Riersha turned out to be far more suspicious by nature than anyone had expected.
That wariness had been shaped by years of solitude — years spent entirely alone.
Which meant waiting for Riersha to come to him had been the wrong approach. He should have gone to her first.
He should have made sure she felt it — that she was loved, that she was wanted. He should have confirmed it for her.
But even Pernoa had struggled to find his footing with a child he hadn’t seen in four years. He hadn’t known how to reach her.
He’d been careful not to rush, afraid that moving too quickly would startle her and push her away.
And yet, in that careful stillness, Riersha had been drifting further from him all along.
“Riersha — do you find me difficult to approach?”
Riersha, who had been gazing quietly up at him, shook her head.
“No.”
“That sounds like a polite lie.”
“I really mean it, though…”
And she did.
In the beginning, yes — he had been difficult. But not anymore.
Because now she understood his heart.
If she was being honest, there were still moments that felt awkward. But it no longer felt bad.
Because she was certain now.
Certain that if she reached out to Pernoa, he wouldn’t turn her away.
So it didn’t matter anymore.
“He’s not difficult at all,” Riersha said, her face open and bright. She smiled — soft and unhurried.
“Because now I know how Papa feels.”
She worked her mouth carefully around each word as she explained, trying her best to say it right.
“I see.”
The conversation faded, but the two of them walked on through the garden for a long while after that.
Hand in hand, fingers intertwined.
No matter how far they walked, Riersha never felt tired.
She simply loved this — this quiet, unhurried time.
I hope I can be this happy for the rest of my life.
It was a small, gentle wish.
⁂
She woke early.
Today was the Crown Prince’s birthday.
There would be a banquet at the imperial palace, and the capital’s night market would run past midnight, or so she’d been told.
Riersha looked out at the pale grey light bleeding through the window.
“Brother Risideon!”
The moment she remembered that Risideon was entering the palace early this morning, she slipped down from the bed.
She threw open her bedroom door still in her nightgown. A maid passing through the corridor startled at the sight of her.
It was far too early for a child to be awake.
“You’re up already, Lady Riersha?”
“Yes. Where’s Brother Risideon?”
“Ah — the young master is getting ready to depart for the palace right now.”
“Can I go in?”
“…Yes, that should be fine, though — shouldn’t you sleep a little longer?”
“I’m fine.”
Riersha knocked on the door of the room next to hers.
A moment later, Risideon’s voice came from within.
“Come in, Riersha.”
The moment she heard his permission, she opened the door and stepped inside.
Risideon had already been up for some time — he was nearly finished preparing for his departure.
He wore a formal uniform of deep black, silver embroidery stitched neatly across the fabric, lending him a composed and stately air. He was tall enough to draw any eye in any room.
At the imperial banquet, he would undoubtedly be the most striking person there.
Even so, Riersha’s face scrunched into something close to tears.
“Brother, are you leaving without eating breakfast?”
“It looks that way, yes.”
“But you didn’t eat yesterday either!”
Riersha fixed him with a stubborn stare.
And for good reason — just the evening before, Risideon had not appeared at the dinner table at all.
“Would you like some help getting ready, Lady Riersha?”
One of the maids, finishing her work nearby, asked carefully.
Risideon nodded his approval.
Given how early she’d woken, there was a chance Riersha might drift back to sleep before long.
“Very well, then. Allow me to help you get dressed, Lady Riersha. If you’ll come this way.”
“Okay.”
Riersha submitted to the maid’s ministrations without fuss, though her eyes kept drifting back to Risideon on the other side of the room.
Risideon, who knew very well what she was worrying about, smiled faintly.
“I still have two hours before I have to leave, so put your mind at ease, Riersha.”
“…Really?”
“Of course.”
He moved to the sofa behind the mirror, settling in to keep her company while she was dressed.
Riersha relaxed and sat quietly.
Before long, she was ready.
Her pink hair had been gathered into a half-updo, and the full, knee-length dress she wore made her look utterly adorable. Every step set the wide skirts fluttering in a charming, delicate way.
The small ribbon accents scattered across the dress only added to the effect — since heavy jewellery was hardly fitting for a young child, the ribbons had been chosen to give the ensemble its character instead.
Riersha turned a slow circle in front of the mirror.
