Just as Aisha was guiding Roy into her bedroom, her arm looped through his.

No one could have anticipated what happened next.

In the room right next door—separated only by a thin wall—lay Airi, Aisha’s younger sister.

The frail girl had overheard their murmured conversation.

Suddenly, the world spun violently around her.

She pressed her full weight against the door behind her, gripping her crutch tightly.

Only then did she keep herself from collapsing to her knees.

But in her ocean-deep blue eyes, unshed tears had already gathered, shimmering faintly.

Airi had been bedridden since childhood with a mysterious illness.

She could barely move—only managing a few shaky steps with her crutch before exhaustion set in.

That was why she could handle basic self-care during the day when Aisha wasn’t around.

But that was all.

Even moving three steps across her room left her drained for hours.

Sunlight, running freely, jumping—these were dreams forever out of reach.

Except… she *had* felt that warmth before.

Long ago, Aisha would carry her on her back, laughing as she teased her.

Later, Roy pushed her wheelchair through bustling streets, past curious onlookers.

*"I don’t need—"* she’d protested once.

But Roy’s clear eyes saw right through her.

*"Your eyes say otherwise,"* he’d replied gently.

Airi had blushed, unable to answer.

Had her longing really shown so plainly?

Before she could react, Roy slid one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders.

With a smooth motion, he lifted her—

*Princess carry.*

The very pose from her storybooks.

The pose where princes rescued princesses.

Trapped in her sickbed, Airi had dreamed of such a savior.

*Anyone.* Even a Demonfolk prince from forbidden tales.

Someone to lift her from this prison.

Someone to love her.

She never imagined her first princess carry would come from Roy.

Not a prince. Just a poor boy with an ordinary face.

Yet that was why it felt real.

Why the dream no longer floated untouchable in the sky—

but became a distant star she could actually reach for.

She’d remember that sunny day forever.

Sitting in her wheelchair, bathed in warmth beside Roy.

Spring wind carried laughter from the streets.

Normally, crowds terrified her—their stares, pitying or strange.

But with Roy there? She felt safe.

He bought her an ice cream cone. Her first taste of cold sweetness.

When a drop melted on her lip, Roy gently wiped it away with a tissue.

Their eyes met.

Silence stretched.

Roy froze, then looked away, cheeks flushed, crumpling the tissue in his fist.

*"Did you… like it?"* he stammered.

*"Sweet,"* she whispered. *"I love it."*

But her gaze wasn’t on the ice cream.

From that day on, something unnamed bloomed in Airi’s heart.

---

Now, that sweetness had turned to poison.

Airi leaned against the icy door, shoulders trembling.

Golden hair fell limp over her pale face.

Tears traced silent paths down her cheeks.

She bit her lip hard—

determined not to make a sound.

Not to disturb… her sister’s date. Her sister’s love.

*Why didn’t I see it sooner?*

Roy was too kind. Too good.

What right did a cripple like her have to his tenderness?

To dream of a future with him?

She’d never considered it.

Aisha was a Radiant Church sister—bound by vows of chastity until twenty.

So Airi ignored the laughter, the lingering touches.

They must have been lovers long ago.

Whispering secrets. Embracing.

Doing things Airi couldn’t imagine.

Until tonight.

The final step.

Roy knocking on Aisha’s door.

Aisha opening it, flustered and smiling.

A night meant only for them.

Romantic. Perfect.

Airi’s face drained of color.

Her weak body swayed.

She strained to hear the footsteps outside—

two familiar pairs, now sounding utterly foreign.

Roy’s voice, soft as ever:

*"Is Airi asleep?"*

*"Mm. I tucked her in myself,"* Aisha replied, her tone honeyed with secret joy.

*Of course.*

Loved by someone like Roy, even bitter life could turn to honey.

Airi wobbled but didn’t fall.

Some invisible strength held her up.

What was it? She didn’t know.

Then—*click.*

The sharp sound of Aisha’s door locking.

The strength vanished.

Airi slid down the door slowly,

limp as a discarded doll.

Her beloved sister.

The boy she adored.

Their happiness should have been a dream come true.

So why…

did it shatter her heart like this?