Stella held the princess's gaze.
It lasted no more than a second, yet it felt longer.
Elmyria von Eleanor was smiling.
That smile.
Perfectly shaped. Perfectly timed. Light enough to seem harmless yet sharp enough to feel deliberate. The kind of smile Stella had always hated.
Before she could react, a soft cough echoed beside her.
Stella flinched.
Her father.
Count Russell Tallcrag had already inclined his head, his posture flawless, his expression neutral but firm.
Stella understood the warning immediately.
She lowered her head.
"We greet His Highness the Crown Prince and Her Royal Highness the Princess," Russell said calmly.
"Uncle, there's no need for such ceremony," Gram von Eleanor replied at once, his tone warm and confident. "How have you been?"
Russell smiled.
"If that is your wish, then please, follow me."
Gram turned slightly toward his sister.
"Elmyria, why don't you go speak with Stella while we talk?"
Elmyria nodded.
"As you wish, brother."
She turned toward Stella, her smile never wavering.
"You may lead the way, Lady Tallcrag."
Stella forced herself not to grimace.
"This way, Princess."
The servants of House Tallcrag kept their heads bowed, but several exchanged quick glances. The contrast between the two young women, one a perfect image of royal grace, the other visibly stiff with restrained irritation, was impossible to miss.
Stella opened the door to her room and stepped inside.
Elmyria stopped at the threshold.
"May I come in?"
That did it.
Stella turned around sharply.
"What is wrong with you today?" she snapped. "Have you finally lost your mind?"
Elmyria didn't answer.
She simply kept smiling.
That infuriating smile, gentle, empty, and faintly mocking. The kind that looked pleasant but revealed absolutely nothing. It reminded Stella of a porcelain mask: pretty, fragile, and completely false.
Elmyria stepped inside without waiting for permission and closed the door behind her.
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, Lady Tallcrag."
Still smiling.
Stella clenched her fists.
"Stop pretending. Drop the polite act and tell me what you want, you hypocrite."
Elmyria tilted her head slightly.
"Don't you think you're exaggerating?" she asked calmly. "Careful. You might get yourself killed talking like that."
Still smiling.
Stella scoffed.
"There it is. That's the princess I know."
"I still don't understand what you're talking about, Lady Tallcrag."
Stella let out a long breath and turned away.
"I give up. You haven't changed at all. Always hiding everything behind that annoying smile."
For a brief moment, so brief it could almost be imagined, the smile wavered.
Just a fraction.
But it was there.
They had known each other since childhood.
The first time Stella had met Elmyria was during a grand banquet hosted by House Tallcrag. Elmyria had disappeared mid-event, sending the palace into quiet panic.
Stella had been the one sent to find her.
She had found Elmyria in the kitchen.
Eating.
Complaining loudly.
Insulting the royal family with astonishing creativity, especially her brother, whom she called a "smiling manipulative bastard."
When Elmyria realized she had been caught, she had frozen.
Stella had only shrugged.
"Relax. I won't tell."
That was how their friendship began.
Back then, Elmyria never hid who she was around Stella. She complained, laughed, cursed, dropped the act entirely.
Which was why this—this perfect princess performance—was driving Stella insane.
Elsewhere in the residence, Count Russell Tallcrag and Gram von Eleanor sat across from one another.
"You seem well," Gram said.
"I am," Russell replied. "And you?"
"Busy," Gram admitted. "As usual."
He paused, then added, "I've heard of Stella's progress. Fourth circle at her age is impressive."
Russell inclined his head modestly.
"She works hard."
"But still," Gram continued, "your daughter is exceptional."
Russell allowed himself a small smile.
"The princess's progress is just as remarkable. Nearly reaching the fifth circle already."
Formalities exchanged, Gram leaned back slightly and removed his glasses.
"My father sent me," he said more seriously. "To thank you for your efforts on behalf of the kingdom."
"It is an honor," Russell replied.
"And," Gram continued, "to ask about the investigation."
"Sylver is currently in the Skybreak Chain," Russell answered. "He is still gathering information."
Gram's expression sharpened.
"What's been happening in the kingdom lately is troubling," he said. "You won't tell me you've learned nothing."
"That's not the case," Russell replied calmly. "According to Sylver's latest reports, a group of bandits known as the Cannibals has been unusually active these past months."
"Really."
"Yes. And then suddenly, nothing. No signs. No activity."
Gram frowned.
"I don't think that compares to what's truly happening," he said. "Before coming here, I met with the priests of the Church of Light. One of their paladins in training has been missing for days. His body was found during an investigation."
Russell's eyes narrowed slightly.
"He was decapitated."
Silence stretched between them.
"These events are connected," Gram said quietly. "We need to uncover the truth."
"I understand," Russell replied. "I'll have my people accelerate the investigation."
"Thank you, Uncle."
Back in Stella's room, Elmyria listened quietly as Stella recounted her recent missions.
"So that's what happened," Elmyria said.
"Yes," Stella replied. "And most of it has to remain confidential. The Mercenary Association demanded it."
"Why?"
"They said the missions were commissioned by people who prefer to stay in the shadows."
She hesitated, then added, "Even my father doesn't know the details of the missions I took without Sylver."
Elmyria nodded.
"You mentioned Aren," she said. "What is he like?"
Stella snorted.
"Provocative. Rude. Vulgar—like you. And he never does anything that doesn't benefit him."
Elmyria smiled faintly.
"He sounds… interesting."
Stella stared at her.
"I think you should go to a hospital."
Elmyria laughed softly this time, genuinely.
Months passed.
Aren kept moving.
He took simple missions. Escorts. Deliveries. Clean-ups that barely paid but kept him active. He refused to stay at the Tallcrag secondary residence after Stella left. He didn't want to owe anyone anything.
Between missions, he went to the library.
Again and again.
Searching for ways to use mana.
Searching for anything.
He failed.
Repeatedly.
But he didn't stop.
Even as his body protested, even as frustration gnawed at him, he kept acting. Kept fighting. Kept moving forward.
Until one day, he realized there was only one month left before the Academy entrance exam.
And he was still searching.