The events of last night wouldn't leave Mireille's mind. What had happened in the moonlit corridor. Papers scattered, hands touching, her body nearly falling before Leon caught her——and then Walter appeared with those three characters: "……I see." What had that been? (Was he angry? Or something else entirely?) No matter how much she thought about it, no answer came. Mireille let out a small sigh and began walking down the early morning hallway. The royal castle's mornings started early. Handmaidens rushed about, and the palace guards changed shifts. Avoiding the flow of people, Mireille turned her steps toward the Star-Gazing Garden. She just wanted to breathe the air. That was all she'd intended. As she pushed open the stone door of the garden, the scent of roses rushed toward her all at once. The early morning light filtered through the petals, and white roses glowed softly. Three fountains flowed quietly, and the stone statue of the first king stood bathed in the morning sun. Leon was on one of the benches. Alone. His back hunched, he sat vacantly before the white roses. Not in his usual posture as crown prince—his chestnut hair was slightly disheveled. It was clear at a glance that he hadn't slept since last night. "……Um" When she spoke, Leon slowly lifted his face. His amber eyes were slightly bloodshot. "Lady Mireille." He seemed surprised, but in the next moment, he gave a bitter smile as if all strength had drained from him. "What a coincidence. Few people come to the garden at this hour." "Shall I leave?" "Please stay." It was an immediate response. Leon seemed surprised by his own words and closed his mouth slightly. Then he rephrased. "……Would you stay here a little longer?" It was an unusual way to ask. Not a command, not a polite request befitting a crown prince—just honest. After hesitating, Mireille sat down on the bench beside Leon. "Couldn't you sleep?" "Can you tell?" "Your eyes are red." Leon laughed faintly. It was a tired laugh, one that acknowledged his sleeplessness. "Tomorrow——no, it's already today. Today is my mother's death anniversary." Mireille said nothing. She simply listened. Her intuition told her that was the right response. "She loved this flower. White roses especially." Leon's gaze turned toward the roses before them. The petals were translucent in the morning light, appearing more like pale gold than white. "She used to read poetry to me every morning in this garden. From when I was five years old until she passed. She had a particular fondness for an old poem depicting the contrast between light and shadow……" There, Leon's words trailed off. Something stirred within Mireille. Information from her previous life's memories. A minor episode presented as character background in the game. ——Leon's mother read poetry to her son every morning. The poem she loved most was an ancient one about how shadow dwells within light, and light can be seen within shadow. (Should I say something? No, I can't possibly. But……) "……I believe I've heard of that poem somewhere before." Leon slowly turned to face her. "Is it the one that begins: 'Light encompasses shadow, and shadow does not reject light'?" Silence. Leon's expression changed visibly. Surprise, then confusion, then something tinged with blue. "……Why" "Yes?" "Why do you know that?" Leon's voice had grown low. The crown prince's face was returning. "That poem was contained in a handwritten booklet that my mother copied herself. Only those taught directly by my mother would know it. It doesn't exist in the library or in the court's collection." (This is bad.) Mireille felt cold sweat breaking out internally as she hurriedly opened her mouth. "Well, at the Holy Light Academy's library tower, I once——" "It wouldn't be there." "Then perhaps I heard it somewhere and only half-remember……" As she shook her head while making excuses, there was a small sound. *Click.* Her head felt slightly lighter at the back. When Mireille touched the spot, her hairpin was gone. Both their gazes turned downward simultaneously. Mireille's hairpin lay on Leon's knee. "……" "……" Leon silently picked up the hairpin. A thin silver pin. He reached out to return it to Mireille. Mireille reached out to take it. Their fingers tangled together. Both of them froze. Leon's face gradually turned red. Mireille could tell hers was doing the same. The two of them standing frozen over a single hairpin was, from an outside perspective, quite ridiculous. Leon looked away first. He cleared his throat and quietly placed the hairpin in Mireille's hand. "About the poem……let's talk about it another time." Rather than pressing her with intimidation, he said that. Mireille felt relieved, but at the same time, guilt washed over her. She felt pathetic for having lied. "When I'm with you," Leon continued