8.
Since that day, Talia spent every spare moment wandering the back garden. She never encountered him again—not until a large elm tree had been planted where she had discovered the dying bird, and the shabby garden had been filled to the brim with vibrant, blooming flowers.
Talia felt a hollow ache, as if she had misplaced a treasure found by chance. If only she had ignored her nanny’s call back then…
Her father, who had promised to see her, did not show his face that evening, and her mother did not seek her out, either. Surrounded by cold-hearted maids, Talia ate a tasteless dinner, the regret of her inaction heavy in her throat.
She should have chased after that boy. If she had begged him, she felt he might have pretended he couldn’t refuse and taken her along. Whenever she lay beneath the cold blankets, the memory of that large, warm hand that had once wrapped around her became a desperate phantom she longed to hold.
Perhaps he was nothing more than a fantasy born of her own loneliness. Just as Talia began to sink into such doubts, the boy appeared before her eyes once again.
Or, to be more precise, Talia had discovered him.
The seasons had cycled, and she had grown from eight to nine years old; instead of raindrops, the sky poured down a scorching, oppressive heat.
While passing through the long hallway leading to the Emperor’s private chambers, Talia was drawn by a shout and turned toward a large arched window. In the wide, vacant lot bleached white by the summer light, apprentice knights in black surcoats were swinging wooden swords.
Even though there were nearly thirty trainees, Talia’s gaze flew to him, drawn like a moth to a flame.
His faded flaxen-gold hair caught the intense summer sun, shimmering faintly like silver. It was the first time she had seen him without his hood, but she recognized him at once. He was the boy who had appeared amidst the early spring rain.
She leaned her upper body over the windowsill to get a better look.
The blue-eyed boy displayed movements so fluid and seamless that he stood out distinctly from the others. Every time his long, lithe limbs moved with elegance and power, it felt as though she could hear the wind being sliced in two.
“That person… do you know who he is?”
The elderly attendant assigned to escort her to the Emperor cast an indifferent glance toward the window.
“They are trainee knights, preparing to enter the Imperial Guard. They are all the children of prestigious noble families.”
He seemed to feel not even a shred of interest in her curiosity. He shot her a displeased look for lingering.
“His Majesty is waiting. Let us go at once.”
Talia reluctantly pulled away from the windowsill and walked down the tomb-quiet hallway. Even after months at the Imperial Palace, she felt no particular emotion about seeing her biological father.
In the past, when she had seen the Emperor from a distance while he visited the Taren Family, it hadn’t occurred to her that he was her father. The man with the gruff face had shown little interest in her, and Talia, in turn, simply despised the man who had stolen her mother’s affection. That remained true even after she was formally entered into the Royal Genealogy.
Upon entering the vast, opulent room, Talia stared with guarded eyes at the burly man standing with his back to the light.
Silence stretched between them. The man sitting behind a desk as massive as a fortress wall finally spoke, his gaze fixed on a parchment document.
“From now on, you must learn the manners of the Imperial family.”
With that, he pressed a seal onto the document.
Talia waited for him to lift his head. But for a long time, his gaze never reached her.
She could not understand. Why would a man who claimed to love Imperial Princess Talia Roem Gwirta so passionately refuse to even look at the biological daughter who shared her likeness?
The man, scribbling with his quill, continued with chilling indifference.
“I have found several excellent tutors for you. From now on, come to the Main Palace before noon for your lessons. You must do your best to catch up on the studies you have fallen behind on.”
Her response was unnecessary. The man waved a hand, dismissing her, and the reunion between father and daughter—a year in the making—was over.
Talia trudged back the way she came, searching for the boy through the windows. But the training had ended; only the stark white summer sunlight drifted over the empty lot.
Since that day, whenever she went to her lessons, she stole glances at him in the training ground. She liked watching the beads of sweat form on the boy’s marble-like face and the faint flush rising on his pale cheeks from the strenuous exercise.
Sometimes, she would speak to him in the silence of her heart.
*Hey… what happened to that bird? Did it eventually die? Did you bury it somewhere? Or, did you let it fly far, far away after it became healthy?*
She wanted to look into his eyes up close and talk to him, just as they had done on the day they were caught in the rain. She wanted to see if the silver crown was still contained within his gaze.
The impulse became too strong to bear.
She was neglecting her history lesson to stare at the training ground when a dark shadow fell behind her. Talia turned, startled. Her mother, who hadn’t been seen for a fortnight, stood at the boundary of light and shadow.
It was a face she had once seen every day, yet for an instant, Talia felt as if her heart had stopped.
Imperial Princess Talia Roem Gwirta, dressed with a dignity befitting an Empress, looked as if every beauty imaginable had been gathered in one place. Even the elf mages who frequently visited the Taren Family could not dare to challenge her radiance.
“What were you looking at so intently?” the Empress asked, looking down at her daughter.
Talia, who had been staring up with blank eyes, suddenly snapped to her senses and stepped away from the window. For some reason, she felt a strange reluctance to speak of the boy.
However, the Empress seemed to notice immediately what had been the focus of her daughter’s gaze. She turned toward the window, looked down at the tall, blonde boy, and smiled meaningfully.
“That is the son of the Grand Duke Siorcan.”
Talia looked up, surprised. She had guessed he was high-born, but she hadn’t expected him to come from such a prestigious lineage. The Empress’s deep blue eyes shone, as if she could read her daughter’s inner thoughts.
“Do you want to have that child?”
Talia turned bright red, unable to find an answer.
Seeing her daughter’s expression was enough for the Empress. She burst into a light laugh, then leaned down to kiss her daughter’s cheek.
“If you want him, I could give him to you as a gift.”
The whisper sounded eerie, like the wind through a dark forest at night. The Empress straightened, a smile painted onto her deep red lips.
“But nothing comes for free. If you want a reward, you must first satisfy your parents’ hearts.”
Reading a faint hint of reproach in her voice, Talia hurriedly clutched the history book she had tossed onto the windowsill and ran. She could feel her mother’s gaze clinging to the back of her head like a spider’s web.
This was the mother she had missed every night. Yet why was she running?
She had intended to throw a tantrum, to complain about her studies, to pour out all the resentment and frustration that had built up. But the woman who had become the Empress no longer felt like the mother she knew. She had transformed into something unfamiliar and terrifying, and Talia dared not defy her.
That night, Talia tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
She hadn’t been entirely happy back with the Taren Family, but she had once had an ally in her mother—a best friend and comrade. If they were together, she could endure anything the world threw at her.
But now, Imperial Princess Talia Roem Gwirta stood tall as the Empress, and Talia was left alone in a strange place among strangers.
Loneliness burrowed into her bones. She desperately wished for someone to be by her side. If only someone would hold her in warm arms and look at her with gentle eyes, she felt she would give them everything she had.
That was why. It was why she decided she would meet that boy, whom she had only watched from afar, in person.