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Chapter 16
Even from a distance, it was obvious that her pretty face had frozen in flustered confusion.
So was the fact that her faintly twitching gaze was sweeping messily over him and the cigarette.
Alexis bit back a thin smile.
Oh dear.
With the little sister who had always been nothing but a child gone, she must be savoring the feeling of her world collapsing.
Her confused expression was so endearing that a mischievous thought even crossed his mind—perhaps he should play the role of the younger brother just a little longer.
At his wordless invitation to come up, she moved her feet without a sound.
Even in slippers, her steps remained light.
The collarbone visible through the opening of her shawl, the slender calves wrapped in a thin skirt.
Long, winding hair damp with the night mist.
Alexis exhaled a short stream of smoke and looked away.
Especially while smoking a mild cigarette, the scene was dizzyingly provocative.
It seemed that while he had turned his gaze aside, the woman had quickened her steps.
Before he knew it, she had climbed up to the pavilion and was wandering about three steps away from him.
Three steps.
Not far, one could say—but certainly not a distance that could be called intimate.
At the same time, it was a distance that could easily be narrowed with a single step forward.
Alexis eyed her slender wrist, gauging the space between them.
Would Cecilia step forward first, or would he reach out and pull her in?
The result was obvious. The distance would close.
The only question was whether it would be by his will or hers.
What will it be, I wonder.
Just as a faint smile touched his lips, Cecilia suddenly stepped forward.
“Alex.”
“Yes.”
She closed her mouth for a moment, as if searching for words, and Alexis, lounging at an angle, examined her from head to toe.
Perhaps weighed down by the fatigue of the day, her beauty now carried a bewitching edge.
The golden light in her large eyes was no longer simply gentle, but a curious blend of warmth and chill.
And vividly, piercingly clear.
Before he could sink too deeply into that golden hue, Alexis slowly drew on his cigarette.
Even as all his senses blurred, she alone remained sharp.
Her gaze—deep, profound—held him entirely.
So you’ve regained your composure again. Burying the awkwardness.
That calmness was close to arrogance, though not quite the same… just slightly different.
In any case, Alexis found himself very fond of her arrogance as he leaned back.
He had no intention of distorting her serene composure on their very first day.
“Older sister?”
“Ah—sorry. What brought you to the garden?”
“Well, I…”
Alexis flicked the cigarette lightly between his fingers, and Cecilia nodded slowly.
“And you?”
“Home—no, I mean, I came to look for a puppy who ran out of the room.”
“……”
“Will you help me?”
Instead of answering, he gave a light whistle.
He had heard four paws pattering on the ground before climbing up to the pavilion—Alisha was surely in the garden.
As expected.
The white puppy responded almost immediately, barking brightly as it came running.
Still perched where he was, Alexis turned only his head to watch the white bundle of fur tear through the night toward them.
“My goodness! When I look for her, she never shows her face—but the moment you appear!”
“…You dressed her too?”
“No, that part—Alisha!”
Cecilia’s shocked cry.
Alexis, who had been watching her out of the corner of his eye, turned his gaze a moment too late.
The puppy, having recognized her owner, seemed determined to cause trouble.
Tail wagging furiously, she sprinted forward—then promptly leapt straight into the pond.
Panting as she paddled over, the puppy tried and failed to jump up onto the pavilion, then slumped dejectedly.
Her drooping ears and stiffened tail looked almost pitiful.
Is that thing really supposed to be clever?
Alexis stared incredulously before resorting to magic to rescue the poor pet—
if only to stop the incessant barking.
After stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, he lifted the puppy out, dried her neatly, and handed her back to her owner.
Cecilia wrapped her arms around the whining Alisha.
The ungrateful pet began tapping her front paws rapidly against her owner’s slippers.
Judging by that perfect rhythm, she was clever after all.
“I told you to behave.”
“Woof!”
“Why won’t you listen at all?!”
Must have been spoiled rotten for seven years.
Alexis swallowed the snide remark and watched the white puppy’s tail sway.
The Samoyed, who had been wagging it wildly, suddenly hopped over the railing—why, seriously why?!—and jumped back into the pond.
I just dried you! Why would you jump in again!
As he rubbed his forehead in disbelief, the puppy began splashing around noisily below.
Barking merrily, utterly demolishing the surface of the water.
Cecilia leaned her elbows on the railing, resting her chin in her hands, and muttered,
“Alisha, you really are just like him.”
“That’s a bit harsh.”
“You jumped into the Habel River without thinking once, didn’t you?”
…Ah. During his debutante days.
Even so, shouldn’t those two be treated differently?
Alexis sighed and looked down toward the pond. Alisha finished her leisurely swim, climbed out, and shook herself vigorously.
Then she barked twice, as if urging them to hurry.
