Beyond the short lobby stretched a magnificent oak bookshelf, towering and grand enough to draw every gaze in the room. Maude’s face lit up with wonder as she glanced around. Kyle quietly watched her move among the shelves of ancient tomes, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

The way she studied each spine and plaque — delicate, careful — made it seem as though the stares of onlookers simply didn’t exist. Then, with a spark of excitement, Maude reached out and pulled a book from the shelf.

The Mermaid and the Prince.

The faded blue cover looked fragile in her hands, but her eyes shone as she smiled widely.

“It really is here! The first edition!”

She whispered the words like a secret, her laughter soft and childlike.

Kyle, watching that smile, couldn’t help but let out a quiet breath of amusement before stepping closer. His hand brushed the pages gently — one by one, slow and careful.

The book was filled with large, lavish illustrations — almost more pictures than words. Maude’s expression, absorbed and serious as if she were diving straight into the story itself, stood out vividly against the golden light filtering through the window.

“If it’s the first edition,” Kyle murmured, “then it must be the original version.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. 

“You know the original?”

He nodded slightly. 

“If I recall… the prince drives the knife into his own heart — instead of the mermaid.”

“Yes!” Maude exclaimed, her voice filled with delight. “Almost no one knows that part!”

She leaned closer to whisper — her perfume like the scent of flowers caught in a summer breeze.

“As expected of a naval officer,” she teased.

The faint fragrance that lingered from her hair brought with it memories of summer on land — sunlight, salt, and sea wind.

“Mermaids are real, though,” she said suddenly. “Aren’t they, Captain?”

Her smile told him she already knew what answer she wanted. Kyle gave a couple of slow nods, indulging her. That was enough to paint satisfaction across her face — the kind of expression that said she truly believed in such old legends.

A faint smile touched his lips as he watched the soft pink bloom across her cheeks. Her fingers, which had been busily flipping pages, gradually slowed. She paused on an illustration — dolphins and mermaids dancing across painted waves — her hand lingering there as though caught in a dream.

He hadn’t meant to interrupt her reverie, but seeing her so absorbed, he decided it was time. If he didn’t speak now, she might never emerge from that page.

“It looks just like the statue on Belforsa Beach in Fruea,” he said quietly.

Maude lifted her head, eyes wide with awe. 

“You’ve seen it in person?”

“Only briefly,” he replied.

He didn’t bother to add that he’d seen it during the war — when Fruea had been swallowed by fire. That was a memory best left unspoken.

“I’ll go there someday,” she said, her voice full of quiet longing. “Definitely.”

And with that promise, she turned the page again.

***

They left the library and walked along the marble colonnade behind it until they reached the garden pond. It was smaller than she had imagined, but charming all the same — sunlight rippling across the surface like liquid glass.

As they strolled beside the water, Kyle’s reflection swayed upon it — calm, poised, unshakable. Even the onlookers who had followed them here couldn’t take their eyes off him. Many of them, it seemed, had left the exhibition hall just to catch a glimpse of this man. And truthfully, he was worth the trouble.

“I think the Admiral might be angry,” Maude said suddenly, gazing at Kyle’s reflection on the water.

At the unexpected comment, his eyes turned toward her.

“Did something happen?”

The quiet, cool edge to his tone made her falter. She looked away and took a few quick steps ahead before replying.

“I ran into Lady Penelope by the back gate,” she said. “She told me she was in love with you, Captain.”

Then she turned, walking backward to face him, watching carefully for his reaction.

“So I told her not to covet what’s already mine.”

Her emerald-green eyes flashed playfully.

“She started crying and ran off,” Maude added, scratching her cheek with a sheepish smile.

Kyle couldn’t help but laugh — a small, helpless sound. The wind tugged lightly at her hair, carrying with it the faint scent of summer again.

“She seemed quite serious,” Maude went on, lowering her voice.

When Kyle offered no reply, only watching her in silence, her eyes narrowed in mock suspicion.

“Oh? You didn’t actually meet her, did you?” she teased.

Her playful tone was hard to resist. Kyle, thinking she looked especially lovely like this, finally answered.

