In the capital’s slums, Lyrica Barnes was quite famous.

Whenever parents wanted to scold their children, they would always say, “Why can’t you be at least half as capable as Lyrica?”

Eight-year-old Lyrica was renowned for being remarkably dependable and hardworking.

If there was one burden in her life, it was her mother.

She had already lost count of how many times she had helped her drunken mother stagger home.

The thin wooden walls of their shack couldn’t block out any sound, so everyone could hear the drunken insults her mother hurled at her.

On particularly noisy nights, Lyrica would show up for work the next day with swollen, red eyes.

Even so, Lyrica was proud of her mother.

She had never seen anyone more beautiful than her, and in the entire slum, her mother was the only person who could read.

Lyrica always believed her mother had simply been worn down by hardship after once living as a noblewoman.

Her father had borrowed an enormous amount of money, claiming he was leaving by ship to conduct business, but he had never returned. Because of that, her mother had been cast out of the family estate.

Her mother often said that if it weren’t for Lyrica, she would have remarried somewhere long ago.

Lyrica agreed.

Hair as golden as the purest sunlight and eyes bluer than cornflowers hadn’t lost their brilliance, even in a place like the slums.

Her milky-white skin and delicate features made her stand out no matter where she was or what she wore.

One would think men would constantly approach her, but perhaps because she was too beautiful, no one dared.

Lyrica considered that fortunate.

Even if she charged at them with a broom, if a grown man struck her, she would undoubtedly be knocked unconscious.

Undernourished and small even for an eight-year-old, one slap from an adult man would probably send her flying into the dirt.

She knew because it had happened once.

When they had fallen behind on rent, she had been beaten.

It had taken a long time for her to regain consciousness.

The world had spun before her eyes, her ears had rung, and blood had filled her mouth with a metallic taste.

Everything had gone dark, and she remembered seeing stars.

That was why Lyrica always worried that terrible people might approach her beautiful mother.

Every night, she clasped her hands together and prayed to the brightest star in the sky.

“Please don’t let bad people come near Mother. Please keep her safe, always.”

Perhaps the stars had heard her prayer.

Thankfully, her mother wandered from tavern to tavern without getting into any serious trouble.

Today was a quiet day.

Her mother had drunk far more than usual and had passed out cold.

Lyrica tightly tied back her brown hair and headed out to work.

There weren’t many jobs slum children could do.

Still, Lyrica worked diligently.

She was meticulous, never stole food or touched other people’s belongings, and had earned an excellent reputation.

Ever since the shoeshine man had told her, “Work is built on trust,” she had tried never to forget those words.

Today she was cleaning the kitchen of a tavern.

She scrubbed sand and grease off the floor with a stiff brush, then rinsed it clean with water, repeating the process over and over.

Her arms trembled with exhaustion, and sweat dripped steadily from her face, but Lyrica continued scrubbing with both hands.

Whenever she did such simple work, she always found herself imagining two things.

The first was that her father would return.

In truth, he had only been away for a long business trip.

He would come back with a ship overflowing with gold and treasures, reunite with Lyrica and her mother, and they would all live happily ever after.

The second was Lyrica’s own secret dream.

One day, while she had been walking through the streets of the capital, a gentleman had taken pity on her and tossed her a silver coin.

When he told her to hold out her apron, she had done so in confusion, and the silver coin had rolled into it.

She had been utterly shocked.

“Buy yourself something delicious,” he had said.

But spend such a precious silver coin on food?

She could never do that.

She always carried that silver coin with her like a lucky charm.

Someday, she would buy two chickens with it.

Those chickens would hatch chicks, and she’d raise a whole flock.

Then she’d sell the chickens to buy goats.

Then cows.

Eventually, even horses.

She would become rich.

Those were the two dreams she always entertained.

Whenever she imagined them, she didn’t even notice how tiring the work was until it was finished.

After rinsing the floor one last time, Lyrica received a large copper coin as payment.

Five small copper coins equaled one large copper coin, and one large copper coin was enough to buy a loaf of bread.

Ten large copper coins became one white copper coin.

Lyrica saw white copper coins from time to time, but silver coins were incredibly rare.

She bought half a loaf of bread and headed home.

Carefully entering the house, she found her mother still asleep.

Good.

Quietly lifting the blanket, Lyrica pried up one of the floorboards beneath it.

Hidden underneath was her secret stash.

