READING GUIDANCE
" This is a direct sentence in the present time."
" This is a direct sentence in the past time."
' This is a character's inner thought in the present time.'
' This is a character's inner thought in the past time.'
[ This is a direct sentence in sign language in the present time.]
[ This is a direct sentence in sign language in the past time.]
HAPPY READING!
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' I could not hear anything!' she screamed from the bottom of her heart, trying to release the fear that gripped her with every passing second. She clutched the princess tightly, refusing to let go despite the madness surrounding them.
She pounded on the princess, tapping her back, desperate to bring her back to her senses. "AAAA!" she cried, forcing the broken sound from her throat. "AA!"
Startled, she felt a hand on her shoulder from behind. She jolted, instinctively pushing the princess and Arisha protectively behind her.
The familiar golden eyes met hers, calm and steady. A large, comforting hand brushed her cheek gently, communicating reassurance without a single word. The warmth of his presence washed over her, grounding her frayed nerves.
Irisha, still in disbelief, reached toward him, her hand trembling, seeking proof that he was real. Her pale face and pained frown revealed everything she had endured.
[... You are late.] she sign slowly, her motion almost unconscious as her hand sought him.
"I am sorry," he said softly, wrapping her in a gentle embrace. The moment her skin met his, and she inhaled his familiar scent, a wave of exhaustion crashed over her. The immense weight she had carried for hours finally seemed to crumble.
She closed her eyes, savoring the air she had longed for. The world around her dimmed, and she sank into a deep, comforting sleep—one she had been craving desperately.
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' Who would have thought he could show such an expression?' Even after spending years around the man she called her older brother, Ivy had never seen him embrace someone so gently, as if he feared she might break in his arms.
The woman who had lost consciousness fell into his embrace. He held her tightly, inhaling deeply as though trying to draw her very essence into himself. The crowned prince of the Empire Malum, known for his merciless and calculating nature, knelt, gazing intently at the woman who had closed her eyes.
"...Can you stand?" he asked, rising and looking at Ivy while still holding Irisha in his arms.
She nodded.
"Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked, turning his attention to Arisha, who was crying beside her.
Arisha shook her head quickly. "No... but, sister—"
"She will be okay. I will make sure of it," he said. "Can you walk alone?"
Arisha nodded, wiping her tears with her tiny hands. She glanced at Ivy, standing beside her, and took her hand. It was unexpected, and Ivy didn't quite understand why she allowed it. Perhaps she was too exhausted to think clearly, or maybe the sight of Arisha trying to hold back her tears was too pitiful to ignore. Either way, Ivy held her hand and led her out of the dark cave.
Outside, the thick forest had turned into a scorched wasteland. There was no sign of the Knights of Jahar, only smoke rising from the burned ground. Dragons soared overhead, some perched on the nearest large trees. Castra's golden eyes widened briefly before returning to their usual calm. ' Ivy thought, sensing his concern.
"Come, Arisha," Castra said, kneeling in front of the child after laying Irisha in the imperial carriage, where the palace medics tended to her injuries. "You need treatment too."
Arisha ran into his embrace without hesitation, hugging him as though he were an ordinary man she could trust with her entire heart.
'...Could she look at me the same way she does at my brother?' Ivy wondered.
"My Lady, is your body okay?" a woman in a butler suit asked, bowing. "Do you need treatment?"
"No need," Ivy replied. "Just prepare the transfusion."
"Do it in my carriage," Castra added.
Ivy followed his instructions, noting that he wasn't looking at her but at Arisha. Inside the moving carriage, while Arisha slept in Castra's embrace, her body nestled against his, he covered her with a blanket and ensured she was comfortable. Ivy had never seen this side of him, but somehow, she understood it.
"...Why did you take so long?" Ivy asked, adjusting her coat and glancing at the hose of her blood transfusion.
Castra, still focused on Arisha, explained, "You might not realize it, but you were swept far from the border. We had difficulty finding your trail, and Ahava couldn't signal your location because she was severely injured."
Ivy frowned. "How is she?"
"The sorceress's attack was precise. It injured her neck," Castra said. "Luke found Ahava fighting them alone before our reinforcements arrived, and she collapsed."
"That's why I felt like I lost her for a while," Ivy said, gripping her hands tightly, feeling the weight of her pain. "I should have done better. I'm so sorry..."
Castra looked at his sister, seeing her desperate regret. "Yes, you should," he said, his voice calm, firm, carrying both command and judgment. There was no softness here, but neither cruelty. Just recognition of the truth she tried to avoid.
Ivy had never expected kindness or familial warmth from him. They both knew the nature of their relationship. This sort of treatment—rare, deliberate, careful—was something Ivy had long accepted as normal in her life.
"I know—" she began.
"With your personality, you'll keep learning the hard way if you act so childishly. You always have," Castra said, sharp, unwavering.
Ivy didn't move, didn't show a thing, but she noticed it—a small shift under his usual iron gaze. Her pride kept her still, yet the thought lingered quietly, impossible to shake.
Their golden eyes then met. "We carry wicked blood. Don't be reckless. Control yourself," he added, each word exact, each tone demanding.
She said nothing, remaining outwardly untouched. Still, beneath the calm, she recognized it—perhaps he did see her, in a way she had never allowed herself to believe.
