— “I’d rather not, thank you,” — Margaret said softly.
Then, without warning, she turned and bolted.

But before she could take two steps, Emilia caught her by the collar.

— “Oh no, you don’t! You’re not getting away from me that easily! Come on!”

When the tea party began, the three of them sat around a small round table placed in the middle of the sunlit garden.
Margaret sipped her tea quietly, stealing glances at the Crown Prince seated opposite her.

Meanwhile, Emilia… was in the middle of an intense battle with her favorite raspberry tart.
Crumbs clung to her cheeks as she mumbled with her mouth half full:

— “Ugh, I’m bored... Kione, let’s do something fun!”

Kione chuckled, his tone teasing.

— “How about chess? Oh wait— you’re terrible at it. I’d win in five moves.”

Emilia slammed her fork down dramatically.

— “Who says I’m terrible? If you win, I’ll give you my chocolate cake!”

— “Tempting,” — Kione grinned. — “All right. But if you lose, no pouting and chasing me around with a sword like last time.”

Emilia glared, eyes sparking with fire.

— “Fine! But if you laugh when I lose, I’m done playing with you forever!”

One hour later…

— “Aaaahhh! I lost again!! Margaret, help me!!” — Emilia cried, collapsing backward into her chair, clutching her head in despair.

Kione burst out laughing, his expression smug.

— “Ha! Did you really think you could beat me? I’ve been training since I was five. You skip lessons every other day!”

Emilia squinted at him, sulking, while Kione continued to gloat.
Neither of them noticed that Margaret had been silently watching the chessboard the entire time.

Then, she spoke up:

— “Your Highness… would you allow me to play a match?”

Kione turned, raising an eyebrow, as if she’d just said something absurd.

— “Sure. But your sister couldn’t beat me — what makes you think you can?
Tell you what: if you win, I won’t tease Emilia for a whole week.”

— “Excuse me?!” — Emilia snapped. — “Don’t drag me into your stupid bets!”

Kione smirked.

— “I’m just being generous, my lady. Now then, you go first.”

One hour later…

Margaret gently moved her final piece across the board and said calmly:

— “Checkmate, Your Highness.”

Kione froze, staring at the board in disbelief.

— “Hmph… maybe this time, but next time will be different.”

— “I’ll hold you to that,” — Margaret replied evenly. — “But for now… you still lost.”

The afternoon sunlight slanted through the trees, glimmering on her pale silver hair — making her look almost ethereal.

Kione looked at her, a strange flicker of irritation — or was it admiration? — crossing his face.

But before he could think further—

Smack!

A fist came down on his head.

— “Don’t you dare look at my little sister like that!” — Emilia roared, her eyes practically glowing with rage.

Kione winced, rubbing his head as he stumbled back.

— “I was just playing chess!”

Oh no… not again, he thought, dread creeping in. She’s totally going to kill me this time.

Just then, the butler appeared, bowing deeply.

— “Your Highness, it is time to return to the palace.”

A perfect escape.

Kione exhaled in relief, darting toward the carriage as fast as dignity allowed.

Margaret stepped forward, bowed slightly, and said with gentle courtesy:

— “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

The wind swept through the garden, lifting strands of her silver hair as the setting sun painted everything gold.

Watching from the carriage window, Kione found himself thinking:

Who is this girl…? To defeat me so easily — yet remain so calm…
She’s strange. But… she’s brilliant.