They say marriage is for people who love each other. In noble houses, marriage happens whether you like the person or love them or not, but Isabella could not understand that. Her mother must have loved her father. Seeing how deeply her father still longed for her mother, the two of them must have truly loved each other.

What does it feel like to love someone? What kind of feeling is it, to keep missing someone even when they are not there?

— I’m curious. That you can love someone that much.

— Do you want to marry someone you love?

— Yes. Someone like Father would be nice.

He had always been kind and warm with her, so he must have been even kinder and warmer with her mother. If it were possible, she wanted to marry someone like her father. Someone who smiled easily, was warm and gentle, and loved only her. She was not sure exactly what love felt like, but if what her father did was love, that seemed like it would be wonderful.

Looking only at each other, missing only each other, cherishing only each other. If that was what love was, Isabella thought she would like that too.

— Those are easy conditions.

— Easy conditions?

— Of course.

She had thought they were difficult. Were they easy? She tilted her head, and Reymon burst out laughing and slid a teacup toward her. She did not reach for it, only kept her eyes on him in a look that said go on, and Reymon laughed again and answered her question.

— Someone who loves you could never be unkind.

— ……

— How could anyone be cold and distant in front of the person they love?

— Is that so?

— Of course. If they love you, they’ll always be there for you. They’ll be gentle only with you, and whisper that they love you only to you.

— Do you really think so?

— Of course.

She really hoped so. She hoped for a man who would be there only for her, warm and gentle only with her. A man like her father would be someone she could spend her whole life with. They could lean on each other, love each other, have beautiful children, and live happily.

— Is there nothing else you want?

— Nothing else?

— Good looks, a tall build. Things like that.

— Hmm.

Isabella fell back into thought at Reymon’s follow-up question. Someone kind and warm who loves me. But even so.

— Handsome would obviously be nice.

— And?

— Tall too. And large hands. And…

— There’s more?

— Someone strong enough to protect me would be nice.

Once she started thinking of one thing, the wishes came spilling out one after another. Still, since she was going to marry someone anyway, a small wish had taken root in one corner of her heart that the person she loved would be handsome and wonderful. Someone like that would be even better. 

She still did not quite understand what love felt like, but if just looking at someone made love well up inside her, she felt certain she could live happily. The warm conversation about a future husband whose face she did not yet know came to an end, they said their goodbyes with smiles, and Isabella’s debut that followed was a success.

And half a year passed.

— Reymon! Help me, please!

A dark night when everyone had fallen asleep. The day after Avilion’s prophecy had struck every ear like a thunderbolt, sparing not even the smallest child. Isabella came rushing to find Reymon.

— Isabella?

— Please help me.

Her face drenched in tears.

— What happened? Tell me.

— I, I…

The moment she found Reymon, Isabella’s trembling legs gave out beneath her and she sank to the ground. Her escort knight and Bailey were startled, and along with Reymon, they rushed to her side and helped her to her feet.

— It’s all right. Whatever it is, it’s going to be all right.

— Reymon, I…

— Calm down a little first, then tell me. Would you please give us a moment? I’d like to speak with Isabella.

At Reymon’s words, the escort knight and Bailey bowed and slowly stepped back from around them. Knowing that Reymon and Isabella had been close since childhood, they did not hesitate.

— Here, water. Drink slowly.

— ……

Isabella brought the cold water to her lips without hesitation and drank it down. Reymon, who always gave her warm tea, was giving her cold water, which must have been his way of telling her to calm down. She drained the cup and set it down.

— It’s all right. Everything is all right, so speak when you’re ready.

— Reymon.

How could the tears not come at such gentle comfort? The tears she had barely managed to stop began to fall again. Flustered, Reymon hurriedly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to Isabella. She took the spotless white handkerchief but did not wipe her tears.

— What on earth could have…

— Reymon. The prophecy yesterday.

— Yes?

Reymon’s eyes went wide at the sudden subject.

— The prophecy that came down last night.

— Yes. What about it?

— ……

— Isabella.

How should she say it? That she was the one the prophecy spoke of. But this was the only place she could turn for help. She could not tell anyone else. Not even her father Henry. Perhaps, if she told the one closest to Avilion, she might receive even a little help. That thought had driven her here the moment the sun rose.

— The one the prophecy is about…

— Yes.

— It’s me.

Her body trembled with fear. She was terrified. Why me? Why had a prophecy about her suddenly come down? What would happen because of it? The future, impossible to see even one step ahead, was frightening beyond bearing.

— What?

— A dark night when not even the moon rises. A woman born from a mournful melody. That’s me.

— ……

— They say it was pitch dark the night my mother gave birth to me. And one of our family’s traditions is that a musician from the house is always at the mother’s side during childbirth.

— ……

— And they sing a song to comfort the mother. On a flute passed down as a family heirloom.

