I waited until evening. I knew her routine after asking maids here and there—in the evening, she would go to the garden at the backside of the palace to watch the sunset and "meditate," which usually just meant brooding with a sword in her lap.
So, I also went to the garden.
As I entered, the air changed, thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the earthy musk of damp soil. It was a labyrinth of color; vibrant snapdragons, glowing moon-lilies, and ancient, gnarled trees that had likely seen the first tile being placed of the palace. The path was made of white quartz that caught the dying light of the sun, glowing like a trail of fallen stars.
I followed the path through a thicket of weeping willows, their branches draping down like curtains of green silk. Soon, I saw her.
Elena was sitting on the grass in a small clearing facing the horizon. The sky was a bleeding mess of orange and deep violet. She sat with her legs crossed, her back rigid, and her rapier was resting across her lap.
"Phew!"
She let out a long, and began to mutter something, her voice low and frantic, as if she were trying to convince the flowers of her own lies.
"I am just worried about him," she whispered to the wind. "That is all. Nothing else."
Worried? About me?
"Because he is weak and insignificant, that is why I can’t get him out of my mind," she continued, her grip tightening on the scabbard until her knuckles turned white. "I am just a nice person who cares for everyone. Yes. That’s it."
I stood a few paces behind her, hidden by the shadow of a rose trellis.
[NOTICE: INTERNAL CONFLICT DETECTED]
[FEEDBACK: SELF-DECEPTION / ANXIETY /CARE/ CONFUSION / PROTECTIVE INSTINCT]
[RESONANCE STABILITY: 7.8% → 8.1%]
The screen just confirms that she is talking about me.
It was fascinating. She was trying so hard to rationalize her obsession.
"And that comment about the girlfriend..." she hissed, suddenly slamming her fist into the grass. "He’s a fool! A delusional, arrogant fool! How dare he say something so... so..."
She trailed off, her face heating up even in the cool evening air.
"So accurate?" I said as I stepped forward.
Elena didn’t just flinch this time; she nearly did a backflip. She scrambled to her feet, her sword sliding off her lap and clattering against the ground. She turned to face me, her eyes wide and startled, reflecting the crimson of the sunset.
"You!" she gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "How long have you been standing there, eavesdropping like a common thief?"
"Long enough to hear that you’re apparently the most ’nice’ and ’caring’ person in the kingdom," I said, my voice dry. I took a slow step forward, closing the distance. "Tell me, Elena, does a nice person tell the staff to treat their brother like a ghost? Or is that just a new form of charity I haven’t heard of yet?"
"I—I... that’s..." Elena’s tongue tripped over itself, her voice catching in a throat constricted by sheer embarrassment.
She looked as if she wanted to melt and disappear. But then, as if a switch had been flipped, her eyes sharpened. The flustered princess vanished, replaced by a wall of icy, rigid silence. Her face smoothed into a mask of forced seriousness, though the tips of her ears remained a betraying shade of scarlet. Without a single word, she pivoted on her heel, preparing to storm off.
"If you’re going," I called out, my voice cutting through the quiet garden, "then please take your sword with you."
She stopped dead. I leaned down, my fingers brushing the cool steel of the scabbard. I picked up the rapier and held it out toward her.
Elena turned back slowly. She snatched the weapon from my hand with a sharp, aggressive motion, the metal clicking as she readjusted her grip.
"Hmph!"
She let out a sound of pure, unadulterated indignation, lifting her chin and turning to walk away again.
"Oh, and also," I added, my voice dropping to that low, calm register that I knew would rattl her cage, "if you walk away now, you’ll spend the rest of the night wondering if I heard the part where you admitted you can’t get me out of your mind."
Elena froze once more, her shoulders tensing so hard they looked like they might snap.
I took a few casual steps until I was standing just behind her, not touching, but close enough that she could likely feel the cold aura of my presence.
"Was it ’weak and insignificant’?" I mused, tilting my head. "Is that the excuse you’re going with? Because I have to say, Elena... you don’t usually hide behind pillars for people you think are insignificant."
She finally turned, her chest heaving as she glared at me. "I was not hiding! I was... observing. Ensuring you didn’t collapse and stain the marble with your incompetence."
"And the maid?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Was she also part of the ’observation’ team?"
"I am trying to help you!" she burst out, her composure finally fracturing. "If people ignore you, they can’t see how much you’ve changed! They won’t see... they won’t see that you’re becoming something... different."
She stepped closer, her eyes searching mine with a desperate, frantic energy.
"You’re messing with things you don’t understand, Rio. That talk yesterday, the way you’re walking today... it’s not right. So yes, I told them to stay away. For their sake. And maybe for yours."
I didn’t blink. I just looked at her, letting the silence do its work.
"Are you done lying to yourself," I asked, "or do I need to keep listening to the flowers?"
Elena’s face went through a kaleidoscope of emotions—indignation, shame, and then a sudden, sharp spike of something that felt like raw vulnerability.
"I am not lying," she hissed, though her voice lacked its usual steel. "I am the only one in this family who actually notices when you’re breathing. Laila sees a disappointment. Aries sees a target. But you... you’re acting like you’ve already died and come back as something else."
She took another step, closing the gap until the heat from her training-honed body pressed against the cold aura I radiated.
"What did you whisper to Commander? Why did you touch that maid’s chin? And why..." She stopped for a moment before continuing, "Why do you look at me like I’m a puzzle you’ve already solved?"
"Because you’re predictable," I said.
She laughed. Not softly. Not nervously. It was sharp as if to mock me.
"Then you’re wrong," she said. "Because I don’t even understand myself right now."