After breakfast, Aelira walked down the hallway, her hand tucked securely in Lassandra’s.

  ?“Lady Aelira,” Lassandra beamed, “that was splendid! You held the fork perfectly. You didn’t drop it even once.”

  ?Aelira looked down, cheeks flushing. “Ugh...”

  ?“It really is amazing that you got it right on the first try.”

  ?Lassandra’s smile was so bright that Aelira could almost see flowers blooming around her face. It was impossible not to feel a little warm inside seeing her nanny this happy.

  ?“W-We should head to the library,” Aelira stammered, trying to change the subject. “I don’t want to be late for Mr. Tarihon’s lesson!”

  ?“Of course. Let’s go.”

  ?They arrived at the tall, double doors of the library. Aelira’s hand hovered over the iron handle.

  ?Mr. Tarihon’s lessons—history, geography, and world affairs—awaited her. Technically, the lesson wasn’t even meant for her. It was for Lysric, the heir’s son. But instead of hiring a separate tutor, her mother had simply tossed Aelira in with him to save effort.

  ?Clatter!

  ?A loud noise came from down the corridor.

  ?Aelira turned to see Lysric storming toward her, kicking at the floor tiles.

  ?“So boring!” he grumbled loudly. “I should be training with a sword, not reading dusty old books!”

  ?“Young Master,” his caretaker, Mr. Josef, pleaded gently while chasing after him. “History is important too. You must understand your legacy.”

  ?“Hmph!”

  ?Lysric’s pout vanished the moment he spotted Aelira. A mischievous grin split his face.

  ?“Oi, Little Dumpling!”

  ?“...Dumpling?” Aelira blinked.

  ?“Yeah. Dumpling.”

  ?“Last time, it was ‘Little Chump.’”

  ?“Yeah, but now it’s Dumpling. Much better, right?”

  ?“No.”

  ?“Too bad. It fits you perfectly.” Lysric poked his own cheek. “Remember how my mom was squeezing your cheeks? Like dough! That’s why ‘Dumpling’ fits.”

  ?He smirked, spinning on his heel. “Come on, Dumpling!”

  ?Aelira pressed her lips into a thin line. “My name is Aelira.”

  ?“Sure, sure, Lady Dumpling.”

  ?Lysric shoved the library doors open dramatically and strutted inside like a conquering general.

  ?“Lady Aelira, please forgive his rudeness,” Mr. Josef whispered, bowing low. “He’s just... energetic today.”

  ?Lassandra stepped forward, placing herself between Aelira and the caretaker. Her voice was sharp. “Mr. Josef, you should be more careful with Lord Lysric’s behavior. Lady Aelira is not here to be someone’s amusement.”

  ?“I-I meant no offense! I sincerely apologize.” Josef looked terrified.

  ?“It’s okay, Lassy,” Aelira said, tugging on her maid’s skirt. “I feel sorry for him.”

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  ?“Sorry for him?” Lassandra blinked.

  ?“He has to yell to get attention.”

  ?Lassandra stifled a laugh. “Shall we go in?”

  ?The library smelled of old parchment, dried ink, and silence. Rows of tall shelves stood like soldiers, and dust motes danced in the thin shafts of sunlight cutting through the room.

  ?Mr. Tarihon was already seated behind the heavy oak desk. His glasses gleamed as he looked up.

  ?“Since Lady Aelira is present, let us begin.”

  ?She slipped into the seat in the far corner, hoping to disappear. Lysric sat in the front, sticking his tongue out at her. She ignored him with the practiced ease of a statue.

  ?Tarihon opened a massive book. Thud.

  ?“As you both know, the history of the Empire begins with the Golden Era—when King Laius and his companions nearly brought the world to its knees. But their triumph was short-lived. Laius fell to the Dragon God, Xyronath.”

  ?Aelira’s breath caught. A Dragon God? She had heard whispers in fairy tales—dragons were monsters that could crush armies. But a god?

  ?“A Dragon God?” Lysric leaned forward, slamming his hands on the desk. His eyes sparkled. “Do dragons even have gods?”

  ?Tarihon gave him a flat look over his glasses. “That is... debatable. Likely a king-like figure among the dragons. But let us not waste time on semantics.”

