Rigen, who had shouted at the child staring at him, had an angry expression on his face. Klaus, who was sitting next to him, turned to look at his brother. Swan and Mirabella also looked at Rigen in surprise. Meanwhile, Muriel, who had been silently nestling in Swan’s arms with a blank expression on her face, began to twitch her little pouty lips.

The interior of the carriage was soon filled with the sound of crying. Rigen glanced at the child for a moment before looking away awkwardly. Swan called his name softly, “Rigen”, but his anger remained unyielding. His heart pounded furiously in his chest.

“Why were you so mean to the baby?”

“I wasn’t being mean.”

“My child.”

“She was being rude and disrespectful, so I scolded her.”

“When has Myu ever been rude or disrespectful? She dislikes you because you always get angry and stare at her!”

Muriel, who had barely managed to stop crying, sniffled and coughed, looking visibly shaken. Her mother stroked her back, reassuring her. Rigen pressed his lips together, his expression grim. Amid the commotion, Klaus glanced between Rigen and Muriel, then spoke in a teasing tone.

“Looks like Rigen likes her.”

“If he likes her, why is he being so mean?”

“Because Murica doesn’t like Rigen.”

Klaus chuckled, obviously enjoying the situation. Once again he called her Murica. Mirabella quickly corrected him and said, “It’s Muriel.” 

Rigen’s cheeks turned bright red as he looked at his brother, clearly embarrassed.

“It’s not that! It’s because she’s ugly, rude and stupid!”

“Rigen, enough.”

Swan called her son’s name firmly, her voice heavy with authority. Klaus, meanwhile, continued to chuckle, clearly amused. Unable to contain his frustration, Rigen jumped out of the carriage as soon as it stopped. He wanted to run somewhere where Muriel couldn’t be seen, but there was nowhere he could escape her presence.

His father, seeing his son’s agitated expression as he ran over, grabbed his arm and asked calmly, “What’s wrong?”

Rigen couldn’t answer immediately. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt a surge of anger towards a child of only three. He was angry, but the memory of her crying kept coming back, making him feel guilty. But every time he remembered how she had rejected him, the anger would flare up again. It was an exhausting cycle.

“What happened, Rigen? Why did you make your mother and sister angry?”

Trembling slightly, Rigen finally answered in a quiet voice.

“I don’t like her.”

“What?”

“I don’t like to see her. She cried in the carriage… and I made her cry. But…”

“Rigen.”

“I’m angry… because she keeps disliking me.”

Rigen muttered, staring down at the ground before looking up briefly. His gaze landed on Muriel, being carried in Swan’s arms towards the *cabin*, her cheeks flushed. Startled, he quickly lowered his eyes to the floor. His father, Atlion, looked at him with a heavy expression.

“I am a prince, but she, a mere commoner, dares to dislike me. When I tried to hold her, she should’ve stayed still, but instead she whimpered and tried to go back to mother.”

Rigen bit his lip as the words came out, his breathing uneven. Atlion reached out and gently pinched his son’s still chubby cheek. The boy’s pale skin, untouched by the sun, contrasted sharply with his dark hair. His mismatched eyes – one a striking silver-grey, the other green – stood out prominently.

Rigen was a striking presence, even for a child. Within the palace, his appearance was a frequent topic of admiration. Many speculated that as he grew, he would become a dazzlingly handsome young man, inheriting the late Empress Dowager’s beauty and his father’s commanding presence. 

As a result, there was hardly anyone in the palace who didn’t adore the princes – especially Rigen. He was especially popular. 

Moreover, with his naturally high status, Rigen had never considered the possibility that someone might reject him. A three year old. While children of that age were rare in the palace, there was Calyps’s daughter, so it wasn’t just the novelty of Theodor’s child that had caught his attention.

“She’s just a baby, that’s why. If you act scary, she’ll be afraid of you.”

Rigen lifted his head cautiously.

“But I tried to be nice…”

“You must be even nicer.”

“H-how do I do that?”

“Tell her you like her. Kiss her cheek too.”

Rigen’s cheeks turned bright red.

‘This is something girls do… I am a boy.A knight. A prince who may one day be an emperor… How could I do such a thing?’

It should be Muriel doing this to him, not the other way around.

“Muriel should do it to me.”

“If you do it first, Muriel will.”

“But what if she refuses me? What if she says she doesn’t like me?”

“Hmm. Then there’s nothing you can do.”

“I’m a prince! I’m your son! No one can reject me! You said it yourself – an emperor’s son…”

“It’s different when it comes to girls you like, you like her, don’t you?”

