chapter 2
chapter 2
“What are you doing here 2”
The child who had been sitting turned her head.
The moment their eyes met, she drew in a breath. The boy’s eyes were a clear golden color, as if carved from transparent crystal.
Rosaria stared at that face as if enchanted and thought,
‘…He’s beautiful.’
Even in her young mind, the word graceful came naturally. His platinum hair swaying in the wind looked as smooth as silk spun from silver threads.
The child stood up, straightened his clothes, and bowed.
“I was enjoying the sunlight, Your Highness.”
Rosaria froze on the spot. It was surprising enough that he recognized her at once, but what startled her more was how he remained composed and polite even after she had spoken informally.
“…You knew it was me?”
“The embroidery on your dress bears the imperial crest.”
Rosaria absentmindedly fiddled with the end of her sleeve. He recognized me just from the embroidery?
“The young Duke of Castiya?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you alone?”
“I like quiet places.”
The moment she heard that answer, Rosaria found herself sitting beside him as if possessed. Her ears felt hot for no reason.
A strange feeling she couldn’t understand welled up inside her.
And that was when she learned his name was Lucia.
“Will you be here tomorrow too?”
Lucia thought for a moment before answering, “I’m not sure.” But Rosaria was certain.
He would be here tomorrow.
To confirm that certainty, she pestered her parents at the grand ducal residence, insisting stubbornly.
One day, Lucia simply lay down on the grass.
Goodness… it was so undignified.
A young duke of a martial family in the Empire, known for wielding magical combat with elegance and nobility, being this undignified—
And yet she lay down beside him.
She didn’t know why.
At that moment, clouds like soft cotton drifted across the sky.
“That cloud looks like a sheep.”
Lucia murmured.
‘In what way? It looks completely like a cat??’
“It looks like a cat.”
“It’s a sheep.”
“It’s a cat.”
Their eyes met.
Lucia let out a small laugh and turned his gaze back to the sky.
“…Alright, it’s a cat.”
When Rosaria looked up again after hearing his quiet voice, the cloud slowly began to look like a gentle sheep.
And so time piled up like petals. When Lucia made the mistake of speaking casually, Rosaria’s heart pounded before she could even think about etiquette.
“Just keep talking like that.”
Her lips parted, granting permission. And with his short reply, “Alright,” they grew a little closer.
Lucia was still in a dream.
Rosaria pulled a chair to the bedside and stared at his face for a long time before she couldn’t hold back anymore and carefully moved onto the edge of the bed.
“…Lucia.”
She called softly, but there was no answer. Rosaria lay beside him, curling up slightly.
Moonlight streamed in through the curtains, illuminating Lucia. She quietly watched him before turning her gaze to the ceiling.
His growth, changing from a boy into a man, kept stirring her heart.
That pretty little child who used to sit alone on the garden chair, staring blankly at the sky.
That bold child who recognized her as a princess at once and bowed the moment he saw her emerge from the bushes.
That Lucia who would stubbornly argue when she insisted it was a cat, only to eventually give in with a smile and say, ‘Alright, it’s a sheep.’
Now he was beginning to look down at her.
‘When did he grow up so much?’
Rosaria did not dislike this feeling. No, if anything, she grew impatient, wishing to become an adult as soon as possible.
As time passed, she would wear the most splendid and beautiful dress in the Empire and, as if it were only natural, take Lucia’s hand.
What kind of expression would Lucia make then?
Would he look down at her with different eyes than before?
Just imagining it made her heart tickle and her cheeks burn.
Rosaria reached out and gently played with the ends of Lucia’s platinum hair. The smooth strands brushing her fingertips told her this was not a dream.
She wanted to reach that future as soon as possible.
It was a winter with snow falling.
Unbelievable news tore through the imperial palace.
It was a lie.
It had to be a lie.
For the first time, Rosaria shouted at her parents and pushed away the butler who brought the news.
She had to see it with her own eyes.
With her red dress fluttering, she arrived at the grand ducal garden. Beneath the oak tree piled with snow, platinum hair reaching down to the waist scattered in the snowy wind.