A pouch filled with silver and copper coins.

She gently stroked the silver coin several times, making sure it was still there before placing it back into the pouch.

Next month’s rent was hidden inside.

If her mother found it, she’d spend it on alcohol or something equally pointless.

That was why Lyrica secretly saved money little by little.

The pouch had become pleasantly heavy.

Even after paying the rent, there would still be money left.

The thought alone made her smile as she closed the floorboard and spread the blanket back over it.

Just then—

“AAAAAH!!”

Her mother suddenly screamed.

She thrashed wildly on the bed as though having a seizure.

Lyrica froze in shock.

“No! It’s burning! It wasn’t me! Aaaah!!”

Her mother rolled off the bed but continued flailing as if she didn’t even realize she’d fallen.

Only then did Lyrica rush over.

“Mother? Mother, are you alright? Are you sick?”

“Help me! Help…”

As soon as Lyrica grabbed her hand tightly, her mother’s body finally stopped convulsing.

Her trembling eyelids slowly opened.

She looked around in confusion, unable to focus on anything.

Fear gripped Lyrica’s heart.

She had heard stories about people whose minds had been ruined from drinking too much.

Could that have happened to her mother?

“W-Where… where is this? You… you’re… Lyrica?”

Her mother awkwardly pushed herself upright, and Lyrica helped her sit up.

Then she moved closer.

“Yes, Mother. It’s me, Lyrica.”

Her mother stared blankly at her.

Growing anxious, Lyrica met her gaze.

“Are you alright? This is our home. Yesterday, um…”

Her voice trailed off.

Whenever anyone mentioned that she’d drunk too much, her mother always got angry.

Lyrica didn’t know how to say it.

“I think… you must have had a bad dream.”

“Lily… you’ve become younger.”

“…What?”

Lyrica blinked in confusion.

I’m only eight years old. If I look younger than this… how old do I look?

As she looked around awkwardly, her mother swallowed hard.

“Lily… you’re alive?”

“Huh? Yes! Of course I am.”

Did she dream that I died?

Lyrica patted her chest firmly.

Her mother continued staring at her in disbelief.

“You’re alive. You’re alive… Not younger… Oh my God. Lyrica… how old are you?”

“I’m eight.”

“That’s impossible… What is this?”

Suddenly, her mother leaped to her feet and began pacing frantically around the tiny house.

“My God… it’s the slums… This can’t be real… This…”

She looked out the window, then around the room.

Finding a tiny shard of mirror, she picked it up and stared at her reflection.

Then she gasped.

“…I’m back.”

“Mother?”

Lyrica was beginning to grow frightened.

Her mother truly seemed to have lost her mind.

What should I do?

This was a place where they couldn’t even afford medicine, much less a doctor.

She might have to spend her precious silver coin to call one.

Just as Lyrica steeled herself and stood—

“My God! I’m back! This can’t be happening! How could this happen?!”

Her mother’s sudden shout made Lyrica flinch.

She knew better than to approach someone so agitated.

Even at the tavern, people who screamed like that while drunk were best avoided.

So she quietly watched, waiting for her mother to calm down.

Her mother touched her own arms and legs, ran her fingers through her hair, cupped her own face, and repeated over and over,

“I’m back… I’m back…”

Then she suddenly turned toward Lyrica.

Lyrica shrank back.

Her mother rushed over and reached out.

She’s going to hit me.

Lyrica squeezed her eyes shut.

Instead, soft hands gently cupped her cheeks.

Slowly opening her eyes, she found her mother’s brilliant blue eyes only inches away.

They were filled with tears.

“Lyrica… you’re alive. My precious Lyrica. I’m sorry. Everything was my fault. I was so foolish… I was so incredibly stupid…”

Lyrica blinked in astonishment.

Her mother suddenly pulled her into a fierce embrace.

Sobbing, she whispered over and over,

“My treasure… my precious baby… my Lyrica… I love you.”

Warmth spread through Lyrica’s body, melting away every ounce of tension.

Her mother’s words seeped gently into her heart.

Without realizing it, tears streamed down her own face.

She cried.

She didn’t know what kind of dream her mother had seen.

Perhaps she herself was dreaming.

But her mother’s embrace was so warm.

So… this is what it feels like to be held.

Lyrica understood that feeling for the very first time.

Her mother stroked her hair and kissed her tear-stained cheeks.

Only after a long while did she finally calm down.