The tears kept falling. But she did not stop speaking.

— That’s why our family name is Piper.

— ……

— Because we are born listening to the sound of that flute.

— How did you know?

— What?

With the most clear-eyed expression she had ever seen on him, Reymon finally spoke after a long silence, and that was what he said.

— How did you know that you’re the one the prophecy is about?

— In a dream. Avilion appeared to me in a dream.

That night when the prophecy came. Telling herself it could not be her, Isabella had gone back to sleep, and in her dream she met Avilion. Someone who looked exactly like the stone statue in the temple appeared and tapped her forehead with a finger. It was the kind of gesture that should have felt unpleasant, but it did not feel unpleasant at all.

The moment that finger touched her, her body felt as though it had been washed clean and cool. She almost felt she was standing alone in a clean and beautiful forest full of trees and grass. The blissful freshness made a smile spread across her face without her realizing it. But Avilion did not smile.

[I am sorry, child.]

The smile that had been spread wide across Isabella’s face slowly faded at those words, spoken in a low voice whose meaning she could not grasp. When at last every trace of a smile had left her face and she was expressionless, Avilion, watching her with what seemed like sorrow, opened his mouth again.

[……I hope it will be different. For your sake.]

“What?”

She could not make sense of it at all. He hoped it would be different. And for my sake?

[And for everyone’s sake.]

With those words, she woke. She found her body drenched in sweat. What kind of dream was that? Her body was trembling even before she could begin to make sense of it. Let me wash first. I’ll think about it after washing, she thought, and pulled the bell cord to call Bailey.

— My lady? It looks like something is on your forehead.

Bailey came in carrying washing water the moment Isabella called for her and asked. Isabella stopped what she was doing and told her to bring a mirror. Bailey’s expression was full of questions, but she followed Isabella’s instruction and brought the mirror over.

— ……

And she saw it. The mark of Avilion etched into her forehead. The mark that every person in the Tenat Empire knew. The moment she saw the mark on her own forehead, she understood.

That she was the one the prophecy of the previous night spoke of.

— Bailey.

— Yes, My lady.

— You must not tell anyone that I have this mark.

— What? But that is Avili…

— Bailey!

— ……

— Don’t tell anyone. Not a soul.

— Yes, My lady.

Bailey nodded at the sight of Isabella’s resolve, a side of her she had never seen before. Isabella washed her face quickly and put on simple outdoor clothes. She had to go to Reymon. When she asked Bailey, who was wondering how to conceal the mark, whether she could cover it with makeup, the mark quietly faded away on its own.

— You had the mark?

— Yes. Right here.

Isabella showed Reymon where the mark had been. The moment Reymon reached out and touched the spot she indicated, the mark appeared again, radiating a pure white light. Just as it had when she first saw it on her forehead upon waking.

— I need to tell the high priest about this…

— No!

— Isabella. This is not something I can handle on my own. The content of the prophecy was not ordinary.

— ……

— It’s only a matter of time before it comes out that you’re the one it speaks of. It would be better to tell the high priest and get his help.

— But I don’t want to. I want to hide it for as long as I can. I haven’t even told Father yet.

She had not told her father. How could she? That his daughter was the one the prophecy that came down last night spoke of. Her father was already struggling with business matters, and she did not want to burden him further with her own troubles. She wanted to wait until he had a little more breathing room. For now, no one knew except herself, Bailey, and Reymon.

— Isabella.

— Yes.

— I know how you feel. But you know too. That it would be better to tell him as soon as possible.

— I will.

She watched Reymon pat her shoulder and offer his advice, then nodded.

— I’ll look through the records on my end. There might be something in the temple library.

— Thank you, Reymon.

— Don’t thank me. It’s going to be all right, Isabella. Don’t worry too much.

Neither Isabella nor Reymon knew, as they exchanged those words. That there was a rat listening in on their conversation.

“Isabella?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Something came to mind for a moment.”

Looking back on it now, she felt the regret keenly. She should have noticed that presence. If she had, the fact that she was the subject of the prophecy would not have spread, and she could have hidden it for as long as possible.

“He’s a close friend, so you needn’t worry. He’s trustworthy.”

“Understood. Then please rest.”

“What? Oh, yes. Thank you. Please rest well too, Your Grace.”

“Yes. Of course.”

With that simple reply and a good night, Declen rose from his seat, picked up the tray he had brought, and disappeared out of the bedchamber. Isabella watched his back vanish with startling speed and slowly made her way to the bed. Lying down on the bed, far larger and softer than her own at the Piper barony, exhaustion came crashing over her.

In the grand duchess’s bedchamber, familiar yet a place she should not have found familiar, Isabella dragged her weary body through a long stretch of tossing and turning before finally managing to fall asleep near dawn.