The palace grew a little noisier, signalling the arrival of the Crown Prince.

Cyrene quickly went downstairs.

“Welcome back, Your Highness.”

“Yes.”

His hair was damp with sweat, as if he had just returned from morning training. Now twenty years old, the Crown Prince had long since shed all traces of boyhood. Towering over even the Emperor, with a solid, muscular frame and strikingly handsome features, he had become the very picture of an ideal man.

Cyrene was well aware of how much everyone wanted to be associated with him. Women’s eyes gleamed at the thought of the still vacant position of Crown Princess, while men were captivated by his status as Crown Prince.

“You look lovely.”

“Thank you.”

Cyrene replied, smiling brightly as she bowed her head.

“Still, the red dress from last time suited you much better. Get rid of this one.”

She tightened her grip on the butterfly brooch she still held in her hand. The yellow dress she was wearing now was one of her favourites.

“Understood. Shall we have her change?”

One of the maids asked.

“That would be better.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The maid replied on Cyrene’s behalf as Cyrene kept her lips tightly closed. She parted her lips slightly, intending to ask if she could wear the butterfly pin today, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Follow me.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Areos raised an eyebrow at Cyrene’s summons, his displeasure evident. It was clear he wasn’t in the best moods. She hesitated for a moment, her courage faltering, before stepping back quietly.

“I’ll go change.”

“All right.”

The red dress Areos had mentioned was brought out as the maids bustled around her. The yellow dress she had been wearing was removed, seemingly destined for the dustbin.

“Wait!”

 Cyrene called urgently, stopping them in their tracks.

“Don’t throw it away. I want to keep it.”

“His Highness ordered it to be thrown away.”

“I know, I know… but can’t I keep it?”

“His Highness ordered to throw it away.”

The maid, repeating the same words like a parrot, walked away with the dress. Kyrene simply closed her eyes tightly for a moment before opening them again. This world always moved according to Areos’ will.

If he said to throw it away, it would be thrown away. If he said to wear it, it would be worn. If he said to eat it, it would be eaten.

He was Lord of this castle, Lord of Cyrene and Lord of this world.

Dressed in the red gown, Cyrene returned to Areos’ study.

“Much better.”

He remarked casually, glancing at her.

“Thank you.”

Bowing slightly, she went to her usual place and sat down, picking up the book he had given her to read. It was an ordinary day.

A doll.

Cyrene thought of the beautiful dolls in her room. She was no different from them. The only difference was that she lived. As she grew older, Areos tightened his control over her, little by little.

Someone entered the room – a man. His gaze swept briefly over Cyrene before returning to Areos, who responded with a chuckle.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Pardon? Ah… yes…”

The man replied awkwardly, clearly taken by surprise. Cyrene kept her head down, pretending not to hear their conversation, her eyes fixed on the book in her hands. Although the book had a beautiful cover, none of the words registered in her mind.

“Cyrene. Come here.”

Areos motioned with a slight wave of his hand. Obediently, Cyrene rose and approached him, placing her hand in his outstretched one. He twirled it lightly, leading her in a graceful turn.

Areos always loved to show her off.

When she smiled brightly, the man gave a weak, confused smile in return.

“She is twelve now. In another five or six years she’ll be a real beauty.”

His tone was one of bragging about something he owned. Like saying, “The horse I have has excellent bloodlines,” or, “This new gem I bought is incredibly rare. Cyrene maintained a practiced smile and bowed her head slightly. At Areos’ words, the man hesitated before awkwardly offering a compliment.

“She’s quite beautiful the way she is.”

“Isn’t she?”

The Crown Prince smiled with satisfaction. When Cyrene bowed her head slightly in greeting, the man gave another awkward chuckle.

“That’s right. Cyrene is an excellent singer. Would you like to hear her?”

“Oh, no. That’s all right.”

“Is that so?”

Areos shrugged slightly and gestured again. She returned to her seat and picked up the book.

Thank goodness.

She hadn’t wanted to sing. She wasn’t in the mood.

Her cherished yellow dress had been discarded and the butterfly pin she had wanted to wear was now tucked into her clothes.

There was nothing she could do of her own free will. If it had been possible, even breathing would have required Areo’s command. Cyrene scanned the unreadable text absently, turning the pages of the book.

