On a vibrant corner of the city, Kaelen sat upon a simple wooden chair at the edge of the thoroughfare. Before him sat a low, sturdy table, where a man had just stood up and walked away with a hollow, downcast look.
Rose stepped forward from the shadows of the crowd, her silhouette elegant in her new festival attire. She leaned down toward Kaelen as she placed a hand near his ear.
“Kaelen, you have to give them a sliver of hope to get more mone—I mean, rivals,” she whispered, her eyes gleaming with a predatory, golden greed. “Don’t just win by the second; it is bad for the business of destiny.”
“When did you become a poet?” Kaelen gave a short nod. “But well—got it.”
The game was a display of raw force—arm-wrestling—a contest that prohibited any skills or aura-reinforcement. For Kaelen, who possessed no skills to speak of but held an ‘Existence’ that defied mortal logic, it was a guaranteed path to victory.
“Next participant! Step up, place your bets, and test your fate!” the stall owner bellowed, his voice cracking with the excitement of a man watching a gold mine in human form.
The next challenger, a man built like an ox with arms as thick as tree trunks, slammed his coins onto the table and sat. He gripped Kaelen’s hand, bracing himself for the clash.
“Start!”
With the shout, the man’s face contorted with effort. Kaelen allowed his arm to tremble slightly, a performance that made the crowd lean in with bated breath, their hearts thumping in sync with the perceived tension.
He let his hand tilt toward the table, inches from defeat, before, with a sudden, controlled slam, he pinned the challenger's hand to the wood.
“The winner is Sir Kaelen!”
As the owner announced the victory, Rose’s hands moved with instinctive speed—sweeping the pile of wagered coins into her embrace like a hawk claiming its kill, a satisfied smirk blooming on her lips.
---
A few steps away, a different kind of anomaly was unfolding—one governed not by strength, but by a luck so unnatural it felt like a celestial glitch.
“And the color iiiissss… Black!”
The crowd’s eyes widened in disbelief as the wheel stopped. They peered closely at the table, checking for hidden magnets or spectral threads, yet they found only the wooden wheel.
Lucien stood there with a nonchalant smirk, his fingers drumming rhythmically against the edge of the betting table.
Who knew my luck was this good? he thought before closing his eyes. Thank god Lady Vionette told me to give the games of chance a try. Now I can impress Elan!
“Lucien, you won again!” Elan jumped onto his back, her arms wrapping around his neck as a genuine smile lit up her face.
“How much do we have now?” Lucien asked, his eyes crinkling as he felt her warmth against his back.
“Thirty-two gold coins in total… and one hundred and forty-two silver,” Elan whispered, her eyes wide as she clutched the heavy pouch.
“Okay then.” Lucien grabbed the bag and slid the entire weight of their fortune onto the red square. “Put it all on red this time!”
…
With their pockets heavy and their hearts light, the four began to navigate the sea of people.
Kaelen, Lucien, and Rose led the way. Elan, however, trailed a few steps behind, her shoulders tense. Lucien turned his head slightly, his red eyes catching her hesitation. He slowed his pace, his shadow merging with hers until they walked in unison.
He leaned down, his voice a low, intimate murmur in her ear. “Don’t fall behind, Elan. They aren’t going to eat you.”
“But…” she whispered, her hand pressed nervously against her chest.
“No buts.” He placed a finger over her lips. “Or I won’t give you any more kisses for the rest of the night.”
Elan’s head snapped away from his touch, her cheeks flushing a rosy hue. It was quickly replaced by a momentary flash of feisty defiance, her demeanor shifting as if she were Lucien’s boss.
“Hmph! Who wants your kisses anyway? You’re the one who forced me to kiss you earlier!”
“We’ll go with that then,” Lucien chuckled teasingly.
She’ll think she’s in a dream if she ever sees how ‘those two’ act despite their titles. He placed his palms behind his head, making a bemused face before smiling to himself, already imagining Elan’s reaction.