quietly. "For some reason, I remember my mother. It puts me at ease." Something pulsed strongly deep in her chest. (His Highness is saying such words to me——) Mireille searched for words. But she couldn't find any. At that moment. "[cold]Brother." A low voice echoed from the garden's entrance. Walter Filtina stood there. Silver hair. Ice-blue eyes. His tall frame of one hundred eighty-five centimeters stood in the morning light. The white scar on his left cheek seemed more vivid than usual. "I came to confirm about this morning's privy council report that hasn't arrived yet." The errand was legitimate. But his eyes measured the distance between Mireille and Leon. The distance between the two of them now was closer than it had been in the corridor last night. Walter seemed to have calculated that in an instant. "[cold]Two days in a row, and now this morning as well, the two of you alone together." His tone dropped a notch. "How very proactive of you, Miss Mireille." "[angry]Walter." Leon stood up. It was an unusual way of speaking. Not a shout, but clearly angry. "[serious]Mireille didn't come here proactively. I asked her to stay. Coming to the garden was coincidence. Don't make baseless accusations." "And I'm supposed to believe that?" "I don't care if you believe it or not. Just stop speaking disrespectfully to Lady Mireille." "Brother, as crown prince, you should be more aware of——" "Don't talk to me about that." The brothers' voices overlapped. Mireille desperately tried to figure out how to step between them. (If this turns into an argument, the whole garden will hear it. A handmaiden could pass by at any moment.) "[serious]Both of you, please calm down——!" She raised her voice while stepping back, and in that instant. Mireille's heel caught on the edge of the fountain's curb. She thought "oh no," but it was already too late. Her balance crumbled. Her body tilted. She was falling into the fountain—— Two arms extended from either side. Leon's hand grabbed her right arm, and Walter's hand grabbed her left arm. At the same time. The three of them remained frozen in that position for several seconds. Mireille stood on the curb with both arms being pulled left and right. Leon pulled to the right, Walter pulled to the left. "[angry]Let go." "[cold]You let go." "[scared]I'm the one in the most uncomfortable position here!" Without either of them saying anything, their strength gave way. When Mireille stepped back down from the curb to the ground, both men released her simultaneously. The three of them remained silent for a while. Two handmaidens passing by the edge of the garden were seen hurrying away with their hands over their mouths, stifling giggles. They'd been seen. Completely seen. "……" "……" "……" Leon burst out laughing first. It was the kind of laugh that couldn't be held back. Walter looked away. Mireille felt her face burning as she looked down at the stone pavement. The laughter dissolved the tension in the air, just a little. Walter stepped closer to Leon. He spoke in a low voice, at a volume that wouldn't reach Mireille. But in the garden's silence, it was faintly audible. "[whispers]……Don't show your weakness to others, brother. You are the crown prince." Leon fell silent. Walter turned back to Mireille and bowed his head. "[serious]My apologies. I was rude." With only that, he left the garden. Mireille watched his retreating back. It wasn't anger. The expression Walter had shown as he left——the one that appeared for just a moment on his profile. It could have been jealousy, sadness, or something else entirely. It was a face where tangled, unresolved emotions mixed together. (What is he carrying……?) "My brother has always disliked it when I rely on anyone." Leon laughed wearily. "Even though he can't rely on anyone himself. That's probably why he gets upset whenever I depend on someone." "……Is that so?" "Walter has always tried to be the perfect older brother since childhood. But he's never allowed himself to rely on anyone. I'm sure that's still true now." Leon looked at the white roses again. The wind blew, and one petal fell softly. "……Just for today, will you stay by my side?" It was a quiet way of asking. The honest words of someone who hadn't slept all night. Mireille thought for a moment. What might happen next. The confusion about how her feelings for Leon had grown far larger than she'd anticipated. And——the sensation she couldn't quite understand about Walter's gaze not leaving her mind. "[gentle]……Yes." That was her answer. The two of them sat side by side, gazing at the white roses. There was no conversation. Only the sound of the fountains flowing. Two kinds of feelings moved quietly within Mireille's chest. A certain warmth toward His Highness Leon. And——still thinking about those eyes of His Highness Walter.