Today’s Imperial Capital buzzed with more energy than ever—not for any grand festival, but for the summons ceremony held in Princess Wensidia’s name. News of it had swept through the city, naturally drawing the people’s attention.

As a princess, Wensidia held significant sway in the hearts of the populace, largely due to her approachable nature. Many revered her as the future empress.

Naturally, the heroes who rescued her during the recent kidnapping incident were met with public adoration.

Though Lunette Orpheus had earlier fretted over what to wear, she realized this summons ceremony—essentially an awards ceremony—wasn’t a noble banquet. No need for flashy attire. After careful thought, she changed into a black-and-white knight’s uniform. Unlike her training gear, this lacked armor; the tailored fabric accentuated her figure, while a sword at her hip proclaimed her knighthood.

Every inch the dashing knight, she’d tied her waist-length hair into a practical ponytail for the occasion. The elegant strands were gone, replaced by vibrant energy. No one would doubt she hailed from the Imperial Knights.

“All set.”

She adjusted her skirt and stepped out. This look perfectly matched her status as an Imperial Dragon Knight. Moyu might’ve been mildly surprised—she’d likely expected Lunette to attend in noble finery.

Yet the students clearly knew this wasn’t a ball. Not a single attendee wore flamboyant outfits; all dressed appropriately for the ceremony. Even Caina, whose usual aura screamed noble heiress, wore a modest knight’s robe today, shedding her porcelain-doll elegance.

Riding the royal carriage, they reached the palace swiftly—no fool would dare block their path.

Lunette had worried Moyu might replace her due to unforeseen circumstances, but everything seemed smooth. She couldn’t trust Moyu with such a crucial event. Missing music was regrettable, but this summons mattered.

“Will this ceremony end today?”

Lunette wasn’t reassured. If it spilled into tomorrow, Moyu might cause unnecessary trouble.

“Typically, one day suffices,” Caina, raised among high nobility, offered after consideration.

“But exceptions exist. She *is* the Imperial Princess. Delaying to a second day isn’t impossible.”

*If it’s Wensidia… she might actually do that,* Lunette thought grimly.

Escorted into the palace amid cannon salutes from guards, the ten students involved in the princess’s rescue received honored-guest treatment. Led by a royal representative, they entered the hall countless dreamed of—a place the Chinese called the “Hall of the Son of Heaven.”

The palace décor exuded meticulous grandeur. Pillars upheld the imperial structure; crimson carpets stretched before them, flanked by red-uniformed guards. Even nobles gasped at the splendor—royalty truly stood apart.

After all, nobility had tiers. High nobles might glimpse the palace; low nobles might never step inside its sacred halls in their lifetimes. Commoners? They’d never even enter the palace courtyards.

Princess Wensidia awaited them in the grand hall. Gone was her Rockefeller Academy uniform. Instead, a white noble gown flowed to her heels, dotted with golden starlight, its feather-like collar radiating regal grace. This was Wensidia, Imperial Princess—not the student council president.

“Welcome,” she murmured, a smile revealing pure nobility.

Ten students would receive royal rewards for their varied contributions—a proposal from Princess Wensidia herself. The Emperor hadn’t attended; he’d entrusted everything to his daughter, perhaps seeing no need to interfere in her arrangements. Regardless, this summons was momentous.

Having faced the Emperor’s summons before—and received the Imperial Knight’s Medal—Lunette found this ceremony modest. She remained calm. But others, like the commoner student Hill, trembled with their first palace visit, face pale as parchment.

“Easy now,” Saria patted Hill’s head. “You’ll be an Imperial warrior someday. A small ceremony won’t break you.”

*Never knew Saria had this side,* Lunette mused, surprised.

To Lunette, this grand awards ceremony meant little. Quietly accept the rewards, endure the baptism ritual, and endure the tedious formalities—that was all.

The morning session featured the princess’s gratitude speech: thanking classmates for rescuing her during the kidnapping, hoping to study alongside them, and pledging future service to the nation.

A midday banquet followed in the palace, attended by select nobles. Tedious greetings were unavoidable. Wensidia had orchestrated this to help students forge connections with high society before graduation.

Finally, the afternoon ceremony arrived. Princess Wensidia personally honored each of the ten students. Though no lands or titles were granted, monetary rewards ensured no one left empty-handed.

“Thank you for your efforts, Theos,” she said, pinning a Braveheart Medal—a symbol of noble honor—onto his chest. Her smile was polished, her words rehearsed.

Having known the princess since childhood, Theos didn’t mind the formality. He knelt in knightly salute, accepting her blessing. Though this medal weighed less than Lunette’s Imperial Knight’s Medal, its honor was no light thing.

Rewards were given in order. Lunette, credited with the greatest merit, stood last. As she ascended the steps, Wensidia’s gaze never left her.

Lunette knew she’d contributed nothing to this mission. All credit belonged to Moyu Manatsu, the otherworlder who couldn’t attend. Even receiving praise brought her no joy—she stubbornly believed none of this was hers.