The book wasn’t something she had chosen to read either. It was one of the “nice” books the Crown Prince had ordered someone to fetch. The contents were terrible, but the cover was decorated with intricate patterns and small jewels.

An ornament…

She remembered someone whispering behind her. There was no word that could describe her more clearly.

“Cyrene. Smile.”

At the Crown Prince’s command, she instinctively lifted the corners of her lips into a smile.

Sunlight streaming through the window, curtains swaying gently, hair shimmering, and a girl reading a beautiful book – it was a scene straight out of a painting, she thought, almost amused.

She felt Areos’ eyes on her. Glancing sideways, she saw that his expression had softened slightly, seemingly satisfied.

The two men resumed their conversation, as if getting back to business, while Cyrene turned another page in the book. Another monotonous day passed.

***

Her life as a beautiful ornament began to change around the time of her first menstruation, and her br*asts began to swell slightly.

Cyrene watched quietly as Areos approached her with firm, deliberate steps. As time passed and she grew older, so did he – surpassing her in every way. She had once thought that familiarity would make him less intimidating or overwhelming, but it was as if Areos could read her mind. He was always one step ahead of her: in size, in presence, and even in the fear he instilled.

“Hm.”

He suddenly reached out and grabbed her slightly swollen br*ast.

“Ah!”

What should she do in such a situation?

As Cyrene tried to push him away, Areos pulled her dress down. Beneath the thin muslin, the slightly swollen shape of her br*ast was fully exposed.

His long fingers moved slowly over her swollen br*ast, as if exploring. It tickled and felt strange. Areos tilted her chin up and quietly locked eyes with her.

Every time Cyrene blinked, his fingers continued to move slowly over the fabric. At one point, the tip of his finger pressed lightly against a soft n*pple.

“Ugh…”

She felt a strange sensation. She was confused – was this how it was supposed to be, or was there something wrong with her? When the maids washed her, she never felt anything even when they touched her br*ast, so why was it different with Areos?

“Even with that innocent expression, you seem to feel something.”

“What?”

She couldn’t quite understand his words. Cyrene frowned slightly, but the Crown Prince only seemed more amused. His fingertips pressed firmly against her soft n*pple, then scraped gently down. The movement beyond the fabric sent shivers through her entire body.

Was it fear? Or some other emotion? Even she wasn’t sure, which made her uneasy.

Areos wore an expression of pure amusement, one he hadn’t shown in a long time. His fingers squeezed harder. After a while of pinching and toying with her br*ast, the Crown Prince went so far as to pull the muslin down completely. The n*pple, usually a pale pink, was now flushed red.

Seeing this, Areos laughed softly and tapped her cheek lightly.

“I look forward to what’s to come.”

She didn’t ask why? There was no point – he wasn’t the type to explain things to her step by step anyway.

He called for a maid and ordered her to fix Kyrene’s clothes. Blushing slightly, Cyrene obediently let the maid’s quick hands dress her again.

“Leave now.”

“Good night,” she said, saying goodbye as usual.

As soon as she left the room, the other maids cast curious glances in her direction.

“What happened in there?”

The hushed whispers were all too familiar. She had grown accustomed to pretending not to hear them, or simply ignoring them altogether. Cyrene lifted her head and walked slowly down the hall, her steps measured and deliberate.

“Her clothes were half off.”

“Really?”

“Do you think they’ve already…?”

“It doesn’t seem like it yet… but at this rate it’s bound to happen, isn’t it?”

She wanted to ask what exactly they were suggesting wouldn’t happen, but she pressed her lips together tightly. The sound of the maids’ whispered gossip followed behind her.

“Isn’t she an illegitimate child? They’re half-siblings, aren’t they? That’s wrong. He wouldn’t really take her to bed… would he?”

Cyrene had a vague, uncomfortable feeling that what he was doing was indeed wrong.

If everyone else knew it was wrong, then surely Areos knew it too. Which meant he was acting in the full knowledge that it was forbidden.

She pressed her lips together more tightly.

No matter what the Crown Prince did, Cyrene had no power to stop him or influence his decisions. All she could do was accept them. Her ignorance prevented her from even knowing what to fear.

The memory of the Crown Prince’s golden eyes, sharper and more piercing than ever, flashed through her mind.

Cyrene forced herself to banish the thought.