She heard sobbing and cries. When she turned toward the voice, she saw a bunch of fine boys bullying a kid.
"What a piece of trash," one of the bullies muttered under his breath, but they couldn't afford to take notice of any commotion. She sidestepped a distance and aimed, preparing to shoot them with pebbles.
"What the hell?"
She hurled the pebbles with precision, hitting the bullies. The group quickly scattered, and the kid was left alone. As they ran off, Rosia walked toward the trembling child, who looked like a scared puppy.
"Oops! I shouldn't have been so hasty," she muttered, then extended her hand toward him. "Hey, are you alright?"
The kid looked up at her, tears streaming down his cheeks.
She heard sobbing and turned to see a kid trembling like a puppy.
"What the hell?" she muttered, quickly kneeling in front of him. "You good?"
The kid looked up, tears streaming down his face.
"Hey, stop crying," she teased, offering her hand. "You're alright, right?"
His face was swollen with bruises, lips cracked, and his clothes hung in tatters—definitely not noblewear. His red eyes, though glassy with tears, still burned with something... stubborn. Dirt smudged his cheeks and matted his black hair, yet there was something oddly sharp about him—like a gem buried under mud.
He flinched when Rosia approached.
"D-Did you… help me?" he asked quietly, eyes darting everywhere but her face.
Rosia crossed her arms. "Obviously. What, you thought some fairy dropped pebbles on those bullies?"
He hesitated, then muttered, "I-I'm sorry… don't hit me…"
Rosia blinked. "Huh? Why would I hit you, dummy?"
He didn't answer. Just stared at the ground.
Rosia sighed and held out her hand. "You gonna sit there forever, or are you coming? My hand's gonna fall off."
Slowly, he reached out. His fingers trembled when they touched hers.
"By the way," she added, "you owe me. Big time."
This little punk just made me look like the villain! Rosia puffed her cheeks, watching him pout and sniffle like she'd kicked his puppy. Seriously, what's with this drama? Ugh. Guess I'll go full chaos mode.
She suddenly stomped over, hands on her hips. "Didn't I tell you to take my hand? Hmph. You really don't listen."
Before he could protest, Rosia bent down and yoink!—lifted him up in a chaotic bridal carry.
"W-WHA—?! PUT ME DOWN!!" he yelled, face bursting into flames.
Rosia cackled. "Wow! You weigh nothing! Are you a sack of feathers or a cursed marshmallow?"
"I'M NOT THAT LIGHT! AND STOP—STOP HOLDING ME LIKE THAT!!" he stammered, squirming.
She pretended to wobble. "Oops! I might drop you straight into Death Jared's cave~"
"NOOO! I DON'T WANNA DIE!" he
squeaked, clinging to her sleeve like a kitten.
She plopped him on a bench with a smug grin and flopped beside him. "So? What's your name, Mr. Drama King?"
He looked away, face still red. "Tch… I don't have to tell you."
Rosia poked his cheek. "Is it Crybaby? I bet it's Crybaby."
"IT'S NOT!!" he barked, glaring at her with watery eyes.
She grinned wide. This is fun.
"What's your name ?" Rosia asked him.
Alex fidgeted with his fingers in his lap, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He hesitated, lips twitching like he was fighting his own words.
"You… You can call me… um… Alex," he mumbled, barely above a whisper.
Rosia tilted her head. "Alex? Huh. I can call you that? Meaning… that's not your real name?"
She shrugged. "Well, whatever. Works for me."
She flashed a grin, her crystal-blue eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Alex caught her gaze and immediately turned redder, his voice cracking as he asked, "Um… w-what's your name?"
Rosia burst into laughter, unable to hold it in. She even wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Ah—goddamn—Ahem! Okay, okay. My name's Rosia."
Alex gave a tiny nod, his voice barely audible. "Rosia… It's… a really pretty name."
Rosia blinked, surprised for a second, then smirked. "Aw, look at you being all soft now."
"Hehe~ I'm obviously wayyy prettier than my name," Rosia declared, tossing her tangled hair like it was made of sparkles.
Alex let out a tiny laugh—then immediately winced. "Haha… ow. You... y-you sure are."
Rosia leaned in with a devilish grin. "But you haven't even seen me properly yet, have you?"
"I—I mean…" Alex's eyes widened like he just got caught stealing cookies. "Y-Your eyes! Your voice! They're already… uh… pretty! N-No! Beautiful—wait, NO—UGHH!"
He slapped both hands over his mouth, completely red now.
Rosia gasped dramatically.
"Woooow! Alex is down bad! You like meee~!"
"N-NO I DON'T!! TAKE IT BACK!!" he yelped, hiding his face behind his knees.
She cackled, poking his side. "Caught you red-faced and red-eared, Pookie!"
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!!"
"Fine, fine. Serious question, though. How many years have you walked this cursed Earth, old man?"
Alex peeked out. "I-I'm ten…"
Rosia blinked. "Jeez! You're ancient! I'm only eight!"
