Chapter 11
As Glossa’s attitude suddenly cooled, the anger Skene had been bristling with gradually subsided as well.
“You know, the one you treasure so much. Aren’t you going to go look for it this summer?”
“What are you talking about? You know I’ve never missed it once. I was actually planning to go soon. I was just waiting for the chance to suggest we go together to that disgusting prince.”
Skene went on rambling, then suddenly her eyes flashed and she shouted,
“Don’t tell me you’re asking to borrow it? Don’t even dream of it! That one is mine. Father gave it to me as a gift for my birthday!”
“Don’t worry. I know very well how precious it is to you. I only came to tell you that someone had the nerve to step into what belongs to you.”
Step into the lake. No one was allowed to enter that place without her permission. It was an unspoken taboo known throughout the palace.
“Who is it?”
Her voice turned sharp, unlike her usual self. If it were a maid, she would have had her tongue torn out and her eyes gouged. If a male servant, she would have had him castrated and thrown out. Seething, Skene snapped,
“Who is it?! A maid? A servant? Those insolent—!”
“Neither a maid nor a servant, Skene. Lord Hippolytus and…”
At the name Hippolytus, Skene’s eyes widened. The fury that had been rising twisted into disgust. Glossa, who had been dragging out her words, spoke a name Skene had never expected.
“Ezra.”
“…Ezra? That child who lives in the stone tower?”
“Yes. Those two. Not only did they go boating on your lake without permission, they even kissed.”
At the mention of boating, Skene clenched her clothes. At the words *kissed*, she finally strode forward angrily.
“Where are you going?”
“To do what you want me to do. Why?”
As if you even know what I want. Glossa watched her younger sister, now cold as frost, and let out a low, mocking laugh. Everything was going according to plan. The petty jealousy that had yet to burn out had now ignited someone else’s rage.
“Won’t it be difficult to handle alone?”
At the eerie tone, Skene halted mid-step. After staring down the long corridor in confusion, she turned away again without answering.
—
Ezra sat on the cold stone floor, leaning their face against the narrow bed, staring as if entranced at the bundle of wildflowers laid on top.
They buried their face deep in the blanket, then, as if never growing tired of it, carefully examined the flowers again and reached out.
“They’re soft…”
Each time the small blossoms brushed their fingertips, a gentle, tender sensation spread. The ticklish feeling resembled their mood earlier that day. Slowly, Ezra traced their own lips with their fingers.
The memory of those warm, damp lips touching theirs. The firm shape that had gently pressed closer, the faint brush of a nose, the breath shared between them. Everything about him had been soft, intoxicating. Enough to turn their mind completely white, until nothing but sensation remained.
“W-what do I do…”
A kiss was on a completely different level from holding hands or hugging. Tongues touching, entwining, being sucked in as if to be devoured—each time, their heart had felt ready to burst, and somewhere deep in their belly a strange, aching sensation had spread. Everything about it felt unfamiliar.
“I didn’t hate it.”
A foolish smile kept slipping out along with the murmured words. Their cheeks burned, their lips kept curling upward as if pulled by invisible strings, and just as they covered their face with both hands, smiling brightly—
Hurried footsteps echoed through the stone tower, growing closer. They were nothing like the light steps of maids bringing food or changing bedding. These were urgent, rough, almost stomping.
A bad feeling struck. Ezra jumped to their feet and looked around wildly before grabbing the bundle of flowers first. Whether it was the queen or maids coming to punish them, this had to be hidden. They couldn’t let what mattered most to them be taken away.
Where should I put it—?
Just as Ezra shoved the flowers beneath the bed in a panic, the stone door creaked open with a chilling sound, as if on cue.
“P-Princess…?”
Ezra fell to their knees as they faced them. They had never once expected these people to come here. Shock left them frozen. The visitors looked down; Ezra looked up.
Cold sweat ran down their spine as fear welled up. Just as the clammy sweat began to form, the two who had hesitated at the threshold finally stepped inside.
“It’s been a while, Ezra. Since the banquet, at least.”
