“Waaah—Milady—!”

Adelaide had just surfaced; before the first breath could taste like spring water, Anisa slammed into her and hugged her like iron bands.

“Mm—s-sorry, I made you worry…”

Adelaide steadied like a reed in wind, then patted Anisa’s back, soothing a startled fawn.

“I thought… I really thought…” Her voice shook, like a stone dropping into a deep well.

“I’m fine,” Adelaide said, a soft lantern in a cold night.

Her maid was timid, a shy sparrow; yet it was the first time Adelaide had seen her cry like summer rain.

She had sent Anisa away and vanished; guilt must have gnawed her like frost on leaves. Adelaide forced a smile, brittle as porcelain.

“But I really can’t breathe, Anisa…”

“Waaah!”

The arms tightened, a python coil squeezing the air thin.

Elsewhere, another farce flashed like sparks in dry grass.

“Mira! I’m challenging you! Ready to get flattened?” Neprah’s voice cracked like a drum in a storm.

Neprah and Samir had rushed in like riders on a gust; Samir moved to care like warm sun, while Neprah’s first words to Mira were a thrown gauntlet.

“Told you—you’re not worthy.” Mira’s reply was a blade of ice.

Veins jumped on Neprah’s handsome face, ropes swelling under taut skin.

“Hah? You—!”

In the “script,” that was Neprah’s role: after being shamed in public, every sight of Mira pulled him like a bull to the ring. Outside the Second Prince route, Mira almost never accepted his challenge.

Unless you struck her wound like a finger on a bruise, she wouldn’t even spare a true look.

The quarrel crackled there, while Samir turned to Adelaide like a calm stream.

“Are you hurt? And how did you fall underground?”

“I’m okay…” The words trembled; she looked away, a shutter drawn against dawn.

“What is it? Some hidden reason?” His tone was steady, a hand over a flame.

“No…” Adelaide hesitated on the surface, like a dragonfly skimming a pond. “I heard fighting here that day and came to look. Then the floor cracked, and I fell.”

She didn’t finish, but Samir understood, the picture settling like silt in water.

He glanced at Neprah, the culprit still bellowing; anger surged under his face like a volcano under ice, then cooled.

“Allow me to apologize for my foolish brother, Adelaide.” His head dipped, a tree bowing in wind.

“For placing you in danger through my brother’s rashness—this favor, the royal family… no, Neprah and I won’t deny it.” His words fell like a seal in wax.

A favor.

The word lit Adelaide like dawn through paper screens.

So much had stormed beneath the ground that she had almost forgotten: she’d risked the battlefield to anchor this exact favor.

Now Samir owed her, a thread tied to his wrist; she should pull it gently, close the distance, stitch warmth between them…

But a cool laugh slid from behind, like frost across a mirror.

“My, our Prince Samir truly cares for the Douglas Family’s young lady.” Mira’s voice rang, a silver bell under snow.

She passed Adelaide, golden hair brushing her cheek like camellia petals, leaving a scent like a mountain garden after rain.

“Another person fell down there too. Yet it seems you didn’t have the breath to greet her.” Her tone was glass-hard.

Samir frowned, a cloud shadow. He pushed his glasses, light glinting like a shard.

“Don’t be unreasonable, Mira. You know the vice president’s health.” His words were firm, a stake in ground.

“So what?” Her reply snapped, a thin sheet of ice cracking.

“Few monsters in this world can threaten you. She isn’t you—if she was hurt—”

“I don’t care.” Mira’s smile bloomed like a flawless winter rose, beautiful and cold.

“I’m only here to remind you—Prince Samir, and the Douglas young lady—know your place. Keep your distance.” Each syllable was a snowflake that didn’t melt.

She paused; her eyes were hard lakes under winter.

“After all, I am the First Crown Prince’s fiancée—no matter what happens, that will not change.”

Adelaide stared at Mira, stunned, as if the ballroom night rewound, frost refilling the air, Mira peeling her hand away and saying Adelaide wasn’t fit to be her sister.

Unlike that time, someone broke the ice with a shaking cry.

“Lady Mira, why say something like that…!” The voice came like a sparrow beating against a window.

Adelaide turned; Anisa’s body trembled, a willow in storm.

“You clearly…” The words faltered, like a candle guttering—Mira cut them clean.

“Oh? I clearly what?” Her gaze narrowed, a blade slipping from its scabbard.

Anisa met that look; her knees gave out like rice stalks under hail, and she dropped to the ground.

“If you can’t decide what to say, don’t waste my time, maid.” Mira’s tone was cold water.

She turned her head.

“And next time, don’t call me ‘milady.’”

She left those words like footprints in fresh snow and turned away. Everyone watched the departing figure, tongues stilled by frost.

Except one muscle-headed fool who couldn’t read the weather.

“Hey, I don’t know what’s going on, but you haven’t dueled me—”

A wind cut through, whoosh; a heartbeat later, a heavy thud slammed the ground. Metal vanished from Neprah’s gauntlet, bare fingers exposed like peeled bark.

“Ow! You’ve got no honor, woman! You attacked before the start!” His roar echoed, a boar in brush.

Mira ignored the sound and slipped into the woods, a shadow among leaves. Neprah lunged to chase, but Samir caught his collar like a hook.

“You don’t have any right to duel. You ditched the magic instructor and injured a student. You’re headed for confinement.” His voice was iron.

“Hell no!”

Thunk—

Samir chopped the back of Neprah’s head; stars bloomed like fireflies behind his eyes.

“My brother seems a little out of it. Please don’t mind him.” Samir’s face stayed dark, a thunderhead.

He spoke calmly while dragging his half-conscious brother away, boots grinding gravel like slow rain.

The farce still crackled nearby, but Adelaide didn’t care; she stood staring at the path Mira had taken, like a lone lantern fixed on a road.

The whispers from memory rose again, a winter wind brushing reeds.

“In this underground, nothing happened.”

“Tell no one. That’s my payment for saving your life.”

For Adelaide, there was no reason to refuse—no, she welcomed that secrecy like a curtain. Hiding what happened below was a wish granted.

She did want to win Mira over; yet in public, their roles wouldn’t change. As the chosen contrast, the worse Mira’s name looked, the brighter Adelaide’s lantern would shine.

So she should lower Mira’s reputation by any thread she could pull.

Hide that Mira helped her below. Show the arrogant edge like a blade in sun. Both were to Adelaide’s advantage.

Yet now, watching Mira’s vanishing back, she bit her lip, a cherry pressed white.

Steady yourself, Adelaide. You should be happy.

She reminded herself, a mantra whispered like prayer beads sliding.

Yes. You should be happy…