She fought because the Emperor commanded it. She fought because she was born a Princess. She fought because it was her duty. She simply assumed she had absolutely no other choice. She assumed she had to win. She never stopped to think about her own personal dream. She never formed a real, personal desire for the crown.
Princess Iris looked down at the wooden floorboards. She felt a deep, profound sense of shock. Her entire foundation felt suddenly shaky. She was fighting a war on pure momentum.
Ken stopped smiling. The goofy, slacker expression faded from his face for just a single second. He looked at her. He saw the shock in her violet eyes. He saw the internal crisis. His dark eyes turned incredibly serious. He watched her silently. He gave her the quiet space to process her thoughts. He knew he had just asked a massive, life-changing question.
The living room remained totally silent. Naomi looked at Iris with concern. Sayma pushed her glasses up, looking worried.
Iris took a slow, deep breath. She looked back up at Ken. She did not have a grand speech. She did not have a confident answer. She just looked incredibly stunned.
Ken saw her struggling. He knew she needed an escape route. He instantly put his lazy, goofy mask right back on his face. He slouched his shoulders as far as they could go. He smiled his massive, ridiculous smile.
"I get it," Ken joked loudly, breaking the intense silence. He waved his hand dismissively. "You do not have a master plan. You are just running on autopilot. You just woke up one day and started fighting bad guys. You are exactly like the other royals. Just cruising on autopilot."
He turned around and walked back toward the sofa. He dragged his shoes on the floor. Scuff. Scuff. Scuff.
"I totally respect the autopilot lifestyle," Ken mumbled lazily. He flopped down onto the cushions. He grabbed his bag of potato chips. "It saves a lot of mental energy. Just follow the road and see where it goes. Now, Naomi, can I please have those chips back? I need to finish my snack before my cartoon starts."
---
Zinia stood in the middle of the training yard. The bright afternoon sun shined down on the dirt. The heat was very intense. Sweat rolled down her forehead. She did not wipe it away. She focused her mind entirely on her physical task.
She raised her strong arms. She lifted a massive, solid boulder completely over her head. The rock was incredibly large. It weighed as much as a small carriage. Zinia did not use any earth magic to lighten the load. She used pure, raw muscle. She lowered the boulder slowly to her chest. She pushed it back up into the sky.
She repeated this motion over and over again. She liked lifting rocks. The repetitive movement calmed her mind. It kept her thoughts totally quiet.
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Zinia finished her final repetition. She dropped the massive boulder. It hit the dirt with a loud, resounding thud. A cloud of gray dust puffed into the warm air. She grabbed a white towel from a nearby wooden bench. She wiped the sweat from her face and neck.
She looked toward the main house of the 13th Unit estate.
The large glass windows of the living room were wide open. Zinia could see her teammates inside. The living room was full of life and noise. Laxmi tossed a tiny orange spark of fire into the air and laughed loudly. Naomi sat on the sofa. The red-haired vanguard leader smiled a very warm, bright smile. Sayma sat at the dining table, politely pushing her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose. Risa giggled and drew a picture on the rug.
They looked like a very happy, perfectly connected family.
Zinia smiled a small, fond smile. She loved her team. She truly cared about Princess Iris and every single girl in the unit. She gladly acted as their shield. She gladly took massive hits to protect them.
But Zinia did not walk inside to join them.
She took a slow step backward. she sat down on the wooden bench in the training yard. She draped the towel over her strong shoulders. She stared at the dirt. She felt a very familiar, quiet ache in her chest.
Zinia felt totally invisible.
It was not a new feeling. It was a very old, deeply rooted sensation. She had felt invisible for her entire life. It was her core identity.
Zinia grew up in a very large, chaotic noble household. She was one of five siblings. She had two older brothers and two younger twin sisters. Her siblings were all incredibly loud. They were very flashy. Her older brothers used dazzling, explosive lightning magic. They constantly bragged about their skills. They demanded attention from everyone in the room. Her younger sisters used bright, sparkling light magic. They danced and sang. They were the absolute center of attention at every single family party.
Zinia was the middle child. She was the quiet one. She did not use flashy lightning or sparkling light. She used simple, solid earth magic. She liked rocks. She liked dirt. She did not boast. She did not shout.
Because she was quiet, she simply faded into the background. She blended in with the walls of her own home.
Zinia remembered a very specific day from her childhood. It was a major holiday in the capital city. The house was decorated beautifully. A very wealthy, important uncle came to visit the family.
The uncle walked through the front doors. He carried a large sack of beautifully wrapped gifts. He laughed a booming laugh. He called all the children into the grand foyer. Zinia stood in a neat line with her four siblings. She wore her best dress. Her heart fluttered with innocent excitement. She wondered what kind of toy she would get.
The uncle reached into his sack.
He pulled out a shiny, expensive toy sword. He handed it to her oldest brother. The brother cheered loudly and swung the sword in the air. The uncle reached into the sack again. He pulled out a beautiful magical compass. He gave it to her second brother. The brother thanked him proudly.
The uncle dug into the very bottom of the sack. He pulled out two identical, sparkling dolls. He handed them to the younger twin sisters. The twins squealed with pure joy. They hugged the dolls tightly.
The uncle clapped his hands together. He brushed off his expensive coat.
"Well, that is everyone!" the uncle announced happily. He smiled at her parents. "All four children have their gifts. Now, let us go into the dining room and drink some premium tea."
Zinia stood at the very end of the line. She kept her hands held out slightly. She waited for a box. She waited for a toy. She looked at the uncle's empty hands.
The uncle did not look at her. He turned around and walked into the dining room. Her parents smiled and followed him. They did not correct the uncle. They did not say they had five children. They simply forgot she was standing right there.
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