“Brother. How do I look?”
“You look beautiful, Riersha.”
Riersha quickly clambered up onto the sofa beside him.
The expression on Risideon’s face shifted, just barely, to something shadowed.
He understood now why she had woken so early.
“Are you worried I’ll choose to stay at the palace?”
The question struck true. Riersha flinched.
“…Yes. I’m worried.”
She hesitated a moment, then answered honestly.
“I want to go home with you.”
The evening before.
Riersha had not been able to focus through the entire meal.
“Hmm? Risideon still hasn’t come, Pernoa. You there — go and fetch him.”
“No. There’s no need.”
If she was being truthful, she had felt a flash of resentment toward Pernoa in that moment.
No need? What could he possibly have been thinking?
“I see.”
Hearing what Riersha truly felt, Risideon found he had nothing to say.
The truth was that every time Riersha showed him affection, he struggled to receive it.
How was something like this even possible?
They were family, yes — but they had known each other for such a short time.
And yet.
Riersha gave him her love without condition.
She was more heartbroken about his leaving than anyone else.
For a brief moment, he wanted to set aside every obligation in the world and simply stay.
No. I can’t do that.
But he steadied himself at once.
The Arachrene family’s long-standing disorder could finally be set right. And in that process, Risideon would only be an obstacle.
If the day came when Pernoa moved against the collateral branches entangled with the imperial family, they would inevitably use Risideon against him.
“We’ll take our leave now, then.”
The maids, finished with both the dressing and the tidying, filed out of the room.
Risideon looked down at Riersha, whose face was heavy with the unmistakable weight of oncoming sleep.
“Haaahm.”
A small yawn escaped her at last.
Still, she shook her head vigorously, fighting to stay awake.
“You’d be better off going back to your room to sleep, Riersha.”
“…I’m not sleepy. I’m going to watch you leave.”
Riersha puffed out her round cheeks in refusal.
This is a problem.
Young children could be startlingly perceptive in unexpected ways.
Riersha seemed to have already sensed that they would not be going home together today.
“I’ll give you ten days.”
Ten days — what the Empress had allowed.
Today was the last of them.
Risideon watched Riersha doze, her head bobbing gently.
“Riersha, you’re going to fall asleep at the banquet at this rate.”
“But I can’t do that…”
“If you rest a little now, I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”
“…You promise?”
Riersha wavered.
Risideon suppressed a smile.
“Yes. I’ll wake you without fail.”
“Really?”
She asked again, and held out her pinky finger.
“Then promise me.”
“…”
“Hurry.”
Riersha pressed him.
Risideon looked at the small pinky finger extended toward him and went quiet.
The words wouldn’t come — not readily.
Because—
“You can’t be a picky eater anymore, you know. You’re the older one.”
“But it tastes awful…”
“Whose hand was it that made a promise with Mother just now, hmm?”
“…Mine.”
“A promise is something you must always keep, Risideon.”
“Hurry!”
The tug on his arm snapped him back.
At some point while he’d been lost in the old memory, Riersha had already hooked her pinky around his finger.
Such a small thing.
And yet Risideon could not move at all.
“…All right. I promise.”
⁂
The news that the young miss’s bed lay empty sent the Marcella ducal household into a brief flurry of alarm.
Risideon, made aware by the commotion that something had stirred outside, sent word that Riersha was in his room.
Completely oblivious to the fuss she had caused, Riersha lay curled on the sofa, breathing softly in her sleep.
“How long has she been sleeping here?”
“Just under an hour, my lord.”
“I see. And is that the whole of it?”
Pernoa studied Risideon.
“She has her own room, yet she came all the way here to sleep. That tells me there’s more to it than that.”
“She asked me to wake her.”
“And?”
The question — why didn’t you? — left Risideon without an answer.
The reason he had not woken her was simple.
Because he could not keep the promise.
Pernoa gathered Riersha into his arms without waking her, clicking his tongue softly.
“I was wrong about something.”
“What do you mean?”
He had turned to leave, Riersha held against his chest, when he paused and looked back.
In Risideon’s hand rested the sword the Crown Prince had bestowed upon him.
Pernoa’s eyes settled on it.
“If you cannot set that sword aside,” he said, “then let me help you, Risideon.”