Unable to resist the pet’s insistence, Cecilia slowly rose to her feet.
When she asked for an escort, the hand pulling her shawl closed settled gently into his palm.
Like a golden butterfly alighting on a flower’s stamen—light beyond measure.
Alexis helped her down the steps, matching her stride.
Alisha ran ahead, spun in circles, then dashed back toward them, full of restless energy.
“Alex.”
“Yes.”
“What happened with Ribe?”
“I was judged stable for now, but I’ll need to visit again for more thorough examinations.”
“I see.”
Cecilia replied briefly, then bent to pet Alisha as the puppy ran right up to her.
“Did you meet Blanche, by any chance?”
“No.”
“……”
“Shall you come with me next time, Sister?”
“Huh? Where to? …To Ribe?”
When Alexis nodded, Cecilia’s eyes widened, and she pointed at herself.
Her red lips formed a small, soundless me?
He nodded again firmly, as if to confirm it.
“You seem to miss Lady Blanche of the House of Houston quite a bit.”
“Well… I do miss her, but… I saw her just two weeks ago?”
Alexis simply looked at her. Cecilia rolled her eyes this way and that, then answered readily,
“Alright, let’s go together. I’ve never been to Ribe anyway—it’ll be a good opportunity.”
“Excellent.”
As the woman smiled languidly, the man tilted his head slightly.
Their gazes tangled.
Each reflected in the other’s eyes, urging them to grow accustomed to how the other had changed.
One gaze was tranquil; the other was strangely lacking in heat.
One was skilled at hiding; the other was hiding with deliberate intent.
The woman stepped back.
As the distance widened again, the man stepped forward—
until his shadow fell over her, until the garden disappeared entirely from her view.
When the startled woman blinked, the rest of her senses rushed in.
The man’s scent, circling and pressing down like summer wildflowers.
The heavy beat of a heart cutting through the chirping insects.
Warmth that could be felt despite no contact.
A strange, dry bitterness flooding her parched mouth.
Cecilia blinked. Even through her closing lids, Alexis remained vividly, suffocatingly clear.
“Then, Sister—have a pleasant night.”
“…Thank you. You have a good night too.”
As Cecilia tried to step back again, she felt her slipper slip loose and lowered her gaze.
What she saw was her bare foot, just slightly revealed—and—
“Morning’s revenge.”
He whispered teasingly, released her, and staggered back toward the pavilion.
A thin ribbon of silvery smoke rose as he lit another cigarette.
A scene where the moonlight seemed to flow in the opposite direction.
Cecilia lingered a moment on the man’s retreating figure, then turned away.
As the imperial spokesperson Françoise Millet officially announced the prince’s return to the palace—confirming the rumors—the social circles of Lucène erupted with excitement.
Reporters swarmed at the news that the once-prickly boy had grown into a mature young man.
But the prince, having returned from the Mage Tower, did not show himself for three days.
He remained within Pontref, attending only to his own schedule.
He stubbornly refused to reveal the strikingly handsome face everyone was desperate to see.
Perhaps worried that public interest would fade, Françoise Millet appeared again on the third day, making a second official announcement—
that the prince had ascended to the position of Crown Prince.
No one was surprised that the line of succession had been formally settled.
Between an adopted imperial princess who could not manifest magic and a direct imperial prince of Lucène who could, it had always been obvious who would inherit the throne.
And so people waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Until the moment when the figure at the center of it all would finally appear.
Guests were arriving one after another to celebrate the union of a handsome groom and a beautiful bride.
The groom was Derrick Frazier, heir of Count Frazier; the bride was Elayna Beaudier, daughter of Baron Beaudier.
As a marriage between two long-established noble houses, the guest list was equally dazzling.
Each arriving carriage bore a familiar crest, and the people who stepped out were faces frequently seen in the papers.
The sound of cameras clicking echoed constantly.
But the main reason reporters had been camped out since dawn was one thing alone.
Elayna Beaudier was none other than the chief lady-in-waiting to Princess Cecilia of Lucène.
By protocol, the princess would not attend the ceremony itself—but surely, surely…
“She’s arrived.”
At someone’s whisper, a small yet powerful stir rippled through the crowd.
From the end of the road, a black carriage bearing the imperial crest rolled silently forward.
Dark as night, quiet as death.
Its sheer presence exuded an overwhelming pressure, naturally calling to mind the ruling house’s epithet.
Lucène of Victory.
The sovereign who would claim the greatest glory for them all—the one and only noble sun destined to reign above.
Before anyone realized it, the crowd had fallen completely silent.
Amid the reverent hush, the carriage came to a smooth stop.
The coachman leapt down and opened the door.
As reporters raised their cameras in a daze, a black-haired young man stepped leisurely down from the carriage.
