“Done!”
Sonnet let out a triumphant cheer, having finished the manuscript through the night.
She had completed it ahead of the deadline Riersha had given her.
“Even if the manuscript doesn’t suit our needs, we’ll still pay you.”
That was what Oberon had said when he showed her to her room.
A smooth smile spread across Sonnet’s lips.
“I really do like the way this household operates.”
Wealthy people were just different. They didn’t fuss over small sums — they were generous and straightforward.
And to top it all off, she’d been able to work in complete comfort without suffering through the height of summer’s heat!
Sonnet gathered up her manuscript and stepped lightly out of the room.
⁂
“You’ve come a day early, haven’t you?”
“Yes. I’m a writer who keeps her deadlines very well.”
Sonnet smiled brightly and made her best effort to present herself favorably before her young employer.
It had only been a matter of days, yet under the Arachrene household’s care, Sonnet already looked as though she’d filled out a little.
Riersha looked over the thick manuscript placed before her.
“Good. Go to your room and rest.”
“Yes, Miss Riersha.”
“Oberon. The payment.”
At Riersha’s word, Oberon immediately produced a coin purse and handed it to Sonnet.
Sonnet’s eyes sparkled as she swiftly pocketed the purse, then hesitated before opening her mouth.
“Um, well — Miss Riersha… there’s one thing I’d like to ask.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“If you find my writing to your liking, would I be able to meet the Kadimo Troupe in person?”
Riersha didn’t answer right away.
The truth was, she couldn’t say for certain whether the Kadimo Troupe would even accept this manuscript.
“I’ll introduce you eventually.”
“Yes. Thank you so much!”
That noncommittal answer seemed to be more than enough for Sonnet, who bowed repeatedly before slipping out of the room.
Riersha rested her chin in both hands and sank into thought.
Before handing this manuscript over to the Kadimo Troupe, first…
I should let Isierd know, shouldn’t I?
It was his story, after all. It didn’t seem right for him to be the last to know.
There was always the chance that Isierd might not want it shared.
“Sona.”
“Yes, Miss Riersha.”
“I need to go see Isierd.”
Riersha tucked the manuscript under her arm and walked out of the room.
⁂
The rear courtyard of Isierd’s castle.
Clang. Clang. Clang!
The sound of steel meeting steel rang through the air.
Isierd gripped the sword he had nearly dropped, clenching his teeth.
“Your stance is wrong. Look for openings in your opponent.”
“Hah… hah…”
“You shouldn’t be this exhausted yet.”
Risideon said it coldly.
But inwardly, he was deeply impressed.
He had been deliberately withholding praise so that Isierd wouldn’t grow complacent — yet even so…
Can he really share the same bloodline as the Crown Prince?
Isierd’s talent far surpassed that of Crown Prince Adrian.
Whatever was demonstrated to him once, he mastered immediately — and never forgot.
He was absorbing everything the Arachrene household’s instruction had to offer, like some kind of monster.
A monster, perhaps.
Isierd seemed like someone who had been born to become Emperor.
…No. Perhaps it was simply the difference between someone desperate and someone who was not.
Isierd truly had nowhere left to retreat to.
“Pick up your sword again. We continue until my right foot moves. That’s today’s condition.”
Suddenly, Isierd’s pale blue eyes flashed.
He had only just now realized that Risideon’s right foot hadn’t moved once this entire time.
Isierd raised his sword again and thrust forward with depth and precision.
Risideon deflected the attack with practiced ease, turning over what he knew of Isierd in his mind.
A boy the same age as the Crown Prince — one who might, in truth, be the actual First Prince.
And…
An irritating child.
That thing is really getting on my nerves.
Risideon kept his expression neutral as he eyed the rabbit-shaped pendant hanging from Isierd’s wrist.
Early in their sword lessons, he had aimed for that pendant several times — and now Isierd had wound it in multiple layers around his wrist, making it far harder to reach.
Now.
The moment an opening appeared, Risideon’s eyes sharpened. He extended his arm in a straight line toward Isierd’s left wrist.
Sensing the intent, Isierd stepped back quickly and twisted to the side.
“Don’t touch it.”
It was the first time Isierd had spoken.