Atlion pushed his son’s head gently, and Rigen, startled, fell silent. His lips curled into a pout, frustration and embarrassment written all over his face. Atlion chuckled softly.

“Muriel might be a commoner, but since you like her, she’s now ‘the girl you like’. That’s why you have to treat her well – always.” 

Rigen looked at Atlion, then nodded slowly. Atlion gently stroked his son’s black hair, which fell across his forehead. His eight year old son now had a girl he liked. It felt strange. For the first time, Atlion found himself patting the back of his son who had been rejected by the girl he liked, his shoulders drooping in disappointment.

“Treat her well, so she doesn’t run away.”

Don’t wander like me, he thought to himself. If you wander too long after the woman you love, the lost time will leave wounds that linger. But the words remained unspoken, circling silently in his heart. They were meaningless for now; his eight-year-old son wouldn’t understand.

Atlion took Rigen’s hand and walked with him to Swan. Theo’s child still had tear-filled eyes, shimmering as if about to cry again.

—

Muriel, even in Swan’s arms, didn’t stop sniffling so easily. In the palace, she had nibbled at an apple pie with a blank expression, not even asking for her mother. But in the cabin, she continued to sniffle, even as she chewed on a spoonful of stew. 

Rigen pretended not to care, but kept looking at the child. Each time his green, round eyes met hers, his shoulders twitched slightly.

Swan, feeling guilty that her son had made Theo’s child cry, had given up her lunch to comfort her. Atlion, unable to watch any longer, tried to take the child and give her to a servant. But Swan insisted that a servant who had never held a child wouldn’t know how to comfort a crying child, and resolutely kept the child in her arms.

Atlion hid his unease as he watched Swan. He had hoped to spend a peaceful lunch together. Lately, his responsibilities had increased, leaving him little time for his wife and children. He had come to the cabin to enjoy some family time, only to have it interrupted by a crying child.

But what could he do? Thinking back, it was all his son Rigen’s fault. As he watched Swan try to feed the child, holding a spoon to her mouth, Atlion held out his hand.

“Give her to me.”

Swan looked at him startled, but he took the child gently but firmly into his arms. Muriel stopped sniffling in surprise and looked up at him. Atlion wiped her tear-stained cheeks with the back of his hand and whispered softly, “Shh,” as he patted her gently on the back. 

Rigen kept looking at Muriel, who was now standing right next to him, before his eyes met his father’s.

“Be nice to the baby.”

Rigen hesitated, pressing his lips together tightly before slowly extending his hand. Seeing his hand approach, Muriel buried her face in Atlion’s chest. Rigen’s hand stopped in mid-air. 

“It’s all right.”

Atlion whispered reassuringly. At his father’s words, Rigen gently patted the child’s head. Her soft, auburn hair shimmered warmly in the sunlight. Encouraged, Rigen continued to stroke her head before moving to her back and shoulders. 

Muriel did not lift her head. Atlion looked down at the child in his arms, who had stopped trembling and was now limp. Her steady, even breathing suggested that she had fallen asleep. 

“Sit down.”

After calling for a maid to take the sleeping child, he finally sat down to eat. Rigen’s eyes followed the maid as she carried Muriel away. Meanwhile, Klaus, noticing his twin brother’s unusually strange behaviour, chuckled softly. 

Rigen’s face hardened when he saw his brother’s reaction. 

Mirabella sighed deeply. Babies were all lovely, but now her two brothers just seemed silly and stupid. She wished her parents had given her two younger sisters instead – sweet and pretty girls like Muriel. Boys were completely useless.

Her mother had always said the boys would grow up to be strong and noble knights, just like their father. But to Mirabella that seemed far from reality. They were both such fools – how could they become knights?

If one of them took the throne, the whole kingdom might collapse. At this point, it might be better for her to devote herself to her father’s legacy instead. Stifling another sigh, she took a spoonful of stew.

—

Muriel’s mother was wearing a lavender dress. She didn’t seem to be used to wearing crinolines, as the cinched waist made it difficult for her to walk. 

Rigen watched the woman with a white neck and rounded shoulders, much like his mother’s. She wore her long auburn hair low on her head, adorned with pearls, sapphires and pale pink peonies. Everything she wore and decorated was suitable for a noblewoman, but it was said that she wasn’t of noble birth. It didn’t matter to him.

His father had given her access to the palace. Regardless of her status, no one could question someone who had entered by the Emperor’s solemn decree. Rigen took another look at the woman called Celia Dianton.

Her youthful, smiling face was beautiful and graceful, resembling his mother in some ways. But she didn’t have the same air as the noble ladies of the court. Still, her warm, gentle smile, reminiscent of Muriel’s, made her truly breathtaking.