Sunlight streamed through Yoei’s window, painting her pale skin with a gentle shade of orange warmth.

  She stirred awake, not knowing how long her fragile body had surrendered to sleep.

  For a fleeting moment, everything felt peaceful. The rain had ceased, birdsong drifted in from outside, and her room felt warmer than before.

  She y still, staring bnkly at the droplets clinging to her windowpane.

  “…It feels so foreign,” Yoei whispered into her pillow.

  Slowly, she pushed herself up, gncing around the room. No one was there. Whoever had held her so tenderly before had already gone.

  But what startled her most was the change she noticed—her clothes were dry. Someone had changed her while she was unconscious. But who?

  Even more surprising were her fingers—previously broken, now showing signs of mending. Only faint bruises remained on her skin.

  She flexed her fingers like a puppet freed from its strings, weightless, unrestricted.

  Suddenly, her thoughts snapped back to Vaelion.

  Was he safe? Was he still unconscious? Did Mira dev—

  Shaking the thought away, she sprang out of bed. Like a moth drawn to fme, her clumsy step caught the leg of the table at the center of the room, sending a jolt of pain through her shin.

  There was no time to compin. She rushed to the door and swung it open—

  “Lady Yoei??” Vaelion’s startled voice met her.

  Both froze, gazing at one another, though his face remained hidden beneath the steel of his armor.

  Yoei’s trembling hand reached out, brushing against his breastpte with such caution, as though the iron itself might shatter like fragile gss.

  “You… you haven’t turned into a spirit, have you?” she asked earnestly.

  Vaelion couldn’t help it—a small chuckle slipped out at her innocent, blunt question.

  But the moment ended as quickly as it came. His amusement vanished when he noticed her eyes glistening, her lips sealed tight as if keeping back words too painful to speak.

  Without a second thought, Vaelion dropped to one knee before her. He csped his right arm to his chest, bowing his head low.

  “Forgive me, Lady Yoei. For being so inept at reading the moment, and for ughing at your question…” his voice carried the weight of guilt, fearful he had hurt her with his careless reaction.

  Yoei froze, startled by the sudden shift in the air. Her hands filed restlessly, her lips parted as though searching desperately for the right words.

  From the far end of the corridor, Suna emerged, his footsteps echoing faintly against the stone walls. He walked steadily, his gaze sharp and his expression as unreadable as ever.

  For a brief moment, he paused, his cold eyes lingering on the two of them. Without a word, he tilted his head to the side—an unspoken command for Yoei to follow.

  Yoei turned her face away, refusing to meet his gaze.

  Then his voice, sharp and cutting, filled the hall.

  “Yoei Bougainvillea!”

  The sound of her full name being called struck her chest like a hammer. Her heart pounded violently, and Vaelion immediately rose to his feet, his posture brimming with vigince.

  Not wanting to bring the entire pace crumbling into chaos, Yoei gave in. Quietly, she walked past Vaelion and went to Suna’s side.

  Yet this time, her submission was different. As they walked down the corridor together, Yoei’s every step carried a subtle defiance. She kept a slight distance from him, though their footsteps still fell in perfect rhythm.

  Every so often, Suna gnced back at her from over his shoulder, his breath heavy before he finally spoke.

  “Tell me, Yoei. When you look at me, is it hatred I see?” His tone was ft, almost mechanical, as if the question itself was meaningless.

  Yoei said nothing. She only turned her face even further away.

  Suddenly, Suna stopped. Not from anger—but because something felt off. Something unseen was watching them.

  His eyes darted upward, to the side, then behind. The hair on his neck bristled. A strange sensation, foreign even to him, gnawed at the back of his mind.

  “Why did we stop?” Yoei’s voice came, indifferent, her face still turned from his.

  Forcing the unease down, Suna stepped closer to her.

  “You should have answered me earlier, Yoei,” he said, his tone now edged with irritation at her disobedience.

  “You know what it means, when you ignore an order, don’t you?”

  Yoei’s lips trembled before she finally spoke, her voice colored with exhaustion and faint bitterness.

  “…It only means I’ll feel pain again. That’s all.”

  “What a fool I am… trying to speak when your silence said enough.” Suna muttered under his breath and resumed his steps down the long corridor.

  All the while, his sharp eyes kept scanning the shadows, searching for something unseen. Sweat dampened his palms.

  “Mira, stop toying with me!” his voice thundered, echoing down the hall. But only silence answered.

  Then—crash!

  A vase behind them shattered without warning, shards scattering across the polished floor.

  Yoei flinched. Unease pulled her closer to Suna, her trembling hand instinctively finding his wrist.

  The silence that followed was suffocating, so deep that they could hear each other’s heartbeats hammering in their chests. Still—no answer.

