Several days had passed since the conversation in the Stargazing Garden. The lonely expression Leon had shown. And Walter's face, twisted with complex emotions, as he stood in the shadows of the corridor. That night wouldn't leave Mireille's mind. (What was His Highness Walter feeling?) In the original game, Walter Filtina was depicted as a thoroughly emotionless "cold guardian." He was not a character who displayed his feelings openly. Yet the real Walter had pressed his fist against the wall and muttered, "Just who is she?" That fact had been nagging at her ever since. The night at Rêve Blanche Castle wore a completely different face than the day. The corridors that were filled with the footsteps of guards and the chatter of maids during the day fell silent as glass at night. The Moonlit Corridor was no exception. Mireille walked through that corridor alone. A corridor with a glass ceiling spanning one hundred twenty meters. Tonight the sky was clear, and the moon hung high. White light poured down, painting geometric patterns of illumination on the polished stone floor. Rose bushes were planted along both walls, their petals glowing translucently in the moonlight. It was beautiful, she thought simply. Queen Consort Katarina's movements. Rumors that the Jade Chamber had been making contact with various noble ladies recently. Less than two weeks remained until the Holy Light Festival. There was so much to think about. But tonight, she decided to stop thinking for just a little while and simply walk. (This kind of time is necessary too.) That was her judgment. Thinking with a cornered mind would yield no decent strategy. Halfway down the corridor, she heard footsteps. Approaching from the other direction. One person's footsteps. At a brisk tempo, but carrying something slightly heavy—that kind of sound. The moment Mireille stopped, a silhouette appeared within the patterns of moonlight. It was Leon Filtina. He walked through the Moonlit Corridor with a large bundle of documents cradled in both arms. His chestnut hair was softly illuminated by the moonlight, and his amber eyes widened slightly in surprise when they recognized Mireille. "Mireille... out for a walk at this late hour?" "I had some things on my mind. I thought I'd take a stroll." "Ah, I understand that." Leon gave a wry smile. "I'm the same way. Or rather, to be honest, my paperwork never ended, so I escaped from my room..." "You escaped, yet you're carrying the documents with you." "...You noticed." Leon laughed helplessly. That smile was less like a crown prince and more like a student carrying homework around. "Well, I thought I'd work on them while escaping. But by the time I got here, I'd completely lost the motivation to read them." "Then... did your escape serve any purpose?" "None whatsoever." The two laughed without thinking. In the moonlight, they talked about trivial things for a while. About the silence of the castle at night, about the weather this time of year. And then, as Leon tried to adjust the bundle of documents in his arms— The stack shifted. One page, then two—papers scattered across the stone floor with a rustling sound. "Oh—!" "Let me help." Mireille quickly bent down. At the same time, Leon reached out to pick them up. Their hands overlapped. It was just a moment. Their fingertips barely touched. But the moment both of them realized it, they pulled their hands back as if struck by electricity. "I-I'm sorry!" "N-No—" Both of them stepped back. In doing so, Mireille's heel caught on the edge of the stone floor. Her balance crumbled. "Ah—!" Leon's arm reflexively extended. He grabbed Mireille's arm and pulled her toward him. She didn't fall. But—the distance between them had become zero. The way Leon held Mireille looked, no matter how you looked at it, like he was embracing her. Moonlight illuminated them both. The scent of roses. The silent corridor. Mireille's face flushed hot. (N-No, this is just a fall, just an accident, calm down—!) Leon's face was also red. He was clearly flustered. "A-Are you alright...?" "Y-Yes... thank you." She thought they should separate. But her legs wouldn't obey. Her mind was blank. In that moment— "Brother!" A low voice echoed through the corridor. The two sprang apart as if struck. They jumped backward, nearly stepping on the scattered documents on the floor. Mireille hurriedly straightened her posture. Her heart wouldn't stop pounding. Walter Filtina stood at the entrance of the corridor. Silver hair. Eyes as transparent and cold as ice. A tall frame of one hundred eighty-five centimeters. In the night corridor, his presence appeared all the sharper. The white scar on his left cheek floated in the moonlight. His eyes moved back and forth between Mireille and Leon. His expression didn't move. But that made it all the more frightening. It was the face of someone desperately suppressing something. "Walter, this is a misunderstanding," Leon spoke up immediately. His face was serious. "Mireille stumbled, and I merely caught her. That's truly all it was." Walter was silent for a moment. "...I see." Three words. Completely flat, devoid of any emotion. Yet those three words conveyed something strongly. Walter turned on his heel. "Forgive my intrusion. I shall take my leave." "Wait—" Mireille called out without thinking. Walter's footsteps stopped. But he didn't turn around. "Your Highness, it truly is a misunderstanding. The documents fell, our hands touched, and in that moment I stumbled—" "...I understand." His voice was low. Even as he said "I understand," there was something in that voice. "Then, good night." With only those words, Walter walked away. His silver hair dissolved into the moonlight. His footsteps faded. Soon only the silence of the corridor remained. Mireille and Leon looked at each other. "..." "..." After several seconds of silence, Leon held his head in his hands. "Ah... I've given my younger brother a strange misunderstanding." "No, it was my carelessness." "It's my fault for dropping the documents. Completely." "I'm the one who stumbled." "In the first place, I'm the root cause for wandering around at midnight with a mountain of documents—" "And I was the one taking a solitary walk through the corridor at night—" Both fell silent at the same time. Another brief pause. Then, from neither direction in particular, they both laughed softly. Despite the situation, it was strangely possible to laugh. "...But," Leon's expression clouded slightly. "I'm worried about Walter. I may have made him feel something unpleasant." Mireille recalled Walter's expression from moments before. It was the face of someone suppressing their emotions. Agitated, yet trying not to show it. That kind of face. "...Your Highness, does His Highness Walter normally make that kind of expression?" Leon seemed to consider for a moment. "Walter is... fundamentally a man who doesn't show his emotions. He's always been that way since childhood. Whether angry or sad, he doesn't let it show. Well, he does occasionally scold me, but..." "Then, a face like tonight's..." "I may have never seen it before." After that, the two were silent for a while. As they gathered the scattered documents together, Mireille was thinking. (The Walter depicted in the original game was a simpler "guardian." But reality—that person has something far more complex within him.) She handed all the documents to Leon. He accepted them with "Thank you." His hands now held the bundle firmly. "I was truly rude tonight." "Not at all. ...But," Leon continued with a slightly softer expression, "when I talk with you, Mireille, I forget the passage of time. That's the truth." Something warm bloomed in the depths of Mireille's chest. Though she still didn't quite know how to take it. "Please return to your room, Your Highness. A mountain of documents awaits you." "That's a harsh dismissal." Leon laughed as he walked toward the far end of the corridor. His chestnut hair receded into the moonlight. Mireille remained alone in the corridor. Beyond the glass ceiling, the moon shone quietly. White light fell on the floor, and the shadows of roses swayed. (Where is His Highness Walter right now?) That retreating back wouldn't leave her mind. The way he'd turned and walked away. The lowness of his voice when he'd said "I understand." The "cold first prince" of the original game should never have been able to produce such a voice. When they faced each other tomorrow, she didn't know how to interact with him. Even thinking about it, no answer came. But there was one thing she understood clearly. The days in this castle would not proceed according to the game's strategy guide. The princes were far more complex, far more alive than the characters in the data. Mireille sighed softly and began walking through the corridor. The moonlight fell quietly upon her black hair.