Whenever Cedric was with Shisha, he always had a lot to say about everything and nothing.

Recently, ever since his visit to Callithea a few months earlier, his favorite subject had been Anita, a girl two years his junior.

“Anita, she’s young, but she already has everything. I knew it the moment I saw her, she has grace, intellect, and such maturity for her age. She’s only six, but even I was surprised. She draws beautifully, speaks several foreign languages and… well, her dancing could use some work, but that’s just because she’s still growing. When she gets older, she’ll dance so gracefully that the court performers won’t be able to compare to her.”

Shisha had heard this story so often that she could recite it herself by now, yet she only smiled gently and patiently as always.

Cedric gazed up at her, thinking he finally understood why his mother’s attendants disliked his nurse.

‘Shisha really is beautiful. When most people stand beside Mother, they fade like shadows, but Shisha never does. She’s the only one who can still catch the eye.’

To be honest, Shisha Yullente was not what anyone would call an obvious choice as the Crown Prince’s nurse. Although she was born into a noble family, they were of little importance; worse still, her parents were foreigners from Callithea.

Shisha herself had lived in Callithea briefly as a child, which, by Laxion’s standards, made her a Callithean through and through.

However, it was more Shisha’s appearance than her background that caused trouble.

Although she had married young and had two children, she was strikingly beautiful, far too young and radiant to be a wet nurse. She was only twenty-five when she became Cedric’s nanny. Without Empress Ines’s compassion or the infant prince’s fondness for clutching her long, silver hair, Shisha would never have been chosen for the role.

Everyone opposed the appointment, but Ines, moved by pity for the grieving woman who had lost both children to illness and had nowhere to return to, overrode them all.

“I will serve the prince as both my master and as my own child.”

Perhaps her devotion was a result of her gratitude for that stroke of luck. She fulfilled her duties flawlessly, tending to Cedric with the obedience of a servant and the warmth of a mother. Her care won the trust of Inès, and although she was gentler than the Empress, Cedric adored her just as much.

‘Shisha and Anita have the same hair color. Their eyes are different, but… maybe Anita will be just as beautiful one day.

Cedric was lost in thoughts of the girl he admired so much when Shisha, who often indulged the prince’s childish moods, let him rest his head on her lap and teased him.

“So, Your Highness truly likes the Princess of Callithea that much?”

“Yes!”

“……”

“I really do. They say that one day I’ll marry her. I’m lucky and blessed.”

Staring up at her silvery hair, Cedric answered without hesitation. Shisha’s lips curved into a bright smile at his sincerity, but her next words came playfully:

“More than me?”

“What?”

“I’m asking if you like the princess more than you like me.”

Caught off guard, Cedric faltered. He liked Anita but he liked Shisha too. If he said Anita, wouldn’t that make Shisha sad? While he hesitated, Shisha burst out laughing.

“It’s all right, Your Highness. Of course you do. The princess of Callithea is to be your future bride. It’s only right that you love her more.”

“Shisha, don’t tease me! I like you very much too. But liking Anita isn’t the same as liking you, so you can’t compare them.”

When he realized that he had been tricked, the boy jumped to his feet, his cheeks flushing crimson. His face showed all his youthful indignation.

“…And what about Her Majesty the Empress. How does she compare?”

At Cedric’s reply, Shisha murmured something under her breath, too softly for him to catch.

“Hmm? What did you say, Shisha?”

“It’s nothing, Your Highness. Just talking to myself.”

Her vague answer only served to pique Cedric’s curiosity. He was about to question her further when Shisha effortlessly diverted his attention, as she always did.

“I’m simply happy, Your Highness. Happy that you and the Princess of Callithea get along so well. I can already picture the two of you together in the future. She’ll be a blessing to you.”

Lately, Anita had been Cedric’s favorite subject, his greatest fascination and just as Shisha intended, his focus shifted immediately to her.

“You’ve always liked Anita, haven’t you? Even before meeting her, you said we’d suit each other perfectly.”

“That’s because she’s the Princess of Callithea. For those of us who follow the Asterian faith, the Princess of Callithea is often seen as the incarnation of the Goddess herself.”

Cedric hesitated.

‘The Asterian faith…’

Because of his mother’s influence, he didn’t have much faith in the Goddess. Whenever Shisha spoke about such matters, he didn’t know how to respond.

Until a couple of years ago, he hadn’t given it much thought. However, the more he learned about politics and religion in the Empire, the more uneasy he became about the subject.

It’s not that he despised those who believed. Far from it. Many people he cared for, such as Anita and Shisha, were devoted followers.

Nevertheless, he could not quite comprehend that kind of faith, that surrender to something unseen.

“Well… Anita is as pretty as a goddess.”

Shisha chuckled softly.

“Ordinarily, that would be blasphemy, Your Highness. But in the case of the Princess of Callithea, I’d say you’re right. She’ll only grow more radiant with time, so radiant she truly will resemble the Goddess herself.”

