Nine years after uncovering her father's sick secret—and that of the castle—Irene had distanced herself even further from her duties as a princess.
They kept trying to make her take charge of the kingdom, but she either refused outright or ran away, hiding it all behind the label of a "troubled girl." To everyone else, she was nothing more than a bratty fifteen-year-old.
"Skipped class again, Princess?" a firm, feminine voice spoke from behind her.
Irene closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"I already told you not to call me princess, Rynelle."
"It's just a reminder. I understand how you feel, but I want you to accept the role someday." Rynelle sat down beside her.
Now, at fifteen human years of age, Rynelle wore a black military uniform along with her hat. Her expression was far more serious than when she had been a child, though she had grown into the unique elven traits she possessed—the beauty of her face.
When silence settled between them, Rynelle decided to take the initiative and spoke:
"You know slavery is very common in our world, and it stopped being taboo a long time ago. Beyond what's morally right, there's no law that makes it illegal. Does it still bother you, Irene?"
"I have to see it every single day… It's uncomfortable having to smile at him or hug him, knowing what he does beneath the castle."
Rynelle glanced at her from the side with a look that seemed cold and indifferent, though it was simply her seriousness. Irene continued:
"I don't want to take on the role of princess. I've been thinking about it for a while… and I think I'm going to leave the castle."
"And go where? There are thousands of soldiers who would search for you and drag you back."
"Anywhere… Ever since I was little, I've wanted to travel and see all those landscapes I read about in books. What's the point of having my whole life settled if I'm condemned to spend it in a single place? I want to travel. I want to explore the world."
Rynelle stared ahead and replied:
"Wherever you go, I will follow you, Princess."
"Rynelle," Irene said, annoyed.
"Sorry. Then… wherever you go, I'll follow you, Irene."
Irene smiled and suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Rynelle's neck.
"That's why you're my best friend!"
"D-don't cling to me so much."
Irene's face was flushed with happiness. Rynelle, on the other hand, kept hers quietly to herself. Her expression remained the same as always—calm and imperturbable.
◇◆◇
Inside her room, Irene had just finished bathing and stood naked in front of the mirror. Her body had developed beautifully and was slowly beginning to resemble her mother's imposing figure.
She cupped her healthy breasts and spoke proudly:
"For a woman with the mind of someone in her forties, having such a young, beautiful body that's still growing is the best gift I could have ever received. I don't feel any regret anymore about leaving that boring old life behind."
She turned around and swayed her pink tail, observing her body from behind.
"This looks good too. A mix of cuteness and seduction. It's very flirtatious and totally fits my old fetishes. Well… I still have them, but for now I'll respect this body until I'm of age."
An image surfaced in her memories: the man who murdered her. Then her father, surrounded by his slaves. She lowered her gaze, her good mood fading, and murmured while staring at the floor:
"Men… are scary."
She looked at her right hand and used her left to touch her crotch.
'I wonder if being with a man still excites me.'
Her relaxed, melancholic eyelids drifted as she stared into nothingness. She spent several minutes lost in thought until the sound of a knock drew her attention.
"Irene, may I come in?"
Hearing Rynelle's voice, Irene relaxed and answered:
"If it's just you, then yes—you can come in."
"Excuse me."
Rynelle opened the door and, as soon as she stepped inside, stopped in her tracks. She was momentarily surprised by the sight of Irene, but quickly ignored it and closed the door behind her. She was already used to seeing her naked.
"I already told you to close the windows when you do this," Rynelle said as she walked across the room toward the curtains.
"But I'm on the third floor; no one can see me here."
"It doesn't matter. You need to be discreet. You're the princess of the Kingdom of Aoolis—anyone would do the impossible just to see you naked."
Those words struck her mind like a spike. Her heart raced. Irene placed a hand on her chest to feel her heartbeat and thought:
'Why does this make my heart race?'
As Rynelle closed the curtains, Irene watched her. In a way, the protective gesture felt endearing—especially in such a vulnerable moment. Guided by her conflicted feelings, she asked:
"Um… Rynelle, w-what do you think about my body?"
"Um? I've told you before—you have the beauty of a grown woman. A body anyone would envy."
"I know, but… I meant something else. Like, um… d-do you like it?"
"You mean if I like your body?" Rynelle asked, confused.
"N-no, never mind! Haha… forget I said anything, I was just joking."
"Umm?" Rynelle murmured, slightly raising an eyebrow. She looked genuinely confused.
Irene laughed nervously and began getting dressed, hurriedly covering her waist and torso first.
'What's wrong with me? That's a completely normal question between women. I used to do that all the time with my friends—even let them touch my breasts out of curiosity. I never doubted my heterosexuality, not even once. I'm just vulnerable… even though I'm not on my period.'
She glanced at Rynelle from the corner of her eye. Rynelle stood in profile, staring out the windows with her usual cold, focused expression. Her beautiful, alluring features made Irene's cheeks flush. Her blood warmed, and before she realized it, she couldn't stop staring. Her tail even swayed from side to side.
Turning her gaze forward as she put on her blouse, she thought:
'It's just my five minutes of vulnerability. Of course I don't like women…'
◇◆◇
Four months passed from that day, and winter finally arrived. The entire Kingdom of Aoolis was blanketed in snow. Irene walked through her garden with a book of continental landscapes in her hands—it was the fiftieth book she had read on the subject.
She was well bundled up, so walking as she usually did posed no problem. However, on that particular day, she heard a woman's groan near one of the castle walls.
Curious—and having also heard a loud impact—Irene approached and pushed aside the bushes to look ahead. Her eyes widened when she saw an older woman lying on the ground, scratched and barely clothed.
She was covered in blood and trembling from the cold, her fingers stiff and clenched against the snow. The ash-gray-haired woman slowly opened one trembling eye and looked at Irene. Her crimson pupils were so intense that they were visible even in the dim light.
Irene couldn't even react to what she was seeing when a third presence swiftly appeared between them.
"Princess, stay back!"
"R-Rynelle?"
"What are you? A slave? Answer me."
The severity in Rynelle's voice was something Irene had never heard before. Instinctively, she moved behind her and stared at the body lying on the ground.
The ash-haired woman barely managed to stay conscious before collapsing from exhaustion.