What happened last night still lingered in her chest. Walking alongside Valter in the moonlit corridor. Being called by her given name instead of her family name—"Good night, Mireille." And then Leon's complicated expression. Mireille gazed at the morning sky from her bedroom window and let out a small sigh. (That's not the issue. Yesterday, someone from the Emerald Salon tried to make contact.) On the way back from the evening gathering, an unfamiliar maid had approached her saying, "Her Majesty the Queen wishes to offer her greetings." The smile was too artificial. Queen Catalina de Belforte's social salon—the Emerald Salon—was beginning to probe for information about her. That much was certain. She needed to clear her head. Mireille put on her gloves and left the mansion. --- The Star-Gazing Garden had few visitors in the morning. A fountain in the center surrounded by blooming white roses, the sound of three streams of water flowing, and a stone statue of the first king, Lusein Firtina, standing in the direct light of the morning sun. Mireille had come to like this quiet place, no matter how many times she visited it. That's why she was a little surprised when she heard that sound. A bang—something hitting something somewhere. Followed by a rolling sound. And then— "Oops." Three large bamboo baskets used by the gardeners to carry supplies were rolling freely across the stone pavement. And a golden-haired young man was scratching his head while following the baskets with his eyes. Shining blonde hair with a natural wave. Clear emerald green eyes. A tall frame of one hundred eighty centimeters dressed in royal morning wear—the Second Prince, Lion Firtina. "[surprised] Your Highness... what are you doing?" When Mireille called out, Lion's face lit up instantly. "[excited] Oh, Mireille! Perfect timing. Look at this—it's just not working out at all!" "Not working out... how exactly?" "[excited] Juggling! The thing where you spin three at once. A maid told me, 'Your Highness doesn't smile much and it's scary.' So I thought I'd master the art of making people laugh!" Mireille was speechless for a moment. "...The art of making people laugh." "[excited] That's right! The art of making people laugh! If I master this, everyone will smile, right? Two birds with one stone!" He said it with complete seriousness. Mireille pressed her lips together. She mustn't laugh. She mustn't laugh. This person was royalty, and he was someone she should be wary of— There was a thud. One of the rolling baskets fit perfectly on top of the stone statue of the first king's head. The statue of Lusein Firtina—the sacred king who founded the Firtina Kingdom—now stood there with a gardener's basket perched on its head. Mireille endured it. She held on for three seconds. It didn't work. "...Heh, hehe..." A sound escaped her. Louder than she expected. Even covering her mouth with her hand, the laughter wouldn't stop. Her stomach shook. Tears threatened to spill. "[laughing] I did it! Today's objective achieved!" Lion raised both hands. He was genuinely delighted. But—Mireille didn't miss that one moment. Just before he let out his cheer, for just an instant, his emerald eyes changed to a serious color. The moment he aimed for laughter and hit his mark—it was definitely a calculating gaze. It vanished immediately. In the next moment, he was already back to his usual cheerful smile. Mireille laughed while simultaneously becoming a little more cautious. --- As the two of them retrieved the basket from the statue, conversation naturally continued. Lion was easy to talk to. He had no air of intimidation, his conversational pace was light, and he didn't rush for answers. He completely avoided mentioning the Salyes family's circumstances or the tension of the fiancée selection process. Whether that was calculation or genuine indifference, Mireille couldn't yet determine. "[gentle] Your Highness... why do you always smile?" She asked casually. Lion sat down on the edge of the fountain and looked up at the sky. There was a slight pause. "[whispers] If I don't smile... it gets scary, I guess." His tone was light, but the weight of the words was different. Mireille instinctively took a step forward. "What do you mean by—" "[laughing] Just kidding, just kidding! It's not that deep. Hey, want to watch me juggle again? Maybe I'll succeed this time, or maybe I'll fail!" The subject was smoothly changed. Mireille said nothing. She simply tucked those words quietly away in her heart. The memories from her past life—the Second Prince Lion, recorded as a capture target in the game. It only said "cheerful prince." But this person had something that wasn't in her past life's memories. (Scary, huh...) Something stirred faintly deep in her chest. Whether it was caution or interest, Mireille couldn't quite name it. --- They left the garden as noon approached. She needed materials about the Emerald Salon. To investigate the Queen's movements, she had no choice but to check the records within the palace. She'd heard that the South Tower's Court Inspection Office—an independent position directly under the King that investigated misconduct in the court—had past social records. It was when Mireille was walking through a stone corridor leading to the South Tower, separate from the Moonlit Corridor. In front of the entrance to the Sealed Archive—a library located on the second basement level of the South Tower that stored forbidden books related to Holy Light and the secret