Astia stood in front of the portals of worlds. The portals glowed with a soft, mysterious light, each one like a door to another realm. One of them could take her directly to the capital of Heaven.

She paused for a moment. Doubt flickered in her eyes, but she took a deep breath and stepped into the portal. The intense light blinded her, and she had to close her eyes.

When she opened them again, the capital’s spectacle was undeniable: smooth white cobblestones, pearly walls, grand and shining buildings. Decorated carriages moved slowly along the streets, and nobles in lavish attire strolled between shops and luxurious restaurants.

Astia held her breath, taking in every corner. Even in her simple outfit, she looked charming, and the nobles stared at her in astonishment.

Her bright yellow dress, with long puffed sleeves, made her movements lively and playful. The skirt, with delicate folds, fell just above her knees, and the small leather bag on her shoulder, simple yet chic, moved with her quick steps. Her “bunny” hair, tied up with a cute headband, stayed perfectly in place, even against the morning breeze.

Astia was looking for a notebook; a journal-like book, but for a different purpose. She could record every observation and piece of information in it, while still enjoying the childlike sensation it gave her.

Walking the streets, her eyes caught the royal palace. Pearly and golden, with transparent towers and walls, it shone so brightly that Astia couldn’t look away.

She walked forward, aimless and unaware, as if an invisible force pulled her toward the palace. Suddenly, her steps halted; a loud noise echoed through the air.

A cart full of goods, coming from a corner, lost its balance and toppled with a terrifying crash, right in front of the Lumière Manor, home of the second duke of the empire.

Astia’s eyes widened, and her breath caught. People gathered from all sides, and Astia was almost crushed in the crowd. She stepped back and suddenly bumped into someone. It was a cloak-wearing boy her age. Both fell to the ground.

The boy rolled aside, letting his raven-black hair fall loose. His red eyes glimmered like jewels in the sunlight. But something else caught Astia’s attention: a red, diamond-shaped insignia lying on the cobblestone.

The boy reached out to pick it up, but the manor doors opened, and knights rushed out to help. Instantly, the boy gathered his cloak and stepped away from Astia. The insignia was left behind.

Astia shouted,

“Wait! You left this—”

But he was too fast to hear. Astia got up, grabbed the insignia, and immediately ran after him.

She darted through narrow alleys and streets, her eyes scanning for him. But the further she went, the more he vanished. The long shadows of the buildings and the sounds of people’s footsteps disoriented her. The sky, once bright, slowly turned cloudy, and a cold wind blew from the corners of the alleys.

Astia held her breath and looked around again, but there was no sign of the boy. Her heart raced, and she felt like she might lose her chance to find him any moment.

She couldn’t alert the knights. There were two reasons:

First, the boy had left the manor without permission; revealing him would cause trouble for Astia and punishment for him.

Second, no one had the right to handle royal insignia. The Garnira diamond belonged exclusively to the royal family, and this boy was an official member of that house.

So Astia had to stay hidden, move cautiously, and keep her eyes on all possible paths he might take. Every step had to be calculated, and every corner of the city could surprise her.

Rain began, and her clothes weren’t prepared for it. Astia stood under the eaves of a shop, hugging herself, sneezing.

“What should I do… where did he vanish?”

She scanned the wet streets and the hurried crowd, but the cloak-wearing boy was still gone. Suddenly, she spotted him, wearing a wide-brimmed hat, passing through an alley. He quickly turned a corner and disappeared.

Without hesitation, Astia chased after him, but something like a void or darkness enveloped her, pulling her into the same alley. She fell to the ground, scraping her knee.

When she lifted her head, the boy was standing right in front of her; his face cold and serious, with no hint of emotion.

Astia thought to herself, “Wh-what a beautiful face…”

But the moment he opened his mouth, her thoughts vanished. The intensity of his red eyes made everything feel serious and intimidating.

He spoke in a calm but threatening tone,

“You don’t know that you shouldn’t touch what’s not yours?”

His eyes seemed to pierce into the very core of Astia. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he held out his hand:

“Give it back.”

Astia held out the insignia, but when he tried to take it, his anger made him throw it forcefully. It struck his forehead, and his hat tilted back. For a moment, he froze, but then he regained composure and, with the same cold expression, picked up the insignia. The mark of the blow was still red and raised.

