Florencia Vestein trudged into her private bedchambers sometime in the evening. Despite her tidying up as much as she could everyday, there was still a layer of dust visibly apparent on some surfaces and floating in the air where the light directly shone. There was only so much she, a pampered noble lady, could do when she refused to let her maids enter for days at a time. Since it was a recent thing, her parents and Ellowyn had yet to be aware of her sudden unusual behavior. As far as she knew, anyways. She exhaled heavily.

On her bed were the unkempt bed sheets covered in a handful of letters. All of them still had intact wax seals that were carefully pried open, as she often did with those sent by this particular person. She plopped down on an empty spot and grabbed the nearest opened letter.

Dear Florencia Vestein,

I have not received any response for you these past few months. It concerns me, even though I am notified that you have surely received them. All I want is your consent as I still respect you greatly as the daughter of Duke Vestein. Therefore, I have not yet addressed this situation with neither him nor my own father.

Please, I beg you. Let us break off this engagement.

From Yours Sincerely,

Calypse Mir Ervict.

This was one of the shorter ones. She clutched the letter to her chest, yet all she felt was emptiness. At first, she had secretly cried herself until she fainted the first week or so. Now, her eyes were as dry as the sand dunes she’d read of famed adventurers traversing. “You nearly scared me, Calypse,” she murmured as she stared at nothing at all, laying on her side. “I thought you had finally sent an official request to my father, but you haven’t.”

It meant he still wanted to show her that respect he so sincerely wrote about.

It meant there was still time for him to change his mind about the engagement.

The next day, she woke up and greeted the maids happily. The letters were nowhere to be found, and nothing was visibly amiss about her after that.

…

Hyasar Mir Ervict, the first prince of the Karagon Empire–and Prince Calypse’s elder brother. Although both were raised by the late empress with equal care, it was an open secret amongst the aristocratic world’s higher echelons that Calypse was the result of one of the Emperor’s past affairs.

Although they didn’t show it much in public, they never truly treated each other as brothers. They treated each other as no more than strangers who happened to live together in the capital palace, only conversing politely when dining with the emperor or in similar situations. Never friendly, though. It wasn’t like there wasn’t any proof that the attempted assassinations throughout Calypse’s childhood were conducted by him, or at least none were ever found. And it wasn’t like they did not spew words of vitriol when they were sure neither of them were being heard behind closed doors, either. Even each princes’ aides and servants that resided in their respective palace’s wings held great tension between them. All of that was very well kept from the emperor and the public's eye, however. It was only when Hyasar, after committing a great transgression against the duchy of the Mir Roysas and denounced from his past title of Crown Prince by the emperor himself a year ago, that he began to outwardly reveal his true contempt as tabloids begun spreading news about his ill behavior in too large quantities to simply ignore. As if he thought he finally had nothing to lose and decided to drop all decorum.

In short, the late empress’ efforts were all in vain.

“Calypse, my dear brother!” Hyasar stood beneath the balcony of the younger prince’s room, jeering, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“...” Calypse crouched in the corner of his bedchamber, holding his head in between his hands. He had no idea how Hyasar knew for sure that he was still in his room. All he could do was remain in the same place as he listened to the ruckus, frozen.

“If anyone is in there, let my brother know that I’ve killed another one of his hawks!” yelled Hyasar again. “Calypse, you can enchant as many birds as you want, it’s fine. I’ll just kill them all!”

He shivered at the thought of his brother saying that while holding out a hawk’s corpse by its legs like a prized trophy. It was the same reason why he’d long abandoned the notion of naming any of them while training them in his palace wings.

‘I’m tired…’ he thought fervently. If this had happened a year ago, he would have screamed right back at his elder brother to leave him and his servants alone. Perhaps he would have even shot with a crossbow his way. He had always been more skilled at it. Yet now he was simply laden with exhaustion and wanted nothing but the rest of the day to be peaceful.

But what did a prince like him know about peace?

The knocks on his doors nearly made him jump out of his skin. “Your Highness?” A woman’s muffled voice called out to him from the other side. He relaxed instantly. “Your Highness, I’ve brought passionflower tea. May I come in?”

It was his maid, Meredith. She had applied to be a palace maid despite being the daughter of a noble family from the East Province. From the moment Calypse had laid eyes on her all those months ago, he saw in her a familiarity that sowed dread but also intrigue in his heart. His brother hounding his wings of the palace had made him dismiss all his servants and most trusted aide for the day, as he wanted to create the illusion of a quiet area with no one around. It was Meredith only who went against his orders and sought him out merely to give him some tea. He wanted to laugh.

Making sure to skirt as far away from the balcony as possible, he moved to his doors and opened them. What welcomed him was the sight of a girl dressed in a maid’s black and white uniform, her copper brown hair slicked back into a neat bun.

“Why?” He asked quietly and slowly. “Why bother with this?”

The corner of her mouth curved up gently. Meredith didn’t answer and only asked, “Your Highness, besides my speaking, what else do you hear?” She pressed a finger to her lips, her other hand still skillfully balancing the tray with a single ornate teacup and kettle.

He went along with it, allowing himself a few seconds to listen to his surroundings. “Nothing,” he answered.

“Exactly. His Highness, Prince Hyasar, has already left your premises. You can be at ease now.”

“...”

For what seemed like ages, Calypse could only blink and stare at his peculiar maid as she walked past him to set the tray down on his coffee table. He had already observed her from head to toe a hundred–no, a thousand times, yet he was never sure about his thoughts until now.

“Meredith.”

“Yes, Your Highness?” Her smile was still there when she turned back to him.

“You’re the one who actually saved me back in Whydstell all those years ago, weren’t you?”

His heart sank as that smile disappeared as quickly as a breeze.