“……”

“You can tell just by looking at her. The Princess of Callithea is perfection itself. She and Your Highness will make a flawless pair.”

Cedric had noticed before how strange Shisha’s eyes became when she spoke of Anita, how they glimmered with something too intense and fervent. It unsettled him, although he couldn’t explain why. A faint instinct told him to back off, but he pushed the feeling aside and nodded politely.

“…I think so too.”

Everyone else had laughed at the idea of their marriage, dismissing it as a childish fantasy born of their brief time together. But Cedric meant every word. His feelings for Anita were genuine, and he was certain that they would endure.

As he imagined the day when Anita would come to Laxion and stand by his side, he looked up at Shisha and asked earnestly.

“When Anita comes to Laxion someday… you’ll be kind to her too, right? Just like you’ve been to me?”

“……Of course, Your Highness.”

But as she answered, her smile trembled ever so slightly, as though it were a reflection in disturbed water.

Shisha hesitated before nodding. Cedric had expected her to answer immediately, so the brief pause struck him as strange. Still, he merely tilted his head, looking puzzled for a moment, then let it go.

‘Anita will like Shisha too. They’re both so kind. They’ll get along right away.’

Smiling to himself, Cedric started to lower his head again onto Shisha’s lap, but before he could settle, she clapped her hands lightly, stopping him.

“Time to get up, Your Highness. Sir Esaren will be arriving soon for your swordsmanship lesson. You should prepare.”

“Can’t we delay it just a little? I’m hungry.”

Cedric pleaded, his voice soft with the kind of childish affection he never dared show his mother.

Shisha tapped his cheek playfully as she helped him to his feet, shaking her head with mock sternness.

“No, Your Highness. But if you finish your lesson without complaint, I’ll make you a fig pie afterward.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Have I ever broken a promise to you? I even made the jam filling myself.”

At the mention of fig pie, Cedric’s eyes lit up. He stood up so quickly his chair scraped against the floor.

“Then I’ll finish quickly and come back!”

He declared, running toward the door with boyish enthusiasm.

“Your Highness, you must take your attendants with you!”

Shisha laughed and hurried after Cedric. However, she soon slowed her pace when she saw the flustered servants trying to keep up with the child as he darted around. Cedric turned back to wave at her as he ran down the corridor.

She waved back, smiling warmly until he disappeared from view. Only then did she lower her hand, her expression fading into something unreadable.

Glancing around to ensure she was alone, she quietly crossed to the window. Far beyond the gardens, a carrier pigeon cut through the pale afternoon light as it approached.

··· ✦ ···

“Well done, Cedric. Truly splendid.”

Despite being emperor, Charles was a remarkably affectionate father. He often made time for his son, whether that meant reviewing his lessons, sharing meals, or simply sitting together and talking. Although he could be strict when necessary, Cedric always knew that everything he did was motivated by love.

“Thank you, Father.”

Their interactions were easy and natural, free from fear or awkwardness. Cedric only felt uneasy on rare occasions, such as when his father looked him directly in the eye or asked questions that felt heavier than they should have done.

“And your mother, Ines… how is she these days?”

“She’s still busy. Very busy, as always.”

The Emperor and Empress had stopped spending time together a long time ago. Cedric could not remember exactly when it had started, but it had been at least three years. One day, his mother stopped visiting the central palace unless it was absolutely necessary. Soon after that, his father stopped visiting her there, too.

“It was my fault. All of it. Ines, please…”
“Leave.”

“Yes, that must have been the day.”

Cedric remembered the storm outside, with lightning flashing through the windows and wind and rain battering down as if in echo of the tension within. Through the narrow gap in the partly open door, he could see his father kneeling on the floor, begging and crying. His mother stood with her back to him, repeating a single word over and over: ‘Leave.’

After that, they were occasionally seen together at formal meals and ceremonies and on strolls in the gardens, but they never argued in front of him. But even a child could sense what the adults would not say aloud. Cedric could feel the tension in the air whenever the Emperor and Empress appeared in the same room. He noticed how the servants moved more carefully and how their smiles and voices were more subdued.

“Father.”

Cedric said suddenly, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Lost in thought, Charles turned his gaze to his son.

“Yes, Cedric?”

“When you and Mother aren’t so busy… do you think we could all have dinner together again? Like before?”

Cedric looked into his father’s eyes as he asked the question in a small, tentative yet hopeful voice. The Emperor froze, as if he had been struck by something sharp. Then, forcing a faint smile, he reached out and gently ruffled his son’s dark hair.

“I can’t promise. But… I’ll try. I’ll do my best.”

“……”

“I’m sorry, my son.”

There was something in his father’s expression, a quiet exhaustion and sadness that made Cedric’s chest tighten. Although he didn’t fully understand what had happened between his parents, he knew enough to realize that the decision was not his father’s to make.

A flicker of frustration crossed the boy’s heart.

‘Father looks so sad… if only Mother would make time for him.’

He sighed softly, the thought slipping through his mind like a child’s small, helpless wish.