“Your daughter is quite the wonder,” the Queen said dryly, a faint, wry smirk gracing her lips as she gazed out the window.

Marquis Fornweir offered a slight bow. He found her tone distasteful, yet he understood precisely what the Queen was driving at. Adelissa had become the closest person in the world to Prince Ashheim. Even now, the two were playing carefree in the garden below. Against the backdrop of their genuine devotion, news of their impending betrothal had surprised no one. The entire nobility knew that Adelissa Fornweir had long since secured a permanent place in the young second prince’s heart.

“Thank you for the praise, Your Majesty. My daughter inherited her disposition from her late mother.”

Queen Clementine scoffed coldly.

“What a pity the girl was left motherless. I could take her under my guardianship - raise her at court, closer to dear Ashheim...” Her face twitched with momentary disgust at the mere mention of the second prince. “I hear the boy has convinced himself he will become a knight for her sake. How... precious. The little bastard trains with a sword from dawn until dusk, caught up with the Crown Prince, and now fights him on equal footing. He even dares to claim he wishes to enter a knighthood and renounce his title. Who in their right mind would buy such a lie?”

Valtorius noticed the Queen’s fingers gripping her fan so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“I shall personally secure a place for him within the Knights of Fornweir, Your Majesty,” the marquis hastened to reassure her. “You need not concern yourself with the prince’s future.”

In the sun-drenched garden beneath the castle windows, a world apart bloomed.

“Since I am two years younger than you,” Adelissa said with a slight blush and a genuine smile, “by my sixteenth birthday, you will have finished your training and been knighted, right?”

Ashheim nodded silently, his eyes fixed on the lush wreath of wildflowers they had just gathered together.

“Then on the day you take your oath, may I tie a flower wreath with ribbons onto the hilt of your sword?” Adelissa asked, hiding her flushing cheeks. “You know... as is custom. I promise I’ll learn how to weave proper wreaths by then. Really and truly!”

Ashheim smiled and leaned forward.

“I hope your wreath doesn’t fall apart the moment we start, making me blush in front of the other knights,” he said, lightly tapping the tip of her nose with his index finger.

“Hey!” Adelissa began to protest in mock indignation, but the prince gently placed the flower crown atop her snow-white hair.

“I promise I’ll learn to weave them perfectly before the year is out!”

Ashheim sighed thoughtfully, resting his chin on his hand.

“Then... I suppose I had better become a knight as soon as possible, just to watch you struggle with the weaving.” He let out a warm, genuine laugh.

The girl puffed out her cheeks, glaring at him with playful malice.

“I’ll hold this against you when we’re married! I promise!”

“Shall we seal the promise?” Ashheim extended his pinky with a smile that instantly melted away all of Adelissa’s annoyance.

She entwined her pinky with his, sealing their unspoken vow.

Queen Clementine was in a desperate hurry. Casting aside all royal etiquette, she bolted down the long corridors toward her son’s quarters.

“The Crown Prince decided to engage in a horseback sparring match with Prince Ashheim,” the maid’s panicked words echoed relentlessly in her mind.

Clementine clenched her fists, hoisting the heavy hem of her brocade gown to keep from tripping. Her heart hammered in her throat, heavy with dread.

When the guards threw open the heavy doors to the chamber, the first figures she saw were the royal physicians and King Odelon himself. The Sovereign sat at the head of the bed where Prince Gabriel lay motionless.

Standing slightly off in the shadows was Ashheim. His head hung in guilt, his trembling hands and sleeves stained with fresh blood.

Losing all semblance of control, the Queen swooped down upon the second prince like a hawk.

“YOU! This is all your doing!” she shrieked, raising her hand to strike the boy.

“Clementine!” the King called out sharply, catching her wrist in midair. Steel and profound grief rang in his voice. “Leave Ashheim alone! Gabriel has only himself to blame... He lost control of a frightened horse and fell onto his own sword.”

Clementine froze, turning a stunned, venomous glare from her husband to the pale, terrified Ashheim.

“You defend that whore’s bastard even now?!” she hissed, practically spitting poison. “If that arrogant mongrel hadn’t dared humiliate Gabriel with his ‘achievements,’ my son wouldn’t have felt driven to prove himself!”

Unable to endure any more, the King struck her across the face. The sharp crack echoed through the silent chamber, making every servant wince.

“Silence!” Odelon roared destructively. “Gabriel will live. And when he awakens, he shall be severely punished for such reckless disregard for his own life. He is the future king, after all!”

The Sovereign turned and measured his second son with a cold, distant gaze.

“Your wedding with Adelissa will take place as scheduled. And immediately following the ceremony, you two will leave the capital. I will no longer have you lingering before my eyes.”

Ashheim clenched his fists, feeling his fingernails dig into his blood-soaked palms, and bowed his head in submission.

“As you command, Your Majesty...”

Ashheim walked out of the Crown Prince’s quarters, unwilling to endure any more of Clementine’s venom and deceitful tears. He wandered aimlessly down the ringing, silent corridor of the castle, feeling like an utter stranger in his own home.

Suddenly, his stride was cut short as slender arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling tightly against his waist.

“A bold move for an unwed lady,” Ashheim murmured with a faint chuckle, though there was no real severity in his voice.

“I couldn’t get your attention by calling out,” Adelissa’s voice was muffled as she pressed her face into his back. “So I decided to bring you back to earth this way.”

She stepped around the prince and gently took his blood-stained, trembling hands into her own. Her bright blue eyes met his without fear or judgment - only infinite warmth.

“Come. You need to wash up.”

Ashheim followed her meekly. In that moment, in the vast and hostile world, he needed nothing else. It was enough that Adelissa held his hand firmly in hers. The prince offered a sad smile and squeezed her hand tighter.