“It’s not that it’s a problem… I just don’t want to call you something generic.”
“Why?”

Chamuka responded quietly to Leticia’s question.
“If I call you, you might not even realize I’m calling you. I don’t want that to happen.”

Chamuka recalled the time he had endlessly stared at Leticia’s back from the collapsed tower.
Now, she had recovered enough to move, but back then, all he could do was watch helplessly.
He wished he had a name he could call her by.
Not a title like “prince,” but a name that would make her turn around without fail when called.

Chamuka was unsure whether he wanted the name of the prince or the prince himself.
But one thing was clear—he no longer wanted to call her simply “prince.” He didn’t even want to call her by the name Sion Herta, which might not even be the real prince’s name.

If this had been before the tower collapsed, he might have first wondered, “Why?” But now, Chamuka was in a somewhat impulsive state.
In fact, it wasn’t just Chamuka—the entire Basilinte family was like that.

After the tower collapsed, it was as if a dam had burst, and the emotions they had suppressed began to faintly resurface.
If Astrid had been there, she might have diagnosed their condition precisely, but for now, none of them were fully aware of their own state.

Chamuka also didn’t realize how peculiar his words sounded.
“It doesn’t have to be a name. It could be a nickname or an abbreviation… as long as it’s something that makes it clear I’m calling you.”

“That sounds more like a pet name…”

Leticia trailed off, flustered.

Chamuka thought about it for a moment and then nodded.
“That’s true.”

Chamuka wanted to call Leticia something special. Something unique and unmistakable, so that the moment he called her, she would know it was him.

“Um, well… Chamuka.”

Leticia laughed awkwardly.
She lowered her gaze, pretending to focus on stroking Tan’s hair, avoiding Chamuka’s intense stare.

“Usually, pet names are used within families. Shouldn’t we maintain a bit more propriety, Chamuka?”

Her words, drawing a line between them, made Chamuka frown faintly. He wasn’t even aware of the change in his expression.

He immediately objected.
“You’re not a stranger.”
“…?”
“You belong to Basilinte. You’re part of this place, so how could you be a stranger?”

Oh, in that sense?

It sounded as if he was talking about a possession, but he wasn’t wrong.
Leticia wondered if Chamuka wanted to name her like one might name a cherished object.

Well, she had heard of a chef who called his pot Charles.

“Right now, you belong to Father, and later, you’ll be inherited by me along with the title. Doesn’t that make you closer than family?”

It felt like a significant leap in logic.
Leticia felt as though she had been reduced to a golden turtle passed down through generations of a family.

When faced with illogical reasoning, the best response was equally illogical reasoning.
“Then we can revisit this conversation when that time comes. For now, you’re not the Grand Duke yet, and I belong to His Grace. Plus, I might die before I’m inherited by you…”

Leticia muttered absentmindedly, unaware of the realization and resolve her words would spark in Chamuka.

***

In the early evening, Leticia was sitting on the bed, holding Astrid’s hand, when a child’s voice called out.
“Got it!”

Leticia looked up to see Tan running from afar and throwing himself at her. She caught him and fell backward onto the bed.

Although he was a head shorter than Leticia, the five-year-old was surprisingly heavy, probably due to his muscles.

“Got it, got it. I like you…”

Tan murmured as he rubbed his forehead against Leticia’s shoulder.
When she stopped him from licking her face, he started rubbing his forehead against her instead.

“You’re heavy, Tan. Please get down.”
“No.”

Leticia sighed inwardly and patted Tan’s back.
As his grip on her loosened slightly, Leticia quickly turned and laid him down next to Astrid.

Although he didn’t cling to Astrid as much as he did to Leticia, Tan still enjoyed being close to Astrid. He immediately pressed himself against Astrid’s side while wrapping his arms around Leticia’s waist.

Finally, she was a bit more comfortable.

Leticia liked Tan, who clung to her affectionately, but she couldn’t help feeling a little exhausted by his boundless energy.

“Who were you with?”
“Grandfather.”
“Where?”
“In the forest.”
“What were you doing?”
“Running… with trees?”

She wasn’t sure what he meant, but it seemed Gaien had been playing with him.
Leticia noticed dirt on Tan’s hands, likely from running on all fours again, and reached for a towel to clean him.

She didn’t even need to say anything anymore—she naturally reached for the neatly folded towels on the bedside table.

At that moment, Tan, still clinging to her waist, mumbled.
“Don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m just grabbing a towel.”
“Liar.”
“It’s not a lie… Oh.”

Did Tan know the word “liar”? Did he learn it today?

Leticia turned her head, wondering if she had misheard the child’s clumsy pronunciation.
Tan’s pretty face, smiling brightly at her, looked the same as usual.

Leticia tilted her head in confusion and habitually stroked Tan’s hair a few times.
“Did you learn a new word? From Gaien?”
“No.”
“Then who taught you? His Grace must be busy. Was it Chamuka? Hilda? Hallik the butler?”

Tan smiled bashfully at her touch and answered, “You.”
“…Me?”

When Leticia repeated his words, Tan spoke clearly.
“You. Herta. Liar.”

His unusually clear pronunciation made Leticia freeze.

Tan grabbed Leticia’s hand.
For a moment, she thought she saw a golden glimmer in his bright blue eyes, but then someone slapped their hands apart.

Cold, slender fingers.

It was Astrid, the Grand Duchess.
“What do you think you’re doing!”

Astrid grabbed Tan by the back of his neck and flung him to the corner of the bed. Then, staggering to her feet, she stood up.

Leticia was alarmed by Astrid’s pale face and the cold sweat dripping from her.
“Your Grace!”

She hadn’t expected Astrid to move so suddenly. She thought Astrid would simply open her eyes quietly, not leap up like this…

“Come here, child. Quickly, now!”

Astrid’s hoarse voice rang out as her sharp blue eyes locked onto Leticia.
Her urgency was unmistakable, and Leticia instinctively took a few steps toward her.

Astrid, with surprising strength, scooped Leticia up in her thin arms.
“Your Grace, why—”
“Don’t call me ‘Your Grace’! I’m not that anymore!”

Astrid’s body was as cold as a corpse.
She staggered as she carried Leticia out of the room, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she held Leticia tightly and began to run.