What Meliover held in her hand was a small, square identification tag made of iron. On the tag was engraved the word “Fluke,” and beneath it, a small whale was etched. Dangling from the tag was a tiny pendant shaped like a whale’s tail.

“What’s this pendant?”

“It’s modeled after a whale’s tail.”

“A whale’s tail?”

“Yes. Whale tails are a symbol of good luck. I wanted to send a bit of that luck with your father whenever he went off to war.”

Breti knew that whale tails were considered lucky, but this was the first time she’d heard the story behind it. Meliover gently stroked the small, square tag as she spoke.

“‘Fluke’ means a stroke of luck, or a ball hit by chance.”

“A ball hit by chance?”

“Yes. I would give this pendant to your father whenever he left for war, wishing that if danger ever came his way, the pendant would take the blow for him—and he would return unharmed.”

“…”

“Your father always carried it close to his heart and never once came home with the pendant broken.”

Tears glimmered in Meliover’s eyes—she was clearly thinking of her late husband.

Breti quietly reached out and held Meliover’s hand.

At last, Meliover managed a gentle smile and handed the identification tag to Breti.

“What do you think about making one of these for your brother?”

“For him?”

“Yes, I’ll show you how.”

Breti’s eyes began to shine with excitement.

“Really?”

Smiling softly, Meliover pushed a dress catalog toward her.

“But first, let’s pick out a gown for the ball coming up.”

Suddenly realizing she’d nearly forgotten, Breti hurried to examine the catalog Meliover offered her.

‘Get it together, Breti.’

Yet her gaze kept drifting back to the pouch Meliover had taken out.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

That night, well past midnight, a sudden downpour began.

Karsten, working late in his office, dozed off just as the rain started. He had only just slumped in his chair when, all at once, his eyes snapped open and he rose abruptly from his seat.

“Oh no, there’s not enough time.”

Karsten—no, Adrian—muttered in disappointment as he watched the rain batter the window.

Without hesitation, he stepped out of his office, only to be intercepted by Benon.

“Your Grace, I have a report to make.”

“A report?”

Adrian frowned at Benon. With so little time left, any delay was intolerable.

“It’s regarding Foldron—”

“Later. Not now.”

“Pardon?”

Benon blinked in confusion. He had expected Adrian to demand an immediate update.

“Go.”

“Your Grace…”

“Did you not hear me, Benon?”

Just then, lightning flashed, and Adrian’s teal eyes glinted sharply.

“Come back in the morning.”

His voice was icy, making Benon shrink back, bowing hurriedly out of the way.

Adrian hurried past him, quickening his pace.

‘Hurry…’

He could sense, almost instinctively, that the rain was about to stop.

‘I have to go before he wakes up.’

Feeling Karsten fighting to the surface, Adrian sped up even more. He climbed the stairs to the floor where Breti’s room was located.

Outside, the rain was gradually subsiding.

And then—

“What a shame.”

Adrian let out a quiet laugh, gazing at Breti’s door.

“Looks like I won’t get to see her tonight.”

His eyes fluttered shut, and a moment later, Karsten staggered, clutching his head in confusion. He winced, glancing around the corridor.

‘Why am I…?’

He remembered dozing off at his desk in the office, but how had he ended up here? Right in front of Breti’s room, no less!

Feeling unsettled, Karsten hurried away.

‘Something’s not right.’

Suddenly, a memory from the Servien estate flashed through his mind.

‘That time, too…’

He hadn’t done anything, but found the room in disarray, and his whole body soaked as if he’d been caught in the rain.

Karsten hurried his pace, trying to piece things together.

When he finally returned to his office, he found Benon waiting at the door.

“Benon, what is it at this hour?”

“Well…”

Uncharacteristically, Benon trailed off, as if reluctant to speak.

Karsten frowned.

“If you have something to say, say it clearly.”

“I wanted to update you on the intruder in Foldron, but since you were busy, I thought I’d wait until you returned to report it to you straight away.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Your Grace. You told me to wait until morning to give my report.”

Karsten frowned at Benon’s words.

“Come in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Karsten entered his office first, Benon following behind.

‘I told him to wait until morning?’

Karsten swept a hand through his hair, bewildered by the strange turn of events.

‘Maybe I should ask the physician for something…’

Pressing his fingers to his eyes, he tried to collect himself.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

Breti hadn’t slept a wink all night. She had spent the night making the pouch that Meliover had taught her to make. Now, she placed the lucky identification tag that her mother had given her inside it. If Karsten was really about to leave for war, she wanted to see him off with as much luck and protection as possible.

Ignoring her fatigue, she clutched the hand-sewn pouch tightly and made her way to his office.

Standing before his door, she took a steadying breath and knocked.

“Who is it?”

Karsten’s low voice sounded from inside.

“It’s Laterna.”

For a split second, she almost said “Breti,” but just managed to correct herself.

“Come in.”

Wearing a gentle smile, Breti entered the room.

“Oh, good morning!”

But Karsten wasn’t alone in his office.

Seated together on the sofa was Sierra—his would-be fiancée. Seeing them there, Breti instinctively tightened her grip on the pouch in her hand.

“Oh, I must have come at a bad time. I’m sorry.”

Sierra, sitting across from Karsten, looked up and greeted her with a gentle smile.

“It’s been a while since we saw each other at the dress shop. I’m Sierra.”

“…I’m Laterna.”

Sierra approached, still smiling brightly, and Breti quickly hid the pouch behind her back.

“I hope we’ll see each other often from now on!”

“…Ah, yes.”

Hearing Sierra’s bright, clear voice, Breti’s expression stiffened as her thoughts raced.

‘This is how it should be…’

It was Sierra who should be giving something to Karsten. Who was she, to think she had the right?

Realizing she was overstepping her bounds, Breti hurriedly turned to leave.

“Well, I’ll just be going…”

“Laterna, are you leaving without saying why you came?”

Karsten’s gentle voice echoed in her ears, stirring her heart.

She pressed the pouch tighter in her hand, feeling her heart beat painfully fast.

“Oh, it was nothing.”

With that, Breti quickly exited the room.

“Laterna—”

She heard him call after her, but she didn’t turn back. Closing the door behind her, she clutched the pouch tightly and hurried toward her own room.

‘Why…’
‘Why does it hurt so much, just seeing the two of them together like that?’

Why did she feel this way? Breti quickened her pace, shaking her head as if to drive the thoughts away.

‘Don’t think about it.’
‘Don’t, Breti. Never.’

Meanwhile, back in the office, Karsten was making polite conversation with Sierra when he suddenly realized that Breti’s expression hadn’t looked right. He rose abruptly from his seat.

“Your Grace?”

Sierra called out, worried he might leave.

“At this ball, I’d like to have your escort.”

Sierra said quickly. After all, that was the reason she had come — to secure Karsten as her escort for the Imperial Ball. If she failed again, she would be subjected to another round of icy stares and whispers from the other ladies. Just the thought made her bristle with discomfort.

‘This time, I have to succeed!’

But Karsten didn’t hesitate.

“If that’s your request, I’m afraid I can’t give you the answer you want, my lady.”

“Why not?”

“My sister will be making her debut at this Imperial Ball. I must escort her.”

Once again, Sierra received an answer she didn’t want to hear.