“I didn’t even know who she was.”

Maude let out an exaggerated sigh. 

“Truly heartless, Captain. You shouldn’t break people’s hearts so easily.”

Even as she laughed, there was disbelief in her voice.

‘Did he really just say that?’ she thought.

If Lady Penelope had actually faced this man, he probably would’ve told her the same thing — in that same calm, detached voice.

In truth, maybe it was Lady Penelope’s good fortune that she’d left without meeting him.

As Maude looked into those unreadable blue eyes, a memory flashed through her mind — the sea of Bergen, rippling gently under a summer sky. She’d once thought the foam cresting over the waves was the same color as his uniform.

Then, unexpectedly, he spoke.

“And if she insists she loves me anyway?”

The quiet words carried a strange weight. His tone was mild, almost teasing, but there was something thoughtful beneath it.

Maude rolled her eyes, thinking, ‘She’d probably call her grandfather for help.’ 

Considering Lady Penelope’s temperament, that was entirely possible. She wasn’t the type to give up what she wanted.

As she pondered her answer, Maude met Kyle’s gaze again and sighed softly. Those eyes — blue as the sea, steady as the tide. It really wasn’t fair for a man to have eyes like that. Whoever fell for him next was bound for heartbreak.

Kyle seemed to sense her thoughts; he chuckled quietly and reached a hand to the back of his neck.

“I suppose I’ll need a countermeasure,” he said with a faint smile.

He fiddled with something, and when his hand came forward again, he was holding a small object. Maude tilted her head curiously.

“Your hand,” he said simply.

Without hesitation, she held it out. The amusement flickering in his eyes was unmistakable. The scene felt strangely familiar — like that moment under the clock tower long ago.

When Kyle’s fingers opened, the object gleamed faintly in his palm.

“A dog tag?” she asked in surprise.

“You’ve seen one before?”

“Only in pictures,” she admitted. “This is my first time seeing one up close.”

Kyle smiled faintly. Her eyes darted across the tag, tracing the faint engravings on the red disc.

“This part’s the surname, right? And the initials—?”

“From the top,” Kyle explained, “it lists the service number, name initials, surname, and rank.”

She followed his words closely, her gaze pausing at one detail. “Ah…”

Her attention had caught on the small wooden pendant shaped like a fish’s tail.

“There’s an old naval legend,” Kyle said quietly. “They say Admiral Hamilton once fell into the sea, wounded, and was saved by a mermaid. To honor that tale — and to wish safe return for all sailors — this pendant was added to the tag’s design.”

Stray strands of his hair glinted in the light, his face calm, eyes reflecting the faint ripple of water nearby.

“See?” Maude said, smiling. “That means they really do exist — mermaids.”

He looked at her, amused. She seemed so content just believing it that he didn’t have the heart to ruin it.

“Perhaps,” he said softly.

In truth, the story had long been used by sailors simply to stave off the fear of death at sea. Yet somehow, standing under the bright summer light, that old legend felt alive again — because of her.

“I do belong to you, Miss Maude,” he murmured, voice low and warm, “but the Admiral isn’t exactly a good man. So please, stop making his granddaughter cry.”

Her indignant little protest fluttered into the breeze.

“I didn’t mean to! It wasn’t on purpose!”

“Keep it,” Kyle said simply. “There’s no better token for a lover than this.”

A summer he’d never imagined began to unfold like a dream.

“Forgive me if this seems improper,” he added quietly.

Before she could reply, he draped the chain over her wrist — the red tag glinting softly against her skin. His hand lingered, guiding the chain gently as the pendants slid into place.

Her eyes followed his movements, then lifted to meet his.

‘A lover’s token…’

She repeated the words silently, wondering if she should really accept something like this. Her thoughts scattered as the cool metal brushed against her wrist again, his slow touch tightening the loop.

“That should do it,” she whispered, smiling faintly.

She looked shy, uncertain, but Kyle didn’t seem to notice. He met her gaze, gave the chain one final twist around her wrist, and then finally let go.

Maude stared down at it for a long moment before asking softly, “So… what does it mean?”