“Hey! Miss Rose! Miss Rose!” A high-pitched shout tore through the festive atmosphere.
They turned to see Elina and Lina charging toward them, their arms overflowing with an architectural feat of food. Trays of meat, mountains of candy, and skewers of fruit were stacked so high they practically reached the girls' chins.
“You two… what is… this?” Rose asked, her eyes darting between the food and the two girls.
“Ih’s foud to eut, wmy?” Elina asked, her mouth half-full, while her draconic tail held a large lollipop, occasionally bringing it to her lips for a lick.
“Eat first before talking!” Rose shouted, the frustration she usually reserved for Noa and Vionette now spilling over onto the younger pair.
As the chaotic exchange unfolded, Elan’s face twisted into a mask of pure confusion. The rumored dragon of Crimvane stood right in front of her, yet the creature looked more like a spoiled, hungry brat than a world-shaking monster.
“Miss Rose… what are you guys doing?” Lina spoke up, looking at the frustrated Rose with curious eyes. “Can we join in too?”
Rose looked at her, the rejection dying in her throat. Under the weight of Lina’s cute, expectant gaze, the words of refusal simply refused to surface.
“Who is that beside the dragon? Is she another dragon?” Elan whispered to Lucien.
“No,” he sighed quietly, shaking his head. “That’s Lord Noa’s little sister, Lina Ravel.”
“What?!” Elan leaned back in stunned disbelief. Lucien quickly tapped her back, trying to anchor her before she could faint.
“Hello guys~! How are you doing?”
This time, the greeting came from the other side of the crossroads. Immediately upon hearing that familiar, melodic voice, Rose dragged a hand down her face in a gesture of weary resignation.
Vionette was resting her head against Noa’s shoulder, her arm intimately entwined with his. Both of their faces glowed with a private joy that felt entirely separate from the festival around them.
Lina narrowed her eyes, placing two fingers beneath her chin in a mock-detective pose. “Why are you guys too happy? Did something happen while you were alone?”
Noa smiled, though his eyes flickered with a dangerous light that contrasted the sweetness of his expression. He let out a low laugh. “Why do you want to know, you brat?”
“N—nothing… just keep up the good work?” Lina backed off, raising her hands in surrender.
While Noa was occupied with Lina, Elan stared at him with a potent mixture of confusion and fear.
Why is he talking to her like that? Doesn’t he know she’s His Majesty’s sister? She looked at Kaelen, then Rose, and finally at Lucien. If this goes on… but why isn’t anyone getting angry at him?
“He won’t act like it, but that’s Lord Noa,” Lucien said softly, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders. “Just get used to it.”
“That’s… him?” Elna looked at Lucien before turning back. “Then that must be—”
Elan shifted her gaze toward the woman beside Noa, only for her heart to skip a beat. A pair of crimson eyes were already fixed on her. Elan’s eyes widened in terror; it felt as though invisible silk threads were being woven directly around her soul, yanking her into a state of submission.
“Who is this?” Vionette asked, her head tilting curiously as she lifted it from Noa’s shoulder.
“This is the girlfriend I mentioned, Lady Vionette,” Lucien said, gesturing gently toward Elan. “I invited her here to join us. That won’t be a problem, will it?”
The moment Vionette blinked, the suffocating pressure immediately vanished. Elan gasped, regaining her breath as her head snapped down toward the ground, staring at the cobblestones as if they were the only safe anchor left in the world.
“Oh, that’s her? You two look so identical, almost like siblings.” Vionette stepped toward Elan with a warm, disarming smile. “If you trust her, of course she can come with us anytime. We don’t mind at all.”
“Elan? Elan?”
“Ah—yes?” Lucien gave her a gentle shake, and she finally snapped out of her trance. “It is an honor to meet Your Majesties! Please forgive my insolence!” She instantly dropped to one knee on the dirt.
