At midnight, Ett slipped quietly from her chamber and returned to her study, lighting the oil lamp and setting about the piles of records that had accumulated. Thankfully, not many required immediate attention.
The lamp burned steadily through the night, its golden glow chasing the shadows across the walls. Outside, the distant cry of a hawk echoed in the dark.
Caw. Caw.
What the? A hawk in this time?
"Go away."
She looked at the window only to see the bird tilting at her before it flew away.
"Seriously, that's creepy."
"Excellent," Ett whispered to herself, a small smile curving her lips. Her experiment had improved.
Before, half an inch of blood on her handkerchief would send her sprawling into unconsciousness. Tonight, she had extended the threshold to nearly a full centimeter. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. She repeated the exercise a few more times, testing her limits carefully.
"This risk is acceptable," she muttered. Who better to experiment on than one's own body? It would not die tonight. Not yet.
She had discovered she could endure an hour or two with only three inches of blood—the length of her slender middle finger so long as she prevented her mind from wandering and avoided any stressful thought. Most often, that still failed. Her attention strayed, and she fainted again.
What to do? Her ADHD often sabotaged her focus.
As a solution, she allowed herself short rests thirty minutes, maybe an hour before returning to her work. The problem was, she was naturally lazy. Fifteen minutes could stretch into thirty, thirty into an hour, an hour into three, even a whole day if left unchecked. Unlike when she had a master, there was no one to enforce discipline. Hunger alone was not enough.
"Come to think of it, I'm running out of handkerchiefs," she muttered, sighing.
Just as she reached for another handful of records, a rustle drew her attention.
"Huh? Was that a gasp?" She rose abruptly, eyes darting toward the door.
Did something pass by?
Ett's gaze caught a fleeting shadow at the edge of her vision, much like the aggravating cockroaches that occasionally scuttled through her quarters.
Almost every time she sensed them, they appeared.
"…Probably my imagination," she murmured after a few seconds, settling back into her chair. The maids had already cleared the room of pests, and whatever herbs they used seemed sufficient.
Still… do cockroaches gasp so stealthily?
"No." Ett swore under her breath, rising and grabbing the lamp. She opened the door.
The corridor lay empty, suffused with the cold, oppressive silence of midnight.
"Must be some maid," she reasoned. Perhaps someone had passed by quietly, not wishing to disturb her or alert the physician that she was still awake.
Satisfied, Ett returned to her seat and continued her work, noting each fainting incident and measuring the duration of her resistance.
By the time civil dawn approached, she stirred from a restless sleep.
"Oh my," she murmured, stretching with effort. She had slept for over two hours. The mantra she had whispered to herself had helped somewhat, but her body still felt heavy, her legs weak and unresponsive.
She could not complain. This body had never known proper rest in its childhood. Everything demanded sacrifice, and sleep was a luxury she could afford to forego for now. Each faint, each experiment, each minor success was progress, however small.
"Tsk. Now I remember the ball," she muttered, recalling her earlier schemes.
She had wished to monitor potential candidates for Guren. Frivolity would wait.
"Ugh, no." Ett shook her head. She must not act as Cupid, not when the smell of scheming from these documents was so thick. Calm, focus, control.
She inhaled and exhaled deeply, coughing suddenly.
"Sneezing? Blood, do you want another hole to free yourself?" She scolded herself. The handkerchiefs stuffed in her nostrils had been misplaced, a small error that invited disaster.
"Where was I?" she muttered, refocusing. Another noble from the Ostenian
Duchy had submitted a proposal.
Trash. Even trash must be disposed of with care. Ett jotted down the name and pushed the parchment aside, moving on to the next.
***
Elsewhere, the person Ett sought remained wide awake in his chamber.
It was none other than Lativ, the curious one.
Lativ drew his hands back from his mouth, heart hammering. That had been far too close.
He had finally emerged from the confinement where Butler Xiwen had instructed him in his duties. As such, he wanted to take a stroll no matter what wing it is. Maybe in fear of getting caught or not, he just walked where his feet lead him to with nothing in mind.
"V-Verdian…" Lativ's voice cracked before he could stop it.
The girl bore the same hair, and eye color as His Majesty, yet her presence was entirely unlike anything he head ever seen. His chest tightened, sweat slicking his palms. He knew exactly the peril of his situation.
If words got out, he's dead. His entire family would die. There is no more Lativ, no more of their bloodline.
This is madness.
He had stumbled into a secret no one knew but those that live in this palace. No wonder…no wonder Butler Xiwen emphasize that he should only take the route he had mentioned and to always be careful.
