. Aris, who never rebelled, would want me to forgive her. That's what I thought.

But.

But my heart couldn't fully forgive her.

Disappointment, betrayal, irritation, malice, disillusionment, annoyance, revulsion, rage.

Every time I saw Anna unnie buried in her studies like a madwoman, my chest burned like fire.

There were elements to pity, sure, but that handful of water couldn't douse the raging flames.

That good child.

Our sweet little sister, kinder than anyone, always thinking of others first.

—Killed out of mere inferiority complex.

I didn't know everything about shamanism, but I knew the basics.

The earring's curse wasn't some powerful hex. A secret investigation confirmed it only amplified emotions and adjusted anxiety—nothing else.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

—Anna unnie chose to kill Aris of her own will.

You killed her.

You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠killed Aris.

You trampled the writhing child in pain, tormented her, savored it.

You slashed her mercilessly with a knife and killed her so brutally even her body couldn't be found.

How could you?

How could you do that to the child who loved you more than anyone?

I grabbed her collar and demanded: Was Aris's talent that enviable?

You, who would inherit the throne and have everything—did you kill the sacrificial child who always put her big sister first, all for that?

Knowing that brutal truth made it impossible for me to forgive her.

Anna unnie said nothing.

I'll never forgive her. Not her, not our parents who forgave her, not anyone connected to her.

All of them.

For life.

Forever.

A month passed.

Even news that seemed immeasurable in grief fades with time.

You can't grieve forever, can you?

The bards who praised Aris's wisdom, the maids who kidnapped her with me to change her clothes in secret, the knights who watched her sparring—they all returned to their duties.

The Royal Palace slowly regained its vitality.

Everyone was going back to those harmonious days.

After today's routine, they'd unwind from the fatigue and prepare for tomorrow.

They'd return to their havens with smiles.

But.

But you know.

Even now, Aris is down there in the icy depths, desperately calling our names one by one.

Moaning from hunger in those depths, longing for someone to find her.

It hurts, save me, I'm lonely.

But why, how?

In a world where Aris isn't happy—how can you smile?

Clink. The clock hand fell off.

Everyone else's clocks ticked fine, but mine alone had stopped, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lonely and still with a thud.

How can you forget Aris and live looking toward tomorrow?

I can't forget even if I try.

My world has stopped.

Every day felt suffocating.

Insanely suffocating.

Rage surged without reason; I wanted to smash everything in sight.

This burning emotion, this outpouring feeling.

But I can't.

Because Aris wouldn't want it.

I have no right—me, who couldn't grab her falling hand, who spent sleepless nights researching shamanism in worry but failed to notice her.

So in the end, all those arrows turned inward.

Incompetence, heartache, regret, depression, misery, grief, isolation.

And murderous intent toward myself.

"Uwaaaaaaaaah—!!!!"

"...!!"

The lost emotions snowballed, growing ever larger.

I poured them all into—

".....?!"

"—Ha."

Whoosh. I swung the sword.

Shaaa.

"Lady Remi's growth is astounding."

"........"

Shaaa.

"And next year, Lady Remi's enrollment in the academy has been confirmed."

"......."

Shaaa.

"Did you sleep well?"

"........"

In the quiet room, filled only with the sound of turning pages, an old man kneeling broke the silence.

He methodically reported the day's events.

Feyrn, former knight commander.

Once Aris's sword instructor.

Now Remi's.

His report dragged on, but the girl turning pages—Anna Akaia—showed no sign of stopping.

No, she gave no reaction at all.

She just silently turned the pages, doing her duty.

Even faced with what could be called cold-shouldering or rudeness, Feyrn continued without a hint of concern.

He was used to it.

Most of the report was observations on Lady Remi now.

Disownment.

Severance.

Who could have guessed the two princesses, once thought inseparable, would end up like this?

No one saw ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it coming.

Remi treated Anna as nonexistent to hide her betrayal, rage, murderous intent.

Anna couldn't face her little sister out of guilt.

Feyrn's reports aimed to bridge that gap, even slightly.

But their bond was no longer close enough for that.

"—Feyrn."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Thud. The book she'd flipped to the end closed.

Anna's eyes gleamed sharply, as if they could slice with a glare alone.

In a voice even colder, she commanded.

"Withdraw."

"......"

"I have more work, and I want to focus."

After Aris's death, Anna Akaia threw herself into studies without sleeping more than three hours a day.

Even that short sleep ended with her waking in cold sweats, muttering something.

Everyone worried for her health and urged rest, but she never did.

Perhaps her mania for study was to flee her dreams.

Dreams brought back those memories.

Blood-soaked hands, screams piercing even blocked ears, pleas for mercy.

She dreaded tomorrow.

Because she had to sleep.

Seeing the rising sun was agony.

Of course, her academic achievements soared in proportion, but Feyrn couldn't simply rejoice.

Corpse. Doll.

Anyone seeing Anna Akaia now would describe her that way.

A living corpse.

A soulless doll.

The only thing moving her like this was her little sister, no longer of this world.

"Will you remain longer?"

".....I await your command."

What a tragedy.

Creeeak.Feyrn thought as he closed the unoiled door.

Too tragic.