The Prince's Wish

'Of course he's cold and matter-of-fact.'

In this brutal society where children have to work for a living, there was no reason to get angry at an attitude like that.

Besides, he was a phantom conjured up by the tower in the first place.

'So where am I supposed to go now?'

The swallow that had been flying through the sky was no longer in sight, and the boy had left too.

Which meant I should be tailing the boy, right? As I was mulling that over, I heard a sound I'd heard earlier.

"Chirp, chirp..."

A bird's cry — far more listless than the cry of the bird that had been wheeling through the sky just before.

Only then did I spot the swallow, fallen into a corner of the alley.

I approached it carefully... but I couldn't bring myself to touch it.

'Should I treat it? I don't have any supplies.'

The feathers on the swallow's left wing were slightly shorter than those on its right.

I couldn't even tell whether a few feathers had been plucked or cut off.

"Hey there, handsome young man. Chirp?"

"...Me?"

The swallow lifted its head with effort and moved its beak as it looked up at me.

Quite a folksy way of speaking for a Western swallow.

When I let out a dumbfounded voice, the swallow gave a weak flutter of its black feathers.

"Who else would it be, if not a young man?"

"...I'd rather you call me a grown man, actually."

"All right, grown man. Chirp..."

"Are you hurt? I don't have any salve on me right now, so—"

"A salve? Chirp?"

'Ah, right — they wouldn't have salves in this era.'

Judging by the boy's outfit from earlier, there would probably be some kind of medicinal treatment available — but then again, how would a swallow know about human medicine?

"It's fine! The tips of my feathers just got a little singed, so I was drying them in the wind!"

Singed feathers, in a town this cold.

Had it gotten too close to some bonfire somewhere?

"I have to go report right away. Chirp—!"

"W-wait, just a moment...!"

The swallow, which had been lying limply on the ground, suddenly beat its wings and lifted into the air.

I reached out toward its unsteady ascent, but it was no use.

The bird paid me no mind and staggered away into the distance, flying clumsily.

'I suppose I'd better follow it.'

Before I lost sight of the swallow, I hurried my steps.

It was still just a hunch, but with period clothing and architecture that evoked old England — and a swallow, at that...

There was an artwork that came to mind.

"Huff, huff... Just as I thought."

That artwork, which I remembered from long ago, appeared to be the correct answer.

Where ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the swallow, barely staying aloft, slowly descended once more and alighted was—

"Your Highness! Your Highness~!"

the statue of the Prince standing at the center of the town square.

The Prince, already stripped of his gold and jewels, reduced to a pitiful shell of himself.

This was the world of Oscar Wilde's fairy tale, The Happy Prince.

'How did The Happy Prince end again? If I recall—'

"Docent. Summarize the plot of The Happy Prince for me."

I whispered in a small voice, careful not to let the swallow or the statue hear me.

The Docent ability activated, and a leaflet relating to The Happy Prince unfolded before my eyes.

Rustle—

'So only after seeing poverty and suffering does he understand. How very aristocratic of him.'

I read the rest of the story, snarking to myself.

'But if all the jewels were already stripped off like that, the swallow should be dead and the statue torn down.'

So why were the two of them perfectly fine?

'Like before, the original story must have been changed.'

I needed to figure out exactly what had changed from their conversation.

I quietly observed them from behind, careful not to interrupt the exchange between the swallow and the Prince's statue.

"Swallow. What happened? It looks like the tips of your wings are singed a little. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, chirp! All those lanterns floating in the sky nearly did me in, but I made it through without a scratch!"

Perhaps it didn't want to look frail in front of the Prince's statue.

The swallow beat its wings vigorously, even striking a brave pose.

The expression on the statue's face never changed.

But judging by his benevolent gaze, he was probably smiling.

"Magnificent as ever. Every bit as resourceful as a swallow should be, serving at my side."

"Heehee."

A tale of a Prince and a swallow who sacrifice their own bodies for the sake of the townsfolk.

Watching them laugh together so warmly, I felt my heart soften in spite of myself.

'...Consideration that ideal is only possible in a fairy tale, I suppose.'

"I delivered a shard of the red ruby to the princess of the East. Chirp!"

'The princess of the East?'

The swallow never mentioned the princess's name, but connecting it to the way the floors had linked together so far...

"Just as you said, Your Highness, the princess's heart has grown wonderfully warm thanks to the ruby!"

"Good. The princess has more than enough jewels. But the warmth she truly longs for is nowhere to be found in that palace."

'He means Tunang.'

Clearly proud of having carried out her mission so successfully, the swallow kept chirping away at the top of her voice.

"Her father showed her love, and we helped too — so the princess's ice will begin to melt now."

"But, Your Highness. Weren't you only supposed to help the poor? Chirp?"

The Prince, gazing down at the puzzled swallow as she cocked her head back and forth, let out a light laugh.

"Wouldn't the poor of heart need help just as much?"

"...!! You truly are the Prince, chirp!!"

Moved by his words, the swallow's eyes sparkled yet again.

'The Prince can't move, so he has no choice — but even so, the swallow is working far too hard.'

Truth be told, the swallow had been planning to fly off to the southern lands, but somehow the Prince's words had drawn her into this service.

If she'd never met the Prince's statue, she would have gone south and lived happily ever after.

'Interpreting it this way, Oscar Wilde would be furious up in heaven.'

"By the way. Who is that young man over there?"

At last their conversation wound down, and the Prince's statue turned the topic toward me.