Well…
"Ahhh bullocks!"
If her mother knew he can curse, "Ugh."
"What am I to do? What am I to do?"
He can't sleep.
He got up and kneeled on the floor.
Butler Xiwen indeed emphasize to not approach the opposite wing. He thought he was too far to go to it! Ahhhh.
Lativ cursed himself silently.
Foolish! So foolish! Why did you think it was clever to roam the palace under moonlight driven by curiosity? Her mother did say his stubbornness can get him killed one day. Is this that day? Obedience had its value, yet he had ignored it.
"This is..terrible." The words trembled from his lips.
He can't help but recalled what he had seen.
At that time, as he strained to familiarize himself with his surroundings, his gaze fell upon the opposite wing, shrouded in shadow, filled with whispered mystery even high officials dared not touch. No one patrolled, all slept. Perfect.
The moon itself seemed to light a path, casting silver across the floorboards, and through the expansive windows.
And then he saw it: a faint, steady glow from a study room.
Lativ's heart stuttered. Could this be one of the Emperor's secret sanctums, still beyond his usefulness to see?
He crept closer, each step measured, every breath shallow. Then…
He saw her.
A girl, small and delicate, her long hair falling in a chaotic veil across her face, sat at a table burdened with papers. She wrote with quiet intensity, completely absorbed. Two handkerchiefs tucked into her nostrils yet it did not lessen her focus.
He can't help but smile yet at the same time realization dawned him. When she slightly looked up and the light caught her face…
Lativ froze.
His limbs felt nailed to the floor. His chest heaved, and for a moment, his world vanished, leaving only her.
Her head that was lifted slightly, as if she sensed his gaze. Panic clawed him. He lunged behind the curtain, pressing himself against the wall, breath caught in his throat.
Please do not come. Please do not come.
From his hiding place, he saw him opened the door wide and this time he saw her fully. A second gasp nearly escaped his lips, but he clamped his hand over his mouth.
Ethereal.
The word came unbidden.
Never mind the handkerchiefs dangling in the holes of her nose, she was very lovely to the point no words could describe her. Still, the closest is she's fragile, impossible, utterly captivating. His pulse thundered in his ears. Lativ traced the sharp line of her jaw, the way her brow furrowed looking around, the subtle tilt of her lips. Every movement she does Lativ feels he could sing of his beauty and write her a poem.
In his life, he felt weightless yet rooted, lightheaded yet entirely consumed. The faint lamplight pooled around her, yet it could not illuminate the force she exuded, the grave move of her presence.
The door eventually closed, and the light vanished with her retreat.
And before Lativ knows it, he was back to his chamber.
Yet his heart, oh his heart.
Lativ gritted his teeth as he tightly gripped his clothes feeling his betraying heart. Yes, it would not obey reason.
It raced like never before, faster than any drill or sparing match, each beat echoing through his chest, as though war had come to claim him. Love war. That's it.
His stomach fluttered with a strange, undefinable sensation. His vision narrowed, the edges of the world blurred until all he could see, all he could feel was her.
Oh boy.
This must be what fools in tavers, his noble friends call love at first sight.
He went back, tumbled on his bed, flailing, turning over and over.
Every though of her set his mind ablaze, the tilt of her head, the focus of his eyes, the faint defiance in her posture, etched itself into him. He had laughed when his friends spoke of such things, nor when his father told him about how he fell at first sight for his mother.
He snickered then of their foolish hearts, and now the mockery was his alone. A sharp sense of irony.
"…"
Finally, he bolted again, upright and rushing to the window, the chill of the night biting his fingers as he pressed his palms to his chest, trying to hold the wild, erratic beat of his heart.
"That girl…she must be the princess," he whispered, voice trembling.
Would her love for her forever remain if his head would be severed first?
The hidden princess, he concluded. The hidden princess, a single glance from her could freeze a man's blood, yet here he stood…utterly undone.
"Oh Father," he breathed into the night, "forgive your reckless son. I have fallen into a crypt far greater than I imagined."
And in a whisper, softer, as if speaking to a distant memory of home, "Mother, I caught a terrible cold this time."
I am sorry, it seems I won't be able to look at any ladies anymore.
The air felt thick, the world small and intimate int he quiet of his chamber. He knew he would never forget this night, never forget the way her hair fall across her face, never forget the strange, palpitating terror that had claimed him entirely.
"Forgive me, for I have fallen,
My family, whom I hold most dear,
I've become irredeemable in the Adiand's moonlight."