***

The next day.

Cyrene noticed that the maid who brought her tea was someone she had never seen before. She cocked her head in curiosity, but no one offered an explanation.

“Where’s Rosie?”

“She resigned.”

After drinking the lukewarm tea, she noticed that every maid who entered the room after that was also unfamiliar.

“I’ve never seen any of you before.”

“They’ve all resigned.”

Cyrene did not ask further. The memory of yesterday, when he had asked who had said such things, came to mind. A part of her that she had instinctively tried to ignore was now exposed.

Deep down she knew that one wrong word from her could change many things. As the unfamiliar maids tended to her, Cyrene stared silently into the mirror.

Unlike the previous maids who had whispered and gossiped, these ones didn’t utter a single unnecessary word. It was as if their tongues had been cut out.

…If they left, where did they go?

Even though she wasn’t particularly close to them, it bothered her. They had been with her for years, since she first entered the palace. She briefly considered asking, but let her gaze drop instead.

Her instincts warned her that digging into this would not end well. Whatever Areos had done, what use would it be to say anything now? She tried to push thoughts of the maids from her mind.

Despite the change in faces, another day began as if nothing had happened.

***

Cyrene’s life hadn’t changed much. She was still confined to the Crown Prince’s palace, gasping under Areos’ hands every night.

Perhaps the only consolation was that she had gotten used to it.

She walked slowly through the palace. It was one of those rare moments when she found herself “alone”. Although the Crown Prince liked to keep her in his sight, he didn’t take her with him for anything really ‘important’.

A meeting, most likely.

A gathering of nobles and, of course, the Emperor himself at such an important council.

Cyrene stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t even get a clear image of the Emperor’s face. He had rarely crossed her path, not even when she lived with her mother.

She could only vaguely recall that Areos bore some resemblance to him. But Cyrene quickly shook her head. What use was it to think about it? The Emperor never visited here and she had no way of leaving.

Am I really not an illegitimate child?

Did it matter if she was acknowledged or not?

Cyrene tilted her head slightly. It was a faded memory now, but her mother had always called her ‘His Majesty’s daughter’. She had said that Cyrene would become a princess as soon as she entered the Imperial Palace. Of course, those words became meaningless when Creusa died before that could happen.

If she wasn’t really His Majesty’s daughter, then whose child was she? Cyrene let out a long sigh as she cycled through endless questions, knowing they would lead to no answers.

The truth was known only to Creusa and the Emperor, but neither were people Cyrene could ever hope to meet. In the end, it didn’t seem to matter much if she really was an illegitimate child or not.

It wasn’t as if she could escape the Crown Prince, nor would it change their relationship. What mattered to Areos was that she was his “pet”. Even if she really was his sister by blood, it wouldn’t mean much to him.

Cyrene stepped out into the garden, feeling the eyes of the guards as they glanced briefly in her direction. She walked slowly, deeper into the garden. The constant exposure to watchful eyes made her long for solitude.

How far had she gone? Far enough that the guards were out of sight. Cyrene reached a beautifully carved bench and sat down on its edge.

“Haah…”

She let out a deep sigh, allowing her body, tired from constant vigilance, to finally relax. Half reclining on the bench, she rested her cheek against the cold stone surface, finding a fleeting sense of comfort in its coolness.

He won’t come until evening.

Would she be summoned back to his chambers? Cyrene blinked, her expression blank. It wasn’t that she felt any resistance – she simply felt nothing.

Perhaps it was because the voices of those who used to mutter about how ‘wrong’ it was had disappeared. Even the urge to resist seemed to be fading fast. Even though she knew it wasn’t right, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse. Was it because he was the Crown Prince? Because he was her master? Or was it simply because she had gotten used to it?

I don’t know.

Cyrene let out a short sigh. She was seventeen now. The faintly budding curves of her br*asts had grown enough to fit within Areo’s grasp, and her appearance was shifting from that of a child to something closer to womanhood.

Creusa.

She thought of her mother. Without a single portrait to remember her by, Cyrene couldn’t recall her mother’s exact features. Still, she thought they might have looked something like each other. Her platinum hair was certainly the same shade as her mother’s.

When she was younger, Areos used to invoke her mother’s name, whispering it almost as a spell to make her more beautiful. But the older she grew, the less he mentioned Creusa’s name.

How strange.

A small chuckle escaped her lips.

Why was that? Did he think comparisons were meaningless now?

As she pondered the thought, Cyrene squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. It bothered her that she found herself thinking about him even in his absence.

It was as if no one else in the world existed. Even a year after the maids had been replaced, Cyrene still didn’t know their names. She didn’t know the guards’ names either. No one ever approached her or spoke to her.

She vaguely knew the names of a few nobles who occasionally visited the Crown Prince’s office, but that was all. What was the point of knowing their names if she couldn’t have a real conversation with any of them? Cyrene sighed and leaned back against the cold stone. The only person in her life was Areos. Of course, she couldn’t help but think of him.

“Ah.”

A man’s short exclamation suddenly broke the silence. Startled, Cyrene straightened as a man emerged from the bushes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

He bowed his head, his trousers and shirt stained with earth, his gloved hands clutching a large pair of scissors.

A gardener?

How was she to know? She had never seen a gardener before.

Cyrene stared at him in silence. It was the first time anyone had spoken to her and it made her a little nervous.

There was an awkward silence between them. The man’s face was flushed under the brim of his straw hat.

“Are you all right?”

Cyrene asked suddenly. She wondered if something was wrong with him.

At her question, the man hastily covered his face with his dirty hand and took a step back.

“I-I’m fine.”

Silence fell again.

The smell of grass and the faint scent of flowers filled the air. The gardener hesitated for a long moment before asking cautiously.

“Er… may I ask your name?”

“Cyrene.”

The very fact that someone had asked her name was surprising. Everyone who worked in the palace already knew it. The man rolled his eyes thoughtfully, hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer.

He wore the scent of earth mixed with the dry warmth of sunlight, as if he had spent hours working in the sun.

“Are you a young lady of noble family?”

A young lady from a noble family. Cyrene instinctively shook her head. As Areos often reminded her, she was just trash – something useless that would have been discarded if not for him.

What did it matter if her mother had been a marchioness and her father an emperor? Neither recognised her. Seeing her reaction, the man tilted his head slightly, but then smiled brightly.

“Well, I’m Jeremy.”

“…Jeremy.”

She slowly repeated the unfamiliar name. It had been so long since she’d said anyone’s name that she couldn’t even remember the last time. Seeing her reaction, Jeremy smiled warmly.

“What brings you to the Crown Prince’s palace?”

That was actually a question Cyrene wanted to ask. As she stared at him in silence, Jeremy, his face flushed, scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“Actually, I’ve only just started working here. Oh, and I also help out with the garden at the other palace annex.”

Cyrene had no idea where that was, but she just nodded. The man who had been talking about his work now bowed deeply, his face almost bursting with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry…”

Cyrene didn’t know what he was apologising for, but she responded with the most appropriate answer she could think of.

“It’s fine.”

At her words, Jeremy’s face lit up with a bright smile. He really was someone who smiled easily. Cyrene looked at his face and felt a sense of newness and wonder. Everything about the moment felt new and fresh – the fact that someone was asking her name, that she was hearing someone else’s name, and that someone was actually talking to her.

“May I call you Cyrene?”

Is it okay to be called that?

Apart from Areos, no one had ever called her by her name. Everyone else avoided mentioning Cyrene altogether, and when they had to address her, they simply used “Miss”.