It was a feeling entirely new. Though they shared the same blood, Ivy had never truly felt the weight—or the possibility—of a sibling's care, not until now.
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***
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Then again, she looked up at the familiar ceiling she had once gazed at and sighed, surrounded by the darkness of the room that carried that same familiar scent. As she recalled the events that had just transpired, a wave of pain swept over her, her entire body aching terribly. Slowly waking, she noticed Arisha curled up near her, sleeping peacefully. Surprise flickered across her face, but it softened into a smile as she gently brushed her sister's hair—only to be startled by the warmth of a hand now touching her cheek.
Her eyes softened as she gazed into the golden eyes looking at her with sincere concern. She smiled weakly, realizing how difficult it would be to push him away now. [I am okay.] Even though he didn't speak and only looked deeply into her eyes, his expression conveyed his worry. [So, don't look at me like that.]
"I told you not to do anything that would hurt you," he said, his expression showing the seriousness of his statement.
She giggled softly. [How could I know Jahar's Knights would attack a place I hoped to be a day-off destination?] He looked at her as though he couldn't take her joke seriously. Strangely, it didn't affect how she felt about him. Every time she looked into his golden eyes, she was reminded of the struggles, the pain, and the misery of the princess she had once been.
'Are you struggling too, right now?' she wanted to ask, but couldn't. Instead, she settled into the comfort of his touch on her cheeks. His refreshing scent and tenderness made her heart race and her cheeks flush.
"... Tomorrow, I will call the Imperial Pharmacy again," he said, brushing her hair back from her ear with his hand.
[... Wasn't I already healed?] she asked. [I thought I was.]
"Yes, you were," he replied. "I'll fix your bandage," he said, standing up and bringing a small box from the table near the entrance. He set the box and a chair next to his bed, then sat down close to her.
She flinched when he gently lifted her wrapped right foot and placed it on his thigh.
"Tell me if it hurts," he said.
She winced in pain as she looked at her foot in his hands. [... Then why am I still injured if the Imperial Pharmacy already healed me?]
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you think their treatment should have made you completely healthy?"
[I did, before.]
He giggled. "You're silly. Then what's the point of our hospital project if people could easily be healed by them?" He seemed genuinely amused, and she enjoyed seeing his usual smile. "... Humans have limits when it comes to allowing such power into their bodies. Light power can neutralize abnormalities inside the body, but if you're exposed to it continuously, it can disrupt the mana flow and become dangerous," he explained while gently stroking her foot. "So... tomorrow, and for several days after, you'll need continued treatment."
She looked puzzled. [Am I really that injured?] She felt pain throughout her body, but there were no visible injuries on the surface.
"... You broke bones," he said. Realizing this was a sensitive topic for her, he turned away while still stroking her foot and rang the bell near the bedside table. "You need to take your medicine too," he added. He then turned toward the entrance door, where the butler named Ray came in. They spoke briefly before he set her foot back down and stood up. He brushed Arisha's hair and adjusted her blanket. "It seems like she won't wake up for a while."
Stunned by his actions toward her sister, she looked at him. [Is something wrong?]
"Neither of you has eaten anything since we arrived."
[Ah. Just let her sleep for a while,] she said, continuing to brush Arisha's hair. [Will they bring food here? Is that okay?]
He tilted his head. "Why not?"
Irisha smiled, unsurprised by his response. [... Then, I'll go to the bathroom first.] She opened the blanket covering her and looked at him. [Is there something I can use to walk?] It felt awkward to ask this of the prince, but there was no other option.
"Come here," he said, spreading his hands. She looked at him, confused, until she realized he was going to lift her.
She startled and looked at him with a frown, gripping his wide shoulders in panic. [What are you doing?!]
He simply smiled at her and said something she couldn't quite understand. [Can't talk?] She tried to interpret as best as she could.
Then he smiled handsomely. "Yes, I cannot talk," which made her blush while awkwardly burying herself inside his embrace. Then she buried herself even more after she found out that there were so many ladies-in-waiting in front of his room.
[You should go away!] she grumped with her hands. After being put into the toilet, she blushed so hard that the redness of her face spread to her ears.
He seemed to giggle, but he hid it in his serious expression. "Why are you so embarrassed about this thing?"
[How could you not be?!]
"You are in no place to comment, as you are a patient."
She glared at him. [Then just bring me a lady!]
Then he giggled while looking at sulky Irisha. "Yes, I will," he said. "... She will tell me if you are done."
[I can go back by myself!!] But the prince had already turned away and left her in the very extravagant bathroom, which was the same size as her living room.
Then, when the lady came and waited for her to do her business, she called the damned prince, welcoming him with a glare.
[I will invent a wheelchair.]
"People already invented one," he said while spreading his hands to her. "But no one in the palace needs it in the first place."
She became grumpier but still accepted his hands while surrounding her hands around his neck as he easily lifted her.
She then looked at him, who was smiling annoyingly. [I am mad at you, Your Grace!] while embracing him and burying herself inside him as she tried not to let others see her in this state.
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She just did not know how the people working that shift found it lovely to see the wicked prince they were always terrified of act sweetly to a woman they admired.
***