A slender woman in a blue dress stood there.
Her heart pounded.
In a different way than usual.
“Rosaria…”
The moment she heard that name, Rosaria’s world stopped.
How could she forget
the familiar cadence hidden within that thinner voice
those brilliant golden eyes looking up at her
Unable to accept it, Rosaria spat out sharp words.
“Who are you to dare call my name.”
She could see the deep golden eyes trembling faintly.
“It’s me…”
“No! My Lucia isn’t like this!”
“Rosaria…”
“Don’t say my name.”
Forcing her stiff body to move, she stepped closer.
The Lucia who used to look down at her was now small enough to reach only her shoulder. She stretched out her hand and touched the ends of that fluttering hair. The sensation at her fingertips told her the truth.
“Lucia was taller than me.”
“…It’s because of the staff.”
“You expect me to believe it’s because of a staff?”
“I didn’t want this either.”
“Then turn back into a man right now.”
“I can’t.”
“Turn back!”
“I can’t, Rosaria. I don’t know how either!”
“So you expect me to believe you became a woman because of that ridiculous staff!?”
No matter how much she shook, Lucia looked at her with those unwavering eyes, just like before.
But now it was different. That gaze looking up at her from below felt unfamiliar and frightening.
The brilliant future where they would grow up together and walk hand in hand shattered beneath her feet.
“Why? Why did this happen, Lucia…”
Her voice sank to the ground.
“Did you become a woman because you hated me? Or were you deceiving me from the start?”
“It’s not like that. I touched the staff and changed. I didn’t know either.”
“Because of that ridiculous staff that no one in your family even knew about?”
She let out a short breath.
“Magic can’t do that. You know that too.”
“Ah… my magic…”
Lucia opened and closed her mouth as if she had something to say. Even those now softer lips irritated her.
“I can’t use magic anymore…”
“…What?”
That small, downcast face made her uncomfortable.
“It’s like you changed as the price of a wish. Didn’t you actually want to become a woman?”
Lucia flinched at the sharp question.
“A wish? No.”
“Maybe you held it somewhere in your heart.”
“……”
Four years of time she had spent forcing her way, pleading and insisting, riding a carriage for three long days to come here.
All of it crumbled into dust because of the prank of a single staff.
Unable to endure the pain swelling inside her, Rosaria turned it into anger and spat it out.
“Disgusting. Bearing the name of Castiya and standing there like that—it’s filthy.”
Lucia’s body froze like a statue.
She had to stop. She knew that if she said more, there would be no going back. But she couldn’t stop. If she did, she felt like she would collapse to her knees and cry like a child.
“Fix that repulsive appearance before I come back.”
She turned away and walked toward her attendants. She couldn’t tell whether what clung to the ends of her eyelashes were tears or snowflakes.
With each step she took away, her heart ached unbearably.
These cruel words were not meant for Lucia.
They were a scream directed at herself, unable to fill the gaping hole left by this sudden, overwhelming loss.
I can’t forgive you for making me this miserable.
It was a pitiful, desperate struggle to hide her own wounds by hurting him.
The fragments of Rosaria’s harsh words pierced coldly into Lucia’s skin.
Lucia’s gaze froze in midair. Through the falling snow, Rosaria’s crimson dress, growing distant, fluttered wildly like burning flames.
Rosaria’s face from just moments ago lingered like an afterimage.
It felt as though her anger-filled red eyes and pale face were still right in front of her.
Where there would usually be warmth in her gaze, only frost-like contempt remained.
Disgusting.
Filthy.
That was what she had said.
It wasn’t something Lucia had chosen.
Unconsciously, Lucia tried to reach out toward the retreating Rosaria, but the moment she saw her own hand in her vision, she withdrew it.
Rosaria’s back, looking as though she had no regrets, disappeared into the snow.
She did not look back even once.
When she was completely gone, Lucia weakly picked up the object buried in the snow.
The staff, unaware of its owner’s feelings, glowed indifferently in her hand.
“I understand….”