“Lunette Orpheus…”

Wensidia’s eyes burned with hidden warmth, poorly masked but unmistakable to Lunette.

“The Princess’s blessing is my honor,” Lunette replied, kneeling in knightly salute without raising her head.

Though expecting this, Wensidia’s heart still clenched.

*“Why won’t you look up?”* she whispered, voice low enough for only two ears.

“I…”

Wensidia ached to pour out her heart, yet words failed her.

“I merely fulfilled my duty, Your Highness.”

Lunette kept her head bowed, refusing even a glance.

Two girls—one kneeling, one standing—seemed close yet were worlds apart.

Wensidia had no right to demand more. She’d erred first; Lunette’s coldness was justified. Forcing her to look up as nobility would backfire. That wasn’t what Wensidia wanted.

“Esteemed Miss Orpheus,” she recited formally, hiding the sorrow in her eyes, “your valor commands my deepest respect. The Empire needs talents like yours. Wensidia Stro Mirastin sincerely wishes you’ll devote your strength to this nation.”

“I, Lunette Orpheus, swear lifelong service to the Empire,” Lunette murmured, head still lowered, accepting the ritual baptism without a flicker of emotion.

The ceremony should’ve ended there. At least, that’s what Lunette believed.

“Miss Lunette Orpheus, attend me privately.”

Wensidia’s unexpected request stunned her.

“Regarding this nation’s future, I wish to consult its genius face-to-face.”

“Your Highness—”

Lunette searched for a polite refusal, but a cool voice cut her off from above:

“This is an order.”

Royalty’s command brooked no refusal—not even for high nobles. Lunette, of modest standing, had no choice.

Trapped, she rose and followed the princess, ignoring Caina’s worried glance. Guests assumed it was merely a private discussion.

Inside the chamber, Wensidia locked the door behind them. Alone, Lunette grew uneasy under the princess’s piercing gaze.

“Your Highness—”

“Drop that act.”

“You’re—”

“I said: no honorifics.”

Wensidia’s intensity was new—her glare sharp enough to wound. Lunette froze.

“I am royalty. My word is law. You have no right to defy me.”

Her tone hardened again, pressing down on Lunette like invisible weight. Wensidia rarely wielded her title this way. Lunette must have truly angered her.

“…What do you want?”

After a long silence, Lunette finally spoke—no honorifics this time, her tone utterly unfamiliar.

"I can’t take it anymore! Why do you pretend? Why do you avoid me? Don’t you know this only makes me angrier?"

Princess Wensidia had shed all royal composure. Now she was just a petulant girl—her true self laid bare.

"I kept getting closer to you. I refuse to believe you noticed nothing. You *knew*, didn’t you?"

She wouldn’t pretend ignorance any longer. She’d held it in far too long.

"It’s *me*! Doesn’t my face ring a bell? How long will you feign blindness?"

Wensidia’s frantic outburst tugged at the heart. Lunette felt a flicker of doubt—but steadied herself instantly.

"Lunette. Answer me." Her voice cracked. "Why avoid me? You’ve always known."

"...We can’t go back."

Lunette’s words were glacial, sharp as Arctic ice.

"It ended long ago. The moment she died."

"*Shut up!*" Wensidia shrieked, losing all restraint.

"I’ve suffered too! Not just you! I’m hurting—so why treat me like this?"

She lunged forward, pinning Lunette’s shoulders against the wall, eyes blazing.

Yet Lunette’s gaze remained unmoved. She didn’t even struggle.

"When I learned you’d entered Rockefeller Academy... I was overjoyed. Ecstatic. You were the freshman representative—I’d given up hope of ever seeing you again after all these years."

Gripping Lunette’s shoulders, Wensidia ranted on.

"But you acted like a stranger. Why? I’m in agony! Scold me, curse me—I’d take anything over being ignored!"

Lunette stayed silent, letting her pour out her heart.

Wensidia was, after all, just an eighteen-year-old girl. Expecting adult restraint was impossible.

"...Lunette. Forgive me. Please. I never meant to—"

Tears spilled over. They fell drop by drop, streaking her face as sobs wracked her small frame.

Most would’ve relented. Lunette’s expression stayed flat.

"Sorry."

Lunette pushed her away.

"I’m not that naive girl anymore. I have strength now. I’ll protect the friends who matter."

Her eyes had changed. They no longer saw only Wensidia. They saw further.

Further—to another world. To a girl utterly unlike Wensidia.

"It’s better this way. For both of us."

Lunette stepped back slowly.

*No. Don’t go...*

Wensidia reached out desperately.

"Don’t... please don’t—"

"Wendy."

The name slipped out—a ghost from years past.

"Don’t leave me, Lunette!"

Her first friend had chosen to walk away.

Perhaps Wensidia deserved this. But... Lunette didn’t want it either. Reality had stripped her of childish dreams. She knew raw will alone couldn’t fix a broken world.

***BOOM!***

A deafening blast shook the palace walls. Shouts erupted outside.

Lunette’s blood ran cold. She slammed the door open and sprinted out.