"We have four days to have fun. Let's get Lina and do something."
Vionette was seated sideways on Noa's lap like a spoiled cat who had conquered her favorite cushion. One thigh rested casually over the armrest of the chair, the other bent slightly as she leaned into him with the shameless comfort of someone who had already decided where she belonged.
In her hand was a silver spoon dipped in Moonlit Berry Cream, its pale violet sheen catching the light like a sliver of captured dusk. She raised it slowly, ceremoniously, and fed him as though he were some ancient deity she alone had chosen to worship.
"Speaking of Lina, we have to put her into an academy next year."
Noa was staring at the papers on the desk with the most convincing expression of concentration he could muster. His brows were slightly furrowed, eyes moving line by line in dignified silence. If anyone walked in at that moment, they would assume he was deciphering the fate of kingdoms.
In truth, he understood almost nothing written there.
He simply needed an excuse for her to stay exactly like this.
And Vionette, brilliant strategist that she was, had told him to read those papers for precisely the same reason. If he was "busy," then she could "help" him by feeding him dessert. It was mutual manipulation wrapped in affection.
"…really?" Noa asked after swallowing the spoonful, lifting his gaze toward her with a slow blink that betrayed more thought than the documents ever had.
"Really," she replied with a small nod, eyes closed as if this were already decided by fate. "Kids enter academies at the age of eleven. Well, it's okay for her to stay here forever too… but I think she will like it more."
Another spoon was fed to him, gently pressing against his lips before he accepted it. The sweetness melted on his tongue, but it was nothing compared to the warmth settling in his chest.
"Mmm… I think so too," he said thoughtfully. "Lately, I haven't been able to play with her much. So it's better if she can make some friends there."
The sunlight filtered through tall windows behind them, draping their figures in gold. For a moment, the office—once a chamber of war plans and alliances—felt like a quiet domestic sanctuary carved out of chaos. Outside, the world sharpened its swords. Inside, a princess fed her partner dessert like time had no claim over them.
Then the door opened.
The sound of wood sliding against stone cut through the atmosphere like a blade.
Vionette's eyebrow twitched. Seriously, don't they know how to knoc— The thought died in her throat as she turned toward the entrance.
"Eeeek!!?"
Her voice came out small, alarmed, utterly un-royal.
In the doorway stood her greatest fear within the kingdom.
Seliora.
Her sister.
She held a sword loosely in her left hand, the blade catching light with quiet menace, while her right hand rested on her waist. Her expression was blank—not angry, not amused. Just blank. And that was worse.
She took in the sight before her: a princess sitting sideways on a man's lap, feeding him cream like a bride rehearsing vows.
"What is this?" Seliora asked.
Her tone was so neutral it felt like judgment from a divine tribunal.
…
Seliora sat in the chair like a magistrate presiding over a case of treason, arms folded, legs crossed with elegant authority. The sword now leaned against the desk beside her, but its presence lingered like an unspoken reminder.
Before her, two defendants knelt on the ground.
They rested on their heels properly, backs straight, hands placed obediently on their thighs, eyes lowered in textbook submission. The transformation from relaxed lovers to disciplined kneelers had occurred in under ten seconds.
Seliora tapped a finger against her folded arm, the soft sound echoing in the silence.
"Sister of mine," she began, lifting her chin slightly, "did you run away from me last time or not?"
Vionette twitched as if cold water had been thrown over her fur.
"Y-yes—No—"
"You didn't?"
"I did—I mean, I didn't! It was, uhh, urgent!"
"How so?"
Vionette scrambled for dignity the way a cat scrambles for footing after slipping from a windowsill.
"W-well, you see, there was some human trafficking going on there, so as soon as I heard the news, I rushed to handle the situation." She quickly pointed at Noa beside her. "He was there too, so I had to go before he caused trouble."
Noa's head turned slowly toward her, disbelief radiating silently.
Seliora released a long sigh that seemed to carry years of elder-sister exhaustion.
"Look," she said more gently, "I understand that you need to enjoy yourself, as you told me before. Personally, I prefer the way you are now instead of that robotic version from before. But as the ruler here, you must take certain matters more seriously."
It was not authority speaking.
It was care.
And Vionette understood that more than anyone.
"I'll let that off the hook for now," Seliora continued.
Vionette's mouth parted slightly in relief, hope blooming like a fragile flower.
"Next."
The flower died instantly.
Vionette clenched her teeth.
Seliora's gaze sharpened slightly.
"What are the rumors I've been hearing about a princess going to hot springs with another man?"
Noa's soul momentarily left his body.
"Who did you go to the hot springs with?"
This time the question carried no sharp edge—only curiosity.
Slowly, trembling only a little, Noa raised his hand like a student confessing to breaking school property.
Seliora followed the motion and traced it back to him. Her head tilted.