“Dude…” Vionette looked at her, her posture slumping in exhaustion. “Get up. I don’t want that formal shit from you guys.”
“…Yes.” Elan stood up with a wary expression, the terror of that earlier sensation still lingering in the back of her mind.
“Lucien, my dude.” Noa leaned in, dropping an elbow onto Lucien’s shoulder with a mischievous smirk. “So… have you guys done ‘that’ yet or not?”
“No, not yet. But why are you asking this, of all people?” Lucien raised an eyebrow.
“He is right, Lord Noa… you two have zero right to ask that,” Kaelen added, staring at Noa with a face of blank judgment.
“I mean, it’s true! You two get flustered over the smallest things, and then the next minute you’re doing something a hundred times more embarrassing in public!” Elina nodded vigorously, throwing her hands up in dramatic frustration. “And then the next time, the roles reverse! What kind of emotional whiplash is that?!”
“Huh? When the fuck did that happen—OUCH!” Suddenly, Rose’s fist descended upon the top of Noa’s head.
“Keep your language in check, you idiot. There are kids listening,” she hissed.
“Oh, c’mon! Those two rascals don’t act like ‘little kids’ to me!”
That’s because you two keep doing stuff like that in front of them! Rose wanted to shout the words aloud, but she knew the argument would backfire the moment they found out about her arm-wrestling hustle.
‘Just go with it,’ he said… but how am I supposed to accept this? Elan looked from one person to the next, her face a portrait of pure bewilderment. Are these really the people who turned the tides of the war? A hungry dragon; a cute, pouting girl; a money-addicted maid and knight duo; and two carefree rulers who seem to exist entirely in their own world?
“Anyways, what were you guys going to do?” Vionette patted Elan’s confused shoulder as she looked at the others. “If you don't have plans, let’s go do some stuff together.”
“We…” Rose glanced around, her mind still lingering on her coin pouch. “Actually, we were trying to figure out what to do, too.”
Vionette smiled, giving a light, cheerful clap of her hands. “Great! Then let’s all go together… but first,” she looked up at the towering building they had stayed in earlier, “let’s get one more person.”
***
On one of the balconies of the grand building—above the swirling lights and chaotic joy of the commoners’ festival—Seliora stood alone. Her elbows rested against the cold stone balustrade, one hand cradling a glass of dark-red wine while the other was positioned beneath her chin.
She observed the festival below like a goddess watching a flickering constellation, taking a slow, deliberate sip of her wine.
[Blink]
“It’s a beautiful night to spend down there. So what are you doing up here?” Seliora turned around with a knowing smile. “…Noa?”
“What are you thinking about so deeply?” Noa asked, closing the distance between them.
“Nothing… just some old memories.” She swirled the red liquid in her glass.
Noa stepped up to the balustrade, planted his elbows beside hers, and leaned forward to look down at the vibrant streets below. “That new haircut looks good on you. Try to keep it if you can.”
“Really?” Seliora placed her wine glass on the stone ledge before running a hand through her hair. “Well, Then I suppose I'll keep it.” She turned fully toward him. “But Noa, you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Mmm… yeah, I came up here to get you.” He straightened up and stepped closer to her. “We didn’t have that outfit made just so you could drink up here alone, now did we?”
Seliora covered her lips with a hand, letting out a fond, elegant laugh. “Fair enough. Did my sister send you? She’s always so thoughtful.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment before extending a hand toward him with the flawless grace of high-born royalty. “Very well, then. Take me to the party.”
Noa took her hand, going with the flow of the moment. He spun her around smoothly, the fine fabric of her dress twirling like a blooming flower, before sweeping one arm behind her knees and the other across her back, lifting her into an effortless princess carry.
“Really strong, aren’t you?” Seliora placed her hands flat against his chest, anchoring herself as she looked into his eyes. “Is this how you always carry my sister?”
“Most of the time.”
[Blink]
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