“Your Highness, Princess, who is this… gentleman?”
“Calm down, Dora.”
Etern patted Dora’s arm with her small hand. It was both an amusing and strange sight—like an adult child comforting a child-like adult.
“This gentleman is…”
She glanced cautiously at Ziggkart.
If she told Dora the truth, there was a real chance she might faint. But even if she did, what could be done about it?
“He’s the Young Lord from the Grand Duchy of Randster. You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?”
Dora’s face turned as pale as a snowman. Even without using her ability, Etern could practically read her thoughts—making her feel a bit guilty.
“Dora, could you set up a tea table on the balcony? We have some things to discuss.”
“What? Oh… yes, Your Highness.”
As Dora quickly left, Etern guided Ziggkart to the balcony.
Having focused so much on him, she only now noticed how uncomfortably bright the sunlight was.
“Take a seat over there.”
After offering him a chair, she sat across from him with a deep sigh—like a laborer finishing a long day’s work.
But Ziggkart didn’t sit immediately. Instead, he slowly inspected the balcony.
His crimson eyes carefully took in the intricately decorated railing, the tiled floor, the crystal ornaments hanging from the supporting wall, and the bells swaying gently in the breeze.
“It’s beautifully decorated.”
Etern’s eyes widened. Pressing her soft, chubby cheeks with her palms, she felt her heart momentarily sink.
So, he’s capable of saying such things too…
Watching Ziggkart admire the decorations, she felt an inexplicable tightness in her chest.
In her past life, the Ziggkart she had known was like a shadow devoid of color.
He never marveled at beauty, nor did he grieve over ugliness. He seemed incapable of joy or sorrow—like a stone submerged in a swamp, unresponsive to everything.
Etern had never known him well enough to claim she understood him completely. But seeing him now, genuinely admiring the balcony and calling it beautiful, felt oddly unfamiliar.
“I like pretty things.”
At her words, Ziggkart, who had been gently stroking a flower petal, turned to look at her.
For a brief moment, the crimson eyes that usually held an indifferent air softened with something else—something almost warm.
Surprised by the unexpected gaze, Etern’s ears burned slightly red. She swung her legs as if preparing to get up.
“If you like the flowers, you can take a few with you later. I’ll give them to you as a gift.”
“No, it’s fine. They’ll wilt on the way.”
Surprisingly, Ziggkart dismissed the offer with indifference. He finally took his seat and placed his bag on the ground.
As the silence stretched, an awkward tension settled in. Just as Etern began to feel uneasy, Dora and a maid entered the balcony, saving her from the discomfort.
The sweet, tangy scent of tea and honey-glazed pie filled the air. Etern waited until the maid and Dora stepped back before offering Ziggkart a cup.
“Please have some tea, Young Lord. Dora, you don’t need to come back until I call for you. And please close the door.”
“Your Highness, that’s—”
“Do as I say, Dora. Don’t worry, nothing will happen.”
Dora blinked twice, clearly unconvinced, but relented. Still, as she pulled the door shut, she left a tiny gap—just enough for a finger to slip through.
“Truly a flower in a greenhouse.”
At Ziggkart’s amused remark, Etern pursed her lips, resisting the urge to snap back. Instead, she let out a small, derisive laugh.
“Of course. I am the Empire’s one and only princess.”
“I’m also the Grand Duchy’s sole heir, yet here I am, having traveled all this way alone.”
So he’s implying he’s not a greenhouse flower?
Etern let out a small, knowing chuckle.
“You must have begged and begged until they finally gave in.”
“Is that what you think? If you begged and begged your father, would he let you travel alone to the Grand Duchy?”
Etern narrowed her eyes, unimpressed, and popped a piece of pie into her mouth.
“Are you saying the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess just waved you off with a ‘Take care, and have a nice trip!’ when you told them you wanted to come here alone?”
Swallowing her bite, she added dryly,
“It’s not like you were just going to the marketplace outside the castle.”
“Of course not. I simply snuck out.”
The moment the words left his mouth, Etern, who had been sipping her tea, nearly spat it out.
“What did you just say?!”
“You said it yourself. It’s not like they’d just let me go, so I snuck out.”
“You snuck out?! Are you out of your mind?!”
He’s crazier than I thought!
Etern’s head spun as dizziness overtook her.
Even if sneaking out had been his plan, if the Grand Duchy decided to make an issue out of it, it could trigger a diplomatic disaster.
And if that happens, Father will start a war without hesitation!
Oh no! What was he thinking?
How do I send him back? Should I dispatch a fast messenger to the Grand Duchy?
“I can guess what you’re thinking, but at least listen to what I have to say first.”
Etern clenched her jaw.
“If I waste time listening to you and a war breaks out, who’s going to take responsibility for that?”
Ziggkart studied her in silence, as if trying to determine whether she was serious.
“Why would a war break out? At worst, I’ll just get scolded. It’s not like your father is holding me hostage.”
“That’s not something you can guarantee…”
“Just listen to me. There’s something more important.”
Etern narrowed her eyes.
“And what’s that?”
Ziggkart’s fingers stilled against the porcelain cup. The wind whispered between them, carrying the weight of something unspoken.
Then, he dropped a bombshell.
“What if I told you I know how to wake your mother?”
Etern’s breath caught.
For a moment, she thought she had misheard him. But Ziggkart’s face—serious, unwavering—held not a trace of deceit.
“…What did you just say?”
“Your mother. The Empress of Sidernell. She’s been asleep for years and hasn’t woken up.”
Her throat tightened.
“How do you…”
She stopped herself. Of course he would know.
The Empire’s beloved Empress, confined to her chambers, sleeping endlessly without an apparent illness—it was a story whispered across continents. It would have been stranger if he hadn’t heard.
Etern took a deep breath, steadying herself.
“…Mother isn’t sick. If you’re trying to convince me you know some kind of treatment—”
“I never said anything about treating her.”
Ziggkart’s crimson eyes locked onto hers.
“I said I know how to wake her. The key is in waking. You, of all people, should understand what I mean.”
Etern froze.
The conviction in his voice sent a chill down her spine.
For the first time since her regression, she was completely speechless.
And yet, alongside her disbelief, something sharp and painful bloomed inside her—frustration.
Every single day, she lived under the weight of that fear. That desperation. If her mother didn’t wake up soon, the Empire would inevitably drown in its own bloodshed.
One magician had already refused to help. And deep down, she suspected that any others would say the same.
She had no options left. No time left.
And now, before her, was an eight-year-old boy claiming he knew the answer.
It was absurd.
But—
Even if this was nothing more than the naïve ramblings of a child, even if it turned out to be meaningless—
It was worth hearing him out.
Etern swallowed hard. Her voice, though steady, carried the weight of something fragile.
“Can you take responsibility for your words?”
