The Transparent Wall
They indulged in crushed fruit juices and sweet confections, and she bought little trinkets of flower petals preserved in hardened resin.
Having stood beneath the shower of blossoms for so long, stray petals clung all through the long tresses of her hair, making her look for all the world like a flower fairy. When Debbie offered to brush them out, Titania had insisted on leaving them be as souvenirs of the day. As a result, with every light, buoyant step she took, three or four petals drifted lazily into the open air.
Humming a cheerful tune, she picked out simple wood-carved ornaments—one for every member of their party—and pressed them into their hands, playfully insisting that they must keep them to remember today. Even when the hour grew truly late and it was finally time to return, she bid everyone farewell with an unfaltering, radiant expression.
It was no different when they boarded the carriage and arrived back at the Castrein Southern Villa. Still smiling warmly, her cheeks flushed pink with lingering excitement, she announced, "Thank you so much for today, everyone. Sleep well!" With that delightfully breezy parting, she turned on her heel and ascended to her room without a single backward glance.
After wishing her a good night in return, Raymon lingered for a long time, staring silently at the empty space where Titania had just stood. A few scattered petals lay upon the polished floor. Hesitating for a brief moment, Raymon bent down and gathered them with his own hands.
Infinitely delicate, the petals crumpled at the slightest touch. Gazing down at the tiny violet petals he had carefully lifted into his palm—unable to bring himself to discard them, yet fearful of crushing them in a closed fist—Raymon was broken from his reverie by a sudden voice.
"Hyung."
Lisianthus did not wear his usual mischievous grin.
Perhaps it was the dimness settling over the hall, but he seemed a far cry from the boy who had just been laughing boisterously in the streets, cracking jokes about every little trinket Titania bought. While Raymon had followed silently in her footsteps the entire evening, Lisianthus's red eyes—burning like live embers in the dark—now fixed intently upon his brother's golden gaze.
"Earlier was fun, wasn't it? Thinking back on it, Bibi probably would have been fine coming down here with us. Though I still agree it was safer for her to stay behind so she wouldn't get caught up in anything dangerous."
"I am glad you enjoyed yourself."
"Her Imperial Highness smiled an awful lot today."
It was a seemingly disjointed remark, yet Raymon offered no reply. Lisianthus stepped slowly to his brother's side and gave a faint shrug.
"She's smiled in front of me plenty of times before. But seeing her today... it suddenly hit me. All the smiles she showed us until now were completely fake. The thought just gripped me, and I could hardly breathe."
"..."
"She really did seem grateful tonight. Buying all those things, laughing, thrusting souvenirs onto you and me. Usually, she makes it painfully obvious whenever something feels like an unwanted burden. But today... she just smiled and enjoyed herself comfortably, like any normal girl her age."
Even as the words left his mouth, Lisianthus was struck by the dissonance.
That was it. Until now, they had never once seen her laugh and play like an ordinary girl her age.
How bizarre that truly was.
He had simply failed to notice it before, blinded by her tempestuous energy—the cheerful madness with which she would demand he set tree branches ablaze with his magic and charge straight into danger.
Titania never threw unreasonable tantrums.
Even when forced to spend entire days waving and smiling before crowds alongside High Priest Ilian, not a single complaint ever escaped her lips. Then again, she was someone of unyielding will who had brushed against death multiple times without breaking. Perhaps they should have expected as much.
In another sense, her habit of keeping her mouth shut and bearing everything in silence made her the spitting image of Raymon.
Lisianthus thought back to how extreme Raymon had been lately. Ever since Titania nearly lost her life, Raymon had behaved almost fanatically. Naturally, an ambush by a swarm of demonic beasts was an absolute emergency, warranting an aggressive response from the main Castrein house. Even on the day of the Offering Festival, Raymon's nerves had been strung to the breaking point. Of course, Titania had resolved that situation herself, swinging her sword with a fierce attitude of 'I will save myself!' but still...
"Are you really all right, Hyung?"
Titania had always maintained an invisible, transparent wall between herself and the world.
Tonight, that wall had seemed to soften just a fraction. Because she had smiled at them with an expression that looked so fragile, as though she were about to crumble into tears.
And in that exact moment, Lisianthus had seen Raymon freeze in place—looking so utterly dazed that he wouldn't have been able to parry an ambush even if an enemy lunged straight at his throat.
There was no way Lisianthus could have missed it. He had already guessed as much when Raymon combed the entire region like a madman searching for traces of demonic beasts. In truth, it would be a lie to claim he hadn't noticed even earlier than that.
"And what if I am not?"