Astia said angrily,

“I really can’t believe it… you’re a noble, but you have no right to judge like that!”

The boy remained silent. Nothing could move him.

Astia held her breath and continued,

“Really?? Nothing to say?? I waited here all day! If I wanted money, I could have used it in other ways… Young master… you… how can you act like such a jerk?”

The heavy silence lingered. Astia’s knees ached, and her blood mixed with the rain. Her wet skirt clung to the ground.

The boy sighed but kept staring. His eyes suddenly fell on Astia’s bloodied knees. The color of her blood was real; bright red, not golden or black. Astia worried, “He must be wondering why my blood looks different… he mustn’t find out I’m half-demon… not yet foretold.”

A heavy silence hung between them. The boy took a few steps forward, but the rumbling of Astia’s stomach broke everything.

“Do you want something to eat?”

Astia tilted her head slightly,

“What do you mean?”

The boy put his hat back on and walked out of the alley. Astia hesitated but followed, curious.

---

They arrived at a warm restaurant, filled with the smell of food. The boy ordered coffee, and at Astia’s request, they brought chocolate cake. Astia’s eyes lit up as she looked at the cake, calming her slightly.

The boy warmed himself from the cold outside, keeping his eyes on Astia, watching how excitedly she enjoyed the cake.

After a brief silence, they both spoke at the same time, suddenly realizing the other was talking, and both stopped.

“I say, you—”

“You—”

The boy whispered slowly and seriously,

“No problem, you go first.”

Astia smiled and asked,

“What’s your name? I’m really curious…”

The boy paused for a moment, then said,

“Why do you want to know? Anyway, I’m a member of Lancaster Lumière, you figured that out from the insignia.”

Astia nodded and gave a nervous smile,

“I want to know if your name is as beautiful as your face…”

The boy first studied her, analyzing the situation, then said calmly,

“Aiden… my name is Aiden.”

Astia’s eyes widened, and she lifted her head. At that moment, she felt that the name, simple and short as it was, matched his face and personality.

At the same time, a sharp headache struck her. A voice echoed in her ears: “Aiden… Aiden… Aiden…”

Astia pressed her hands to her temples. Aiden reached out and asked,

“Are you okay?”

Astia regained herself, her eyes looking startled for a moment but quickly returning to normal. In a slightly trembling voice, she said,

“I’m fine… your name really suits you, it’s beautiful.”

Aiden’s eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by her words. A brief silence followed. He lowered his head and stared at his coffee cup, no longer listening to Astia, or so she thought.

“Aiden?”

“Aiden…?”

“Hey, Aiden!”

It was the fourth time Astia had called his name. Finally, the boy raised his head, his gaze piercing and more serious than ever.

“You really think that?”

Astia nodded nervously, confirming.

Aiden stayed silent. A heavy, terrifying silence, so oppressive that Astia felt it hard to breathe. He pressed his lips together, coughed lightly, and got up from the chair.

“Haha… well… thanks for the cake… now we’re even… young master.”

Aiden turned his head, lifted his coffee cup, took the last sip, and nodded calmly.

At that moment, he glanced at Astia from the corner of his eye. The girl unintentionally looked innocent and cute, as if silently pleading with her eyes for him to stay a little longer.

Aiden asked softly,

“Is something wrong?”

Astia’s thoughts were tangled, as if something was off: “Why do I want to talk to him more… why don’t I want this to end right here?”

For a few moments, she stared at his forehead; it was still red, the mark of the blow from the insignia she had thrown at him. Her cheeks flushed. She pointed to his forehead with her finger and said softly,

“About… that, I’m sorry too.”

Then she quickly lowered her head, as if she didn’t want him to see her reaction.

Aiden paused slightly, his gaze cold and steady. A moment later, as if understanding what Astia meant, he simply nodded.

A faint, real smile appeared on Astia’s lips, short but genuine. She slowly walked past him, her steps gradually moving away.

“Well… I hope we meet again later…”

Aiden didn’t respond. His gaze followed the girl as she exited the restaurant cutely and disappeared into the crowd. Then he calmly looked at the plate of cake, lost in thought.