Alex groaned. "Great. I got bullied, carried like a baby, and now I'm being age-shamed…"
Rosia grinned. "Yup! And you still haven't run away. You're so whipped."
"You're older than me, yet you're so small and light—like a feather!" Rosia said, squinting at him with exaggerated suspicion. "Do you even eat?"
Alex looked away in embarrassment, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.
Rosia tilted her head. "Where are your parents, by the way? Are you… lost?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, Alex's face darkened. His shoulders stiffened, and he began trembling slightly, his eyes darting to the ground.
Did I say something wrong? Rosia thought, biting her lip. Stupid, stupid! I shouldn't have asked that! What do I do now?!
Panicked, she crouched in front of him and gently leaned into a soft cuddle while he sat frozen on the bench.
"Hey… it's okay. You don't have to answer if you don't want to," she murmured, her voice quieter now.
Alex's expression shifted the moment Rosia mentioned his parents. His eyes lost their shine, and a shadow seemed to fall over his face. He clenched his hands tightly in his lap, trembling—not from cold, but from something deeper. Fear. Pain. Maybe even a memory. He wouldn't meet her eyes, his whole body curling in on itself like he was trying to disappear.
Just as she was about to say something else, Alex suddenly cut her off—
"They… they'll kill me… I don't want to die…" Alex whimpered, his voice cracking like glass. "Please… please don't hurt me… I just want to live…"
Before Rosia could even respond, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms tightly around her. His entire body trembled as if haunted by shadows no one else could see. He buried his face into her shoulder, clutching her like a lifeline. His muffled sobs trembled against her, raw and panicked.
Rosia stood frozen for a heartbeat, blinking in shock. The boy—who moments ago was scowling and awkward—was now shaking like a leaf in her arms
Then his hood slipped off. And as he leaned closer, his head accidentally knocked her half-mask loose. It slid down her cheek and landed softly at their feet.
Her full face was now visible. No more disguise, no more mystery.
Rosia blinked. "O-Oh…" But then, instead of moving back, she wrapped her arms around him more securely.
He was warm, but not in a pleasant way—more like he was burning with fear, lost in a storm no one else could feel. She gently rocked him, whispering softly, "It's okay. You don't have to say anything. Not if you don't want to."
_______
Alex's POV:
They always hurt me. Everyone does. Even when I begged. Even when I stayed quiet.
But this… this was different.
Her arms didn't tighten in anger. Her voice didn't snap in threat. She didn't push him away or mock his tears.
Warm. She's… warm. Her voice is soft. Not fake-soft. Real. Safe.
As his face brushed against her neck, he felt it—her skin, her warmth, her heartbeat.
She smells like wildflowers and something sharp, like pine. I don't even know her, but… why do I feel like I've known this comfort before? Like I've been waiting for it all my life?
His arms clung tighter. He didn't care if it made him look weak. His heart ached too much to care. Slowly, the shaking faded. The sobs quieted. A strange calm took its place.
Is she really human? Or did the gods send her to save me?
Then, his eyes fluttered open—and he saw her face.
No mask. No scowl. Just her big, curious eyes and a concerned pout.
She's… beautiful. Not in the way fancy people are. In the way stars are. Like she doesn't even know how much light she gives off.
He couldn't stop the words as they formed in his mind:
"Rosia…"
Just her name echoed through him like magic. Like a promise.
I don't want to let her go. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
She flicked my forehead.
"Ow! It hurts..." I winced, clutching my forehead, feeling a strange mixture of pain and something else—something that made my heart race.
"Of course it would," she teased, her words light, but there was an underlying warmth in her voice that made me feel... exposed.
I didn't know why I was acting like this around her. I usually kept my distance, always the cold, aloof one. But something about her made me lose my composure, made my heart ache in ways I couldn't explain. My gaze dropped to the ground, and suddenly I couldn't breathe.
"I'm sorry for being clingy... actually, I'm cursed... and... and being in contact with you somehow lightens the pain..." I stammered, my words feeling like they were choking me. Why was I telling her this? Why was I letting her see me so weak?
Her eyes locked onto mine, her confusion palpable. "Are you cursed? Is that why your family is after you?"
Her question hit me like a thunderclap. My breath caught, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze. This was it—the truth, raw and unfiltered. Could I really say it out loud?
I nodded slowly, the weight of my reality crashing down on me. "You could say that... My stepmother... she's trying to kill me. She wants me dead... so my brothers can get the succession. She's done everything she can to break me, to make me disappear... to make me nothing." My voice cracked, the dam I'd built around my heart crumbling. "And it hurts. Every day, every moment, it feels like I'm drowning in my own blood. I've done everything to make her like me, to make her stop..." I choked on the words. "But she doesn't care. She's never cared. I'm just... a pawn in their game. A tool they can use and discard."
I couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears, the years of pain and rejection, everything I had kept buried deep inside exploded, and I found myself sobbing, feeling completely broken. "They all want me gone... But when I'm with you, it's like the pain... it fades. Like for once, I'm not invisible. Like I'm something more than just a curse."