The city lord pressed his palm down lightly, signaling for silence.

The young nobles instantly realized their lapse in decorum, clamping their mouths shut. Only their flushed faces betrayed their inner excitement.

"You all know the importance of the Holy Emblem Selection Battle. I won’t belabor it," the city lord began, his smile easing the solemn atmosphere. "Today, we hold a preliminary duel so you may gauge your own strength. Every young person here qualifies to compete for Bluewater City’s Holy Emblem."

"Fights end at first blood. You may challenge any opponent—but only with mutual consent."

"This match won’t affect your Holy Emblem rankings. Keep your hidden cards close; no need to reveal them today."

"Ladies uninterested in combat may enjoy the gardens on the other side of Morse Castle. The view rivals this one, and Bluewater River is nearby. Refreshments await inside the castle. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

Stepping aside, the city lord called out, "Who volunteers first?"

"I will!"

A youth in light armor strode onto the grass. Drawing his longsword, he plunged it point-first into the earth, hand resting on the hilt.

"I accept all challenges. I won’t retreat—until I fall!"

"Hah! Boy of the Garo family—you’ve inherited your father’s courage," the city lord applauded, grinning. "Who’ll face him?"

Another figure emerged—a stern-faced young man. Sword in hand, he took the field. The two Knights raised blades in salute. Combat was imminent.

I’d planned to watch a few bouts, but Violet tugged my sleeve, pulling me away.

"Two idiots swinging swords? Boring," she muttered, scowling. "Hate crowded places. Makes my skin crawl."

"Then let’s go elsewhere," I said gently, ruffling her hair.

She beamed up at me.

We wandered into the garden reserved for young ladies—a riot of colors. Unfamiliar fruit trees stood lush and blooming. Strolling aimlessly, we halted at the shore of an artificial lake. Crystal-clear water mirrored the sky, shimmering with the same faint blue glow as Bluewater River.

Violet released my hand and darted to the water’s edge. Scooping up pebbles, she grinned with childlike wonder.

"Sister Myra," she called, waving a gray stone before my eyes, "have you played this game?"

"What game?" I asked.

"The one where you throw stones into water. I saw other kids do it once... but never learned how." She mimed the motion, worried I wouldn’t understand.

Ah. I thought I knew.

"Like this?" I plucked a pebble from her palm. "If it’s the game I’m thinking of—I know a trick or two."

Gazing at the still water, I took aim. With a swift flick of my wrist: "Hey!"

The stone danced across the lake like a musical note—*plink-plink-plink-plink-plink*—kissing the surface five times before vanishing. *Five skips?* Even I was impressed.

"Well, Violet? Is this the game?"

But her attention wasn’t on the ripples.

She stood transfixed, staring at the calming water. On that doll-like face bloomed a smile so radiant it seemed to fulfill a lifelong dream. Her sky-blue eyes glittered like fireworks bursting in midnight.

*So bright...*

Not just from the sunlight on water droplets.

Tears welled in her eyes.

Her blue irises reflected the transparent lake.

Wind swept petals—emerald, rose, gold, amber—across the water. Grass blades twirled past. Violet’s light brown hair lifted like a mother’s caress. Silence reigned, broken only by the breeze.

When the wind faded, petals drifted onto the lake. Ripples spread gently, then faded away beneath the surface.

"Violet... what’s wrong?" I whispered, afraid to shatter the reflection trembling in her pupils.

She jolted back to reality. "W-What?"

I wiped a tear tracing her cheek. "Nothing," I murmured, shaking my head.

More tears spilled. She gripped my wrist, still dazed. Then she buried her face in my chest. A muffled sob escaped.

Time slowed. Soon, she lifted her head—eyes red-rimmed but smiling.

"This view... it’s so beautiful. It made me cry."

"Mm," I nodded. "Truly breathtaking."

Her smile held steel.

"Eh? Sister Myra, you think it’s beautiful too?" She dabbed her damp eyes. "But you didn’t cry. Guess I’m just not used to going out... Ugh. Wish I could see sights like this at home."

"Some views," I tapped her forehead lightly, "only exist beyond your doorstep. Stay inside, and you’ll never find them."

"Ow! That hurts, Sister Myra!" She winced dramatically, then burst into giggles at her own silliness.

A shower of petals swirled on the wind.

"Sister Myra... why did Burdock force me to come to this boring gathering?"

"I’m not sure. Maybe to see this scenery?"

"But now I just want to go home. My new house still feels strange... but it’s better than this. So dull."

"Dull?" I smiled. "Then play with me. I’ve nothing else today. I’ll keep you company."

"Really?" Her eyes lit with hope.

"Of course. Sisters don’t lie."

She wiped her eyes, beaming.

"Thank you, Sister Myra. Meeting you... is the best thing ever."

Her smile made my heart tremble—a warmth like pity, like ache.

I kept my promise. For the rest of that day, I stayed by Violet’s side, hoping to soothe the hidden sorrow she carried.