  And then, with a blink—crash! Another vase exploded, followed by the entire corridor warping, twisting unnaturally as though space itself was being bent by some cruel game.

  Panic fshed across Suna’s face. He seized Yoei’s hand tighter and ran. The faster they fled, the more violent the distortions grew—the walls bending, the floors shifting beneath their feet.

  They turned a corner, only to collide with someone. Papers flew everywhere, scattering like snow.

  It was Mira.

  Both stumbled, but Yoei managed to sidestep just in time. Mira’s gre could have frozen fire.

  “You idiot! I had just organized these papers according to their criteria!” she snapped, fury burning in her amber eyes.

  Before Suna could expin, her fist struck faster than words. The blow nded squarely across his face, sending him crashing to the side.

  “A pitiful king… running around like a child,” she added coldly, already kneeling to collect her scattered papers.

  Yoei crouched to help, her hand stinging with fresh marks left by Suna’s grip during their frantic sprint. She said nothing, though the pain spoke enough.

  Mira’s sharp gaze found her. “Yoei. Tell me, why was your brother running through the pace like this?”

  Her amber eyes bored into Yoei’s crimson ones, sharp, accusing. She detested rule-breaking—no matter how small.

  Yoei stammered, breath unsteady.

  “We… we felt something strange. Vases started shattering one by one.. then Suna pulled me and ran.”

  Her trembling hand, bruised and raw, was proof of his panic.

  Mira’s eyes flicked toward Suna, who was still wiping blood from his mouth.

  “Yoei. You saw the corridor twist too, didn’t you?” Suna pressed, his voice heavy with desperation.

  But Yoei shook her head. A small gesture, yet enough to say she hadn’t seen what he had.

  Mira’s brow furrowed. Without another word, she strode down the hall to see for herself. But what awaited her was nothing unusual. The corridor stretched normal and pristine. Only a few shattered vases littered the ground.

  She turned back, her expression cold as ice.

  “It seems it isn’t the corridor that’s twisted, Suna. It’s your logic.”

  No smirk, no pyfulness. Just blunt disdain. She returned to gathering her papers, leaving him stewing in disbelief.

  Suna, his jaw tight, rose unsteadily and stormed toward the corridor to see for himself. And indeed… everything appeared normal. Just broken vases. Nothing more.

  “Yoei, don’t lie to me—”

  As Suna’s gaze fell upon the girl, Yoei was already hiding behind Mira, peeking out with eyes full of hatred.

  Suna’s patience had reached its limit; he strode straight toward Yoei’s hiding spot.

  Before he could even touch Yoei’s hand, Mira had already stopped him with her own.

  “You’re not thinking straight, Suna. Control yourself—”

  “It’s you who’s never thought straight! Mira, you’re worse than me. You’re insane, heartless, and your hands are far more drenched in blood than mine!” Suna shouted right in front of her face.

  Mira’s gaze dropped, her hair veiling her expression—no one could tell what she felt in that moment.

  Not yet satisfied with his rage, Suna roughly shook Mira’s shoulders.

  “Don’t you realize, Mira?! Everything was fine until you were born and cursed our mother!” Suna’s fury burst out, veins straining across his forehead.

  Mira’s breath hitched as the bitter tragedy resurfaced, after twenty long years of being buried away.

  Suddenly, Suna seized Yoei’s arm and dragged her off, ignoring his sister’s cries, leaving Mira frozen in pce.

  He pulled Yoei down to the lowest floor of the castle—the darkest, cruelest pce in all of Aurathis. Torture devices lined the walls, sharp chains dangled menacingly from the ceiling of that underground dungeon.

  They arrived at a vast, pitch-bck chamber with not a single ray of light. Yoei was shoved inside, her whimpers ignored, and Suna smmed the iron door shut.

  His hand pressed against the door—

  “Porta Damnare, Obstricta Manere!” Suna chanted sharply, and the iron door immediately reacted, glowing with strange crimson symbols.

  “Keep crying, my little flower. We’ll meet again when King Rowan comes to visit us,” he whispered to the door, a satisfied smile etched on his face.

  Suna’s footsteps faded further away as Yoei pounded the sealed door again and again, her strength draining fast.

  “Please.. someone, anyone.. help me…” Yoei whimpered, her fists weakening.

  “I’m scared of the dark…”

  The chamber fell silent once more, just as it had the st time it was used. Whatever the darkness concealed within its vastness remained unknown.

  And the quieter the room became, the clearer the haunting noises rang out: chains clinking, the faint breath of someone dying, rats scurrying through the void. She cmped her hands tightly over her ears, desperate to block out everything she heard. A nightmare for anyone doomed to end up as Yoei had now.