The one who spoke first was the eldest princess, Glossa. Before Ezra could answer, she continued in her elegant voice,
“No, that’s not quite right. Saying ‘it’s been a while’ is strange too. We’ve never really spoken face to face except at banquets and formal gatherings.”
“W-why… why have you come…?”
The trembling voice was humiliating, but fear was instinctive. Gritting their teeth, Ezra pressed their forehead to the floor.
“It’s nothing. I was just curious how you were living. But this place is truly revolting. Even the air is so stale… I feel like I might vomit.”
Skene covered her mouth and waved her hand, squeezing her eyes shut in exaggerated disgust. Pushing past her, Glossa slowly circled the cramped room.
“Father really is cruel. No matter what, you’re still a person. To lock you up in a place like this—and then to forget you entirely.”
At the word *forget*, Ezra’s slender back twitched. Glossa let out a cruel little laugh and sighed as if pitying them.
“My goodness. Even livestock live better than this. Just throw some feed in and it’d be no different.”
Silence fell. Though it was nothing new, despair crashed down and swallowed Ezra whole.
Father had said he didn’t know them. Didn’t even remember their name, nor wonder how they were living. He had simply forgotten.
The warmth of the memories they had been clinging to vanished, and only then did Ezra realize once more that they were trapped in a black, airless room. This was their place. A barren life meant to repeat endlessly.
It had all been a dream. Something fleeting, something they could never hold on to.
“When you showed yourself, do you know how surprised I was? I’d never seen Father make that kind of expression before. He looked at you like a complete stranger. Didn’t he, Skene?”
Even under such humiliation, Ezra only bowed their head lower. Skene, looking down at them, sighed openly. If only they had shouted back or resisted—then she could have slapped them, grabbed their hair, and ruined them without hesitation.
But this half-sibling, seen properly for the first time, was far too frail. She couldn’t bring herself to strike them. Taking a few steps back, wanting to leave, she realized Glossa had no such intention.
“And yet you—someone so insignificant—dared not only to leave the tower…”
Her voice sharpened.
“…but to force your way into a place you should never have set foot in.”
There was no need to ask which place she meant. Everywhere except the stone tower was forbidden to Ezra. Still, their thoughts drifted to the faintly shimmering lake.
“I’m sorry. I’ll never—never do it again…”
“Shut up.”
Glossa snapped coldly and closed her eyes. Even now, the image of the two of them kissing beneath that radiant scenery burned vividly in her mind. The man who always wore a gentle, polite smile—his face flushed with raw emotion.
He had clutched Ezra tightly, devouring them with desperate hunger. She couldn’t bear to have watched it like a bystander. That someone so lowly, barely better than an animal, had stolen the gaze of a noble prince—it wounded her pride beyond measure.
“If you did wrong, you should be punished.”
“Ah…!”
Glossa ground her heel down hard on Ezra’s thin, fragile hand. Then she extended her other hand toward the maid standing behind her. The maid respectfully placed a sharp dagger into her palm.
Even in the darkness, the blade gleamed coldly. Skene grabbed Glossa’s other arm in alarm.
“Sister!”
“Be quiet.”
Was she always like this? Skene staggered back, staring at Glossa as if possessed. This was beyond anything she could stop. She wasn’t even the true owner of the lake—yet Glossa’s obsession, jealousy, and vicious hatred made her skin crawl.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
Ezra repeated the words over and over. Glossa seized the back of their head roughly and wrenched it upward. Forced to look up, Ezra met her eyes and seemed to resign themself to everything.
Someone like me should die. I dared to desire him. Even knowing I would be punished, I couldn’t turn away from what he gave so freely. What cannot be refused and what cannot be chosen are the same.
“I was wrong.”
Ezra’s eyes shone a clear green. And Glossa recalled the final image burned into her memory: those peridot-colored eyes reflected in the captured red ones.
His hesitant sincerity. His fingers gently tucking damp black hair behind Ezra’s ear.
“Such long black hair.”
“Ugh!”
Returning from the memory, Glossa tightened her grip. Pain like being torn apart shot through Ezra’s scalp, tears spilling down their cheeks. The hair his hand had once touched now swayed around their waist.
“Lift your head like this. If you move wrong, your throat might be cut.”
“Ah…”