Raymon's reply caught Lisianthus off guard. His voice sounded rough and rusted, scraped raw from swallowing the words he wanted to say time and time again.
"If I am not all right... is there another answer?"
"..."
Lisianthus recalled the wooden souvenir Raymon had carefully tucked into the pocket over his chest. And he remembered his own share, which he was treasuring like a priceless relic just the same.
It was truly nothing grand. A crude carving of a flower, a butterfly, or an animal, slapped with a simple coat of paint. In size, it barely spanned two finger-joints.
For an imperial princess raised amidst only the finest luxuries of the palace to select such things and say, 'Let's each have one!' was almost suspiciously modest.
Yet there was no one present who could have brought themselves to refuse a gift offered with such a radiant smile. And so, Lisianthus could only offer a helpless, resigned retort.
"No." His voice was deeply bitter and sour. "There isn't. At least... not right now."
The ground floor of the tavern was a deafening roar of clinking tankards and drunken singing. It was the kind of cheap dive where no one could possibly eavesdrop on a conversation unless they shouted directly into your ear.
"Lend you men? I haven't got a thing to my name."
Right in the middle of it all, Adrian let out a booming laugh.
Though he was the legitimate son of the Empress, he was the second prince and had long been pushed outside the Emperor's favor. Adrian had decided to make the absolute most of that neglect.
Simply drifting through high society banquets and playing the part of a well-mannered noble would never allow him to seize practical power.
Thanks to his mother's station, a handful of high-ranking aristocrats who cared about bloodline legitimacy leaned toward him, but the current Emperor openly doted on Brian and Imperial Noble Consort Cleo. Fearing they might incur the Emperor's wrath, everyone was lying low.
Realizing he would find little success through conventional means, Adrian had taken to slipping out of the Imperial Palace under the radar, fishing for useful connections in the underbelly of the city.
To be specific, he dressed in commoner's garb and frequented dives where mercenaries gathered. The swordsmanship that even the Emperor knew nothing about had been forged through these very covert outings. In fact, quite a few of his drinking buddies would choke on their spit if they ever discovered he was an imperial prince.
Yet, however politically toothless the Empress might appear, she was more than capable of concealing her own son's excursions beyond the palace walls.
Had Cleo caught wind of it, she certainly would have seized the opportunity to have Adrian murdered. Thus, whenever Adrian vacated the palace, an attendant who shared an uncanny resemblance to him acted as his double, remaining dutifully by the Empress's side. Furthermore, since neither the Empress nor Adrian rarely stepped outside the Empress Palace in plain view, there was little reason for anyone to suspect a thing.
And so, Adrian had slipped out for the first time in ages, sitting down at his regular haunt and excitedly ordering a fresh ale.
Or at least, he would have downed that cold beer in one magnificent gulp—if not for the young girl who had slipped into the seat across from him as if she had been lying in wait, chirping a demand to 'lend her some men.'
"Your alias lacks serious effort, Your Highness. 'Rian'? Anyone with ears could tell that's just a pet name for Adrian."
Adrian stared at the primly spoken girl across from him with a look of utter, dumbfounded disbelief.
The youngest daughter of House Castrein—the very child his half-sister Titania had risked her life to save. Rumor had it that despite her tender years, she was a remarkably shrewd operator who had thoroughly melted the hearts of the iron-blooded duke and his notoriously stubborn household. He had caught glimpses of her and exchanged a few pleasantries while Titania was convalescing in the Empress Palace.
But that was the extent of it. He had never dreamed in his wildest imaginings that they would cross paths like this, in a place like this.
"The name 'Rian' has built quite a reputation for itself, you know. I had no idea your swordsmanship was so exceptional. Then again, I didn't realize playing the Second Prince of the Empire was so effortless that you could moonlight as a high-ranking mercenary on the side."
Her adorable, squirrel-like face curled into a sunny, cherubic smile. Adrian felt a chill run down his spine.
Come to think of it, not a single one of the familiar regulars he saw every day was present. While the tables were occupied by seemingly ordinary folk who looked like typical laborers of the district—drinking and eating just enough to avoid suspicion—the truth suddenly dawned on him.
They're all decoys.
Just what kind of strings had she pulled? To orchestrate the clearing of an entire tavern just to corner him for a private chat...
"Well now, Lady Castrein... Look, I don't mind that you've blown the cover identity I literally risk my neck to maintain, nor do I mind you insulting my taste in pseudonyms. But asking to borrow men? I genuinely haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
Adrian decided his only option was to throw his hands up in defeat. He simply couldn't handle the sheer audacity of the girl sitting across from him, her bright blue eyes gleaming with clever calculation.