history of the royal family—someone was standing. It was a passage no one used. A place where you wouldn't come unless you had business. That person had been watching her intently from the moment Mireille turned the corner. Silver hair. Transparent blue-gray eyes. Loose waves reaching the shoulders, visible even in the dim corridor. A small silver piercing in the left ear. The Fourth Prince, Alias Firtina. He didn't call out. He didn't approach. He simply—watched. Mireille stopped walking. (This person is also a Holy Light researcher attached to the royal family, if I recall correctly.) In her past life's memories, Alias was classified only as "the mysterious Fourth Prince." A character with no detailed capture route even recorded. And—she'd heard from another route that he frequently came and went from the Sealed Archive. "[serious] Prince Alias. What brings you to such a place?" She spoke politely, but naturally. She kept her voice steady while trying not to show her agitation. Alias didn't answer immediately. He continued to look at Mireille, paused for a moment, then opened his mouth. "[cold] Your... memories are not normal. I can tell." That was all. The warmth drained from Mireille's body. Her memories from her past life—she hadn't told anyone. Not her father, not the servants, no one. So why... (I'm being sensed? But how?) She mustn't let him realize her agitation. Keep her expression steady. If she breaks down here, everything ends. "[serious] ...What do you mean by that?" Her voice managed to stay calm. Alias said nothing more. After a beat of silence, he quietly turned and pushed open the Sealed Archive door. The authentication by Holy Light—a door only the royal bloodline could open—glowed faintly, and Alias's figure disappeared into the darkness. The sound of the door closing echoed through the corridor. Mireille stood there for a while, unable to move. (What does that person know? Is it just a guess? Or is it really—) She didn't know. Her reason told her she needed to be cautious. But strangely, mixed with anger and fear was an odd sensation. There was no hostility in those eyes. Only a gaze trying to see the truth. (Thinking about it now won't give me answers.) Mireille steadied her breathing and walked on. --- Night fell. The Moonlit Corridor was quiet again tonight, with moonlight streaming white through the glass ceiling. Geometric patterns of light were drawn on the stone floor, and rose shadows swayed slowly. She'd talked with Valter here last night. With Leon the night before. Mireille was beginning to think this corridor was a place where she often encountered people. Tonight, she wanted to be alone. She needed to organize everything that had happened today in order. Lion. Alias. The contact from the Emerald Salon. Footsteps echoed, and she turned around. "[excited] Ah, there you are!" It was Lion. His shining blonde hair was illuminated by the moonlight, and his emerald eyes narrowed with relief when they found her. Mireille almost smiled but held back. "[surprised] ...Your Highness, what brings you here at this hour?" "[serious] Alias, he..." Lion's tone dropped a notch. It was different from his cheerful demeanor during the day—a more composed voice. "[serious] He was looking at you with a pretty intense expression—are you okay?" Mireille narrowed her eyes slightly. He'd been watching—which meant Lion had been in the direction of the South Tower as well. Coincidence? Or had he deliberately been near that place? "I'm fine. I was just... a bit surprised." "He's sharp. In a lot of ways." After saying that, Lion continued in an unusually serious manner, without his usual playfulness. "[serious] If you ever have trouble with anything, tell me, okay? I'll listen properly." It was a casual statement. No pressure, no grand offer. Just simple and straightforward. Something warm pierced through Mireille's chest. "[gentle] ...Thank you, Prince Lion." She was surprised at how naturally the words came out. Lion's face immediately broke into a smile. "[excited] But in exchange, keep smiling for me! I'm still practicing my juggling, so I'd be happy if you'd keep me company tomorrow too!" "...Are you planning to put something on the first king's statue again?" "[laughing] That was an accident! An accident! ...Probably." That final "probably" was the problem. Mireille found herself laughing a little again. The two of them stood side by side in the moonlight and talked about trivial things for a while. In the silence of the night corridor, the scent of roses drifted faintly. Eventually Lion said "See you tomorrow" and left. His golden hair faded into the distance like it was dissolving into the moonlight. Mireille was alone again, and she gently placed her hand against the stone wall. In just one day, she'd spoken with two princes. Her affection for Lion had grown to the point where she could no longer hide it. And toward Alias—caution, and something else entirely, like a strange pull. (There's something in the Sealed Archive.) That archive where Alias frequently came and went. A place storing forbidden books related to Holy Light and the secret history of the royal family. And that person had said, "Your memories are not normal." Mireille touched her left wrist. Beneath her sleeve, a faint old pattern glowed on her skin. Something carved into the blood of the Salyes family that no one could explain. One more thing to investigate had been added today. The moonlit corridor continued its quiet night.