So far, the differences from the original were that the swallow could travel between worlds.

And that kindness was extended even to those who weren't economically destitute.

"He's a climber! The princess of the East, whose heart was once so cold, called him a good man — a benefactor!"

"Oh ho."

Was this dialogue something every visitor who cleared the 22nd-floor exhibition would automatically hear?

Or was it reserved only for me and Jang Siwoon? There was no way to know.

'Either way, I hope Tunang's life stays happy, at least until another visitor climbs up here.'

After all, it would be a life free of her obsession with her parents.

...Her obsession with her parents...

"Brrr, it's cold. Chirp..."

The swallow, who had barely endured the chill until now, shivered and even sneezed.

"I still haven't made it to the southern lands, all because you kept asking for more favors, Your Highness! Chirp!"

"Haha."

The swallow jabbed at the Prince in a sulky tone.

It wasn't anger — there was no genuine resentment behind it.

The words of the swallow and the Prince alike were full of love for each other.

And yet it felt as though the swallow were the one making the greater sacrifice.

'Probably because the Prince asked her to serve alongside him, and because he seems like a being far larger than a little bird.'

Like parent and child.

"You pity the swallow, don't you. Beautiful young man."

"I'm sorry?"

"See? A good young man. Chirp!"

The Prince's statue and the showered me with compliments that felt overwhelming.

Just as I was starting to feel awkward under the sudden attention, the statue turned back to the swallow.

"Then, Swallow — go now. Fly to the warm southern lands."

Huh?

'The story's changing again.'

For things to follow the original, this was where the swallow should be unable to leave, freezing to death at the Prince's side.

"Thank you, Your Highness! Chirp! Now I can finally leave with peace of mind!"

Aside from the singed tips of her wings, the swallow was unnervingly healthy.

And since no crowd was gathering around, it seemed the Prince wasn't slated for demolition anytime soon either.

'Wait a moment.'

Then, surely not...

Just as the ominous thought flashed through my mind, the swallow looked at me and opened her beak.

"Then, handsome grown man — please look after His Highness! You'll have to help plenty of people. Chirp!"

'Damn it, am I the swallow's replacement?'

"Wait, don't go!"

"Chirp?"

I desperately grabbed at the swallow as she rose to fly.

As I'd thought earlier, the world inside this tower did diverge from the original story.

Even so, the idea of becoming a stand-in for a swallow that froze to death left a sour taste in my mouth.

"Do the quest with me! I can't fly through people's windows and into their homes like you can!"

"Then... must I freeze to death in this town...? Chirp...?"

'So it's fine if I freeze to death instead, is that it?'

Watching the swallow tear up made me want to laugh at the absurdity — but

given how the quest worked, I'd already realized the swallow was going to leave anyway.

I gave up on holding her back, turned my head aside, and clicked my tongue.

"Ha. Fine. Either way, the quest's mine to do alone, so go on."

"Thank you! I knew you were a kind soul. Chirp!"

'Ha. Ordering me to do everything and then calling me kind.'

"Farewell, Swallow. Go well. Let us meet again next spring."

"...You take care of yourself too, Your Highness. I mean it. Chirp."

"Yes, yes."

Until the very last moment, the swallow gazed at the Prince with eyes full of affection.

There was worry in that look, and lingering regret at leaving the statue behind — but in the end, the swallow soared into the sky.

Flap—

The Prince, staring endlessly after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the shrinking swallow, at last turned toward me.

Since he couldn't move his face, it was really only the light in his eyes that turned.

"Young man. Will you now share your kindness with those who need it, at my side?"

"Ha... Yes. Since that's the only answer there is, let's give it a try."

Before I knew it, I was answering the Prince with a grumbling, dismissive tone.

"Does being forced into it by duty make helping others distasteful to you?"

The Prince's statue saw straight through me.

I doubted he'd simply deduced it from my snarky tone.

Just as the Curator read my mind and needled me, this tower too must grasp what lay inside me and rub me the wrong way.

"You no longer wish to be good."

"...No, I don't."

There was no other visitor around, so I decided to simply be honest and admit it.

"Your heart has grown far colder than it once was."

"......"

I couldn't even remember anymore how warm my heart used to be.

Even back then, my kindness had been contradictory — so what meaning did it have then, or now?

'Forget it. Kim Jisan, who has no talent for anything but being good, can finally be acknowledged inside this tower now.'

Leaving others behind ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and walking away still pained me — but I was growing numb to it little by little, so it was fine.

Thanks to my art knowledge, I had become a useful existence inside this tower.

'I have value. That's enough.'

"How did you come to be this way?"

"How, you ask... To make my heart warm again. There are things I must sacrifice to climb this tower."

Once I had my wish granted and returned to the past, I could bring ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my parents back to life.

And then, kindness would return to my heart as well.

I would be able to face my parents not as the contradictory kindness I am now, but as a Kim Jisan with real worth.

"And can you help others with that cold heart of yours, even now?"

"...I thought I no longer had any talent for that."

But if I dredged up that fragile remnant of a heart still clinging to me like residue, it was possible.

"I carried it with me for a long time, you see. If I imitate what I used to do, I can manage."

"...Very well."

My phrasing — 'imitate' — seemed to have rubbed the Prince the wrong way.

But he was a being of boundless moral character, so he did not rebuke me.

"However, Your Highness. I'm a human being, not a swallow. I'm afraid I can't fly off carrying your jewels in my mouth."

"That is nothing to worry about."

Rustle—