"Oh. It was him? Then it's no problem."
Silence.
Noa and Vionette looked up in perfect synchronization, confusion written across their faces.
"Huh?"
"What?"
"I was just checking who you went with," Seliora said calmly. "If it's the one you call your partner, then it's fine. I have no right to interfere with your love story. I was simply hoping it would be someone decent."
"…Big sis. Snif."
"BIG SIIIS!"
Noa's eyes filled dramatically with unshed tears, as if he had just received approval from his girlfriend's parents. Meanwhile, Vionette lunged forward and wrapped both arms around Seliora's leg, shouting as though marriage had been formally sanctioned.
"GET OFF!"
Seliora began shaking her leg in irritation, trying to detach the clinging princess as if removing an overly affectionate barnacle.
***
Vionette stood before Lina's bedroom door with a brightness in her eyes that hadn't faded since the interrogation.
"Lina~" she sang softly as she opened the door.
The room had changed. What was once plain white now wore soft pink walls, chosen by Lina herself. Sunlight slipped through pastel curtains and brushed across a small wooden desk cluttered with storybooks and ink bottles. A plush toy guarded the pillow like a loyal knight, and a round mirror reflected the quiet innocence of childhood.
Lina popped up from her bed where she had been studying magic. Her red dress fluttered as she ran toward Vionette and threw her arms around her waist.
"Why are you studying magic? Didn't you learn swordsmanship from me?" Noa asked as he stepped in behind Vionette.
"Hum!" Lina pouted at him while still hugging Vionette. "I will use both."
"…Sure." Noa's mouth slightly open.
"Lina, we're going somewhere. Do you want to come with us?" Vionette asked, placing her hands gently on the girl's shoulders.
Lina looked up with a sly smile far too clever for her size.
"If it's something private, I won't meddle in."
Both adults froze.
This little—
"…It's not. So, wanna come or not, you brat?" Noa pinched her cheeks lightly.
"Let's go then," Lina replied, already walking out confidently.
Noa and Vionette exchanged amused glances before hurrying after her.
I guess she really was bored here alone.
"Where's mom?" Noa asked as they walked down the corridor.
"She's in the kitchen, I think."
"The kitchen?"
"Yea. Her cooking was so good that she was asked to teach the royal chefs."
Noa placed his hands behind his head and smiled. He remembered the first meal he had eaten in this world four years ago—simple, warm, unforgettable.
Can't deny it. Her cooking really is the best.
***
They arrived in Eryndor's capital, Veylith, through the teleportation circle, the air there lighter and more vibrant than Crimvane's solemn calm. Noa held Lina's left hand while Vionette held her right, forming a small bridge of warmth between them as they walked along bustling stone streets.
"Hey," Noa said casually, giving Vionette a side glance. "If this is Veylith, what's Crimvane's capital called?"
"You didn't know?" she replied, tilting her head slightly. "It's Arveth."
"Arveth, huh…" He rolled the name on his tongue before glancing down at Lina. "Lina, do you want to go to an academy?"
She looked up at him, eyes wide. "An academy?"
"Yea."
"Really?"
"Really."
The word echoed inside her like a bell rung in a sacred hall.
"Yes! Yes!"
Her eyes sparkled with pure, unfiltered excitement, and Noa felt something tighten in his chest. He was reminded that a commoner girl would never have imagined such a path before.
That's right, I'm not a hope-maker, he thought quietly, glancing toward Vionette.
But a hope-maker better than gods walks beside me.
He looked ahead at the city streets, his gaze hardening slightly beneath the warmth. Thalaor… if you think you can take this smile away from me, I'll be there soon.
"We're here again"
When Vionette said, Noa looked up as they stood before the same tailor shop where their current clothes had been made, its sign swaying gently above the entrance as though welcoming old conspirators.
The bell above the door chimed brightly when they entered, and every worker inside turned in unison. Their eyes lit up upon spotting the pink-haired child near the doorway, recognition spreading like wildfire.
"It's that child again!"
"Oh my!"
"We have new outfits!"
Employees abandoned their stations mid-task, startling confused customers who stared in disbelief as their assistants vanished toward the entrance.
"W-what the?"
"Hey—!"
Even Noa and Vionette blinked at the sudden commotion.
"Cut it out, you guys," a firm voice rang out, and Nymira appeared through the crowd like a general restoring order. "Go back to your work."
The light drained from the workers' faces as they reluctantly dispersed.
Ignoring their dramatic groans, Nymira approached the trio with composed elegance, hands folded properly, golden-brown eyes confident enough to meet a princess without hesitation.
"Princess Vionette," she said with a slight smile, "what kind of request is it today?"
Vionette and Noa smiled back, but theirs were not warm.
They were fox smiles.
Scheming smiles.
"Well, you see—"
"We want to make a custom order."