The boy was shielding his wrist protectively, glaring at Risideon.
“And you just moved.”
“Hm?”
Risideon lowered his gaze slowly.
The foot that had been planted firmly on the ground had shifted — the soil beneath it had been scuffed ever so slightly.
His right foot had moved. Just barely, but it had moved.
Left with no alternative, Risideon sheathed his sword.
“…That will be enough for today’s lesson.”
There would be other chances to cut that pendant free.
He turned to leave, and that was when he heard it.
“…Riersha?”
Riersha was walking toward them with Sona, carrying some kind of envelope clutched carefully to her chest.
Don’t tell me she came to see the prince.
Risideon’s expression darkened.
He glanced sideways — Isierd had also spotted Riersha, and had gone completely still, staring.
“Oh!”
Riersha caught sight of the two of them from a distance and waved cheerfully in recognition.
“Risideon Oppa!”
She came running over in quick, skipping steps.
Sona followed anxiously behind.
“Miss, what if you trip!”
“It’s fine. Sona will catch me.”
“Oh — Miss.”
Sona pressed a hand to her mouth, visibly moved by Riersha’s boundless faith in her.
As Riersha drew near, Risideon bent slightly and asked.
“How did you get in here?”
“Mm. I asked Papa and he said I could come.”
“…Father actually gave you permission?”
“Yep!”
That seemed unlikely.
Risideon looked to Sona to confirm whether that was actually true.
Sona smiled awkwardly and elaborated.
“He said it would be fine as long as we weren’t caught by the knights guarding the castle.”
Ah. Of course.
I’ll need to replace them with more capable knights.
The reason they hadn’t been detected all this time was simply because the stationed knights were no match for Sona. Swap them out for more skilled ones, and at the very least, they’d be able to sense Sona’s presence.
Risideon smiled pleasantly and looked at Riersha.
“So what brings you all the way here, Riersha?”
“I came to see Isierd.”
“Hm?”
“To see Isierd.”
“Who?”
“Isierd!”
The corners of Risideon’s smiling mouth gave the faintest tremor.
He had a sudden urge to march straight to Pernoa and demand to know whether he was aware of this situation.
It was then that he sensed something off.
Risideon’s red eyes cut to Isierd.
Sacred power…?
The divine grace said to be bestowed upon members of the imperial family at birth.
And within it — sacred power.
Risideon frowned.
Don’t tell me his sacred power just reacted because Riersha said she came to see him.
Whether it was magic or sacred power, it responded to its master’s emotions.
The moment he heard Riersha’s words, his sacred power had stirred. The whole thing left Risideon deeply unsettled.
“Riersha, even if Father gave you permission, you can’t interrupt during lessons.”
“They’re over.”
“…”
“The lesson’s over.”
Risideon had moved to naturally escort Riersha back — but that was when Isierd, who rarely said a single word under normal circumstances, spoke two complete sentences in a row.
Riersha blinked, her eyes going wide.
“The lesson’s over?”
“Yes.”
“Then I have something to tell you — let’s go inside together.”
“Alright.”
Riersha and Isierd fell into step together, heading toward the castle.
Just before they passed through the entrance, Riersha turned around.
“Risideon Oppa!”
“…Yes. Yes, Riersha.”
Risideon had been quietly reeling from the realization that the two of them were far closer than he’d imagined. His focus returned to him a beat too late.
He answered a half-second slow, and Riersha tilted her head at him curiously before beaming.
“Goodbye, then!”
Thud.
Watching Riersha wave side by side with Isierd, Risideon felt his heart drop somewhere into his stomach.
“Please take care on your way home, Young Master Risideon.”
Sona, who had been quietly observing the whole affair, pressed her hands together in a polite farewell.
Before she could leave, Risideon asked urgently.
“Since when.”
“Pardon?”
“Since when have those two been that close?”
“Ah…”
Sona’s eyes drifted in a small circle before she smiled sweetly.
“Today is only the third time the two of them have met.”
“Three times?”
“Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Sona disappeared with slightly quickened steps.
Risideon stood there in a daze.
He remained rooted to the spot until his personal knight, Seymour, appeared to retrieve him from the rear courtyard — where he had been left quite alone.
“Shall we head back now, Young Master?”