With a deep sigh, she hugged Lyrica one last time before letting her go.

Everything felt sudden, wonderful…

…and frightening.

What if her mother suddenly changed back?

“Lily, what year, month, and day is it today?”

“Today is the fifteenth day of Sprout Month—April—in the year 485.”

After thinking for a moment, her mother snapped her fingers.

“The Imperial Palace Ball!”

The sudden outburst startled Lyrica, but she nodded.

Everyone in the capital knew about the Spring Ball.

Whenever it was held, the entire city came alive, and even the slums seemed to catch some of that excitement.

Nobles from across the empire would gather in the capital to attend the magnificent ball held at the Imperial Palace.

This year, even the Emperor himself would attend.

People said he was terrifying.

Parents frightened misbehaving children by saying,

“If you keep acting like that, we’ll send you to His Majesty the Emperor!”

There were stories that he ate children’s hearts.

Others claimed he froze to death anyone who displeased him.

Whether those stories were true or not, everyone believed the imperial family possessed extraordinary powers.

They could command water, freeze anything they wished, and move objects without even touching them.

They also possessed countless magical artifacts.

Some even said the Emperor had slaughtered countless people with those powers to seize the throne.

Others claimed he had personally killed the previous Emperor.

The current Crown Prince was said to be the former Emperor’s son.

Technically, the current Emperor was only supposed to reign until the Crown Prince came of age.

But no one believed he would willingly give up the throne.

In short, nearly every rumor painted the current Emperor as strange and terrifying.

So when her mother suddenly mentioned the Imperial Palace Ball, Lyrica blinked in confusion.

Her mother grabbed her shoulders firmly.

“Lily, Mother absolutely has to attend that ball.”

“…”

The idea was so absurd that Lyrica couldn’t even respond.

Her mother’s blue eyes flashed with determination.

“No matter what, I have to attend that ball and meet His Majesty. This is my only chance. If I prepare today, I can enter tomorrow…”

“That’s impossible.”

For a moment, despair washed over Lyrica.

She had thought her mother had truly changed.

She had been wrong for believing it, even for a moment.

The Imperial Palace Ball?

Meeting the Emperor?

It was so ridiculous that she was speechless.

Even an eight-year-old knew it was impossible.

“How could we ever get into the Imperial Palace Ball?”

“There is a way. Of course, not dressed like this. We’ll have to borrow suitable clothes from a pawnshop. Once we do that, Mother can handle the rest. So, Lily…”

Already guessing what was coming next, Lyrica’s lips trembled.

“W-We don’t have any money, Mother…”

“Lily, please. Just this once. Trust Mother this one time. Please?”

Lyrica shook her head.

The rent was due.

She didn’t want to be beaten again.

And what if her mother were arrested by the palace guards?

No—

She certainly would be.

Her mother coaxed and pleaded, but Lyrica stubbornly kept her mouth shut.

One should never underestimate the determination of a girl raised in the slums.

Finally, her mother sighed and raised both hands in surrender.

“Alright, Lily. If that’s what you want, I won’t force you.”

Lyrica lifted her chin.

Her mother didn’t seem angry.

After a moment’s thought, she gripped Lyrica’s shoulders once more.

“Lily, I want you to know one thing. Mother will do everything she can for you. I know you’re the kind of child who can find happiness even without wealth. This is Mother’s selfish wish. But in my own way, I’ll do my very best for your sake. Do you understand?”

Lyrica nodded.

Smiling, her mother embraced her.

“Then let’s go to bed early tonight.”

At those words, Lyrica quickly took out the half loaf of bread.

“I’ve already eaten. It’s alright.”

Her mother looked at the bread for a moment before saying,

“Even so… let’s share it.”

The hard bread took considerable effort to break in half.

After sharing it, Lyrica climbed into her mother’s narrow bed.

She was so happy that night she didn’t even dream about her treasured silver coin.

She slept deeply.

When she woke the next morning, her mother was gone.

Instead, she saw the blanket thrown aside…

…and the floorboard standing open.

The pouch was gone.

The silver coin.

The copper coins.

Everything.

Lyrica stood frozen before collapsing onto the floor.

Her legs had lost all strength.

She didn’t even think about chasing after her mother.

“H-Hic…”

Before she knew it, she had burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs.

For the first time in her life…

Lyrica hated her mother.

And she cried.

She cried and cried.