Night draped the castle in quiet silver. The corridors slept, the guards half-dreaming at their posts, and only the faint hum of crickets filled the air.
Yumi should've been asleep.
But the scent wouldn't let her rest.
That same soft fragrance from the morning — faintly sweet, warm, and alive — drifted through her window like a whisper. It was as if the night itself was calling her name.
She slipped out of bed, barefoot, hair messy, her white robe trailing behind like mist.
"Just a quick walk," she murmured. "A little midnight perfume investigation. Totally normal."
The castle floor was cold beneath her feet. Every step echoed softly — tap, tap, like a secret knocking on the walls.
When she reached the garden, the air changed. The roses were closed, sleeping under the moonlight, but that scent… it lingered — stronger now.
"Found you," she whispered, following it.
The fragrance led her deep among the hedges, past the marble fountain that shimmered like liquid glass. The moon reflected on the surface, and for a moment, it looked like another sky beneath her feet.
Then, she saw it.
A cluster of pale flowers near the fountain, glowing faintly — not like fireflies or magic, but like they were breathing. Each petal exhaled light, slow and rhythmic, pulsing with the night wind.
Yumi knelt. The air around them shimmered, fragrant and soft. Her heart beat faster.
She reached out, hesitating, then touched a petal.
It was warm.
And suddenly, the fragrance deepened — sweet and sorrowful at once, wrapping around her like invisible silk. The garden shimmered. For a second, she saw the world tilt — the stars bending, the moon trembling on the fountain's surface.
Then a voice — gentle, distant — whispered near her ear:
"Why did you come back?"
Yumi froze.
Her breath caught.
The scent grew stronger, almost dizzying.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
No answer. Only the flowers swaying, their glow softening as though embarrassed to be seen.
Then a shape flickered in the reflection of the fountain — the same faint outline she had seen before. A man's silhouette, tall, beautiful, his expression unreadable but kind.
This time, he wasn't smiling.
Yumi's voice trembled. "You're… the outsider, aren't you?"
The reflection didn't move, but his voice brushed against her thoughts — soft as the scent itself.
"Not anymore."
The fragrance changed — lighter, fading like morning dew.
The reflection blurred, breaking into ripples.
"Wait!" she reached out, her fingers brushing the water — cold now, painfully real.
The voice whispered one last thing, barely audible through the night breeze:
"Don't let him remember."
And just like that, everything went silent. The fragrance was gone.
Yumi stood there, trembling under the moonlight, her heart echoing those impossible words.
Don't let him remember…
She looked toward the castle windows — where Prince Ren's light was still faintly glowing.
"Remember what?" she whispered.
But the night didn't answer. Only the soft wind carried her question away.
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