  ?“Then why call it a god at all? Sounds stupid.” Lysric stood up on his chair and spread his arms. “Bow before me! I am the God of Dumplings!”

  ?Aelira slowly turned her head. Her silver eyes were flat and lifeless—like a dead fish staring at a market stall.

  ?Tarihon ignored the boy completely. “As I was saying—after King Laius fell, chaos consumed the land. The races once enslaved by man—elves, demons, giants—rose in rebellion. Humanity stood on the brink of annihilation.”

  ?“Why did we enslave them?” Aelira asked quietly.

  ?The question hung in the air. Tarihon adjusted his glasses.

  ?“Because... we could.”

  ?Aelira frowned. That isn’t an answer. It’s an excuse.

  ?She wanted to ask “why” again, but Tarihon’s stern gaze made her close her mouth.

  ?“Because we’re stronger! Obviously!” Lysric shouted, flexing his thin arms.

  ?“When all hope seemed lost,” Tarihon continued, raising his voice, “the Eight Heroes appeared. Each wielded an Imperial Sword—blades forged by the dwarves.”

  ?“Do the swords have cool powers?” Lysric asked.

  ?“Each holds a unique power. But you will learn about that in your magic theory classes.”

  ?“Hmph! Boring!” Lysric slumped back in his chair.

  ?“The Eight Heroes,” Tarihon listed, ticking them off on his fingers. “Kaelgrin and éclaron in the East. élantryx and Nyxian in the South. Maoyari and Evarard in the West. And finally... Edevry and Viremont in the North.”

  ?Aelira’s blood ran cold.

  ?Evarard.

  ?Zaek Evarard.

  ?The name clicked into place with a heavy thud in her chest.

  ?He wasn’t just a tutor. He wasn't just some strong knight. He was one of the Eight Heroes. A living legend.

  ?The deal... Uncle Celdric’s anger... Father’s excitement.

  ?Grandfather wasn't just hiring a teacher. He was bringing a myth into their home. And she... she was expected to be his apprentice?

  ?“For five centuries, these bloodlines have safeguarded the Empire. And now...” Tarihon’s gaze slid toward Lysric, then briefly settled on Aelira. “It falls to you.”

  ?The weight of those words crushed Aelira’s small chest.

  ?It falls to me? I can’t even lift a real sword yet.

  ?“That will do for now,” Tarihon said, snapping the book shut. “Return in thirty minutes.”

  ?Lysric bolted for the door like a freed bird. “Freeeeedom!”

  ?Josef stumbled after him. “Young Master! Wait for me!”

  ?Aelira remained in her seat, staring at her hands. Lassandra approached and touched her shoulder gently.

  ?“Lady Aelira? How about some fresh air?”

  ?“Y-Yes... that sounds good.”

  ?The West Garden was Aelira’s favorite spot. It was quiet, hidden by a marble archway and surrounded by pale violet flowers swaying in the breeze.

  ?She sat on the stone bench, swinging her legs.

  ?“Lady Aelira,” Lassandra asked softly, “is something bothering you?”

  ?“It’s nothing, really...” Aelira watched a white butterfly land on a flower. “I just don’t understand. Why did humans enslave the other races? Isn’t that... cruel?”

  ?Lassandra blinked. She hadn’t expected such a heavy question. She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

  ?“I think... maybe they wanted revenge?”

  ?“Revenge?” Aelira tilted her head.

  ?“Yes. Revenge for being afraid. Elves, demons, giants—they are naturally stronger than us. Humans lived in fear for a long time. So when humans finally got the power...” Lassandra hesitated, trying to find words a six-year-old could grasp. “They wanted to show that they were the strong ones now.”

  ?Aelira frowned. “I don’t get it.”

  ?Lassandra waved her hands nervously. “Ahh, well, think about it like this! Think about you and Lord Lysric.”

  ?“Me and Lysric?”

  ?“If you were stronger than him... wouldn’t you want to bother him back? Wouldn’t you want revenge for being called ‘Radish’ and ‘Dumpling’?”

  ?Aelira paused. She imagined Lysric running away from her while she called him names.

  ?“No,” she said simply. “That’s mean, Lassy.”

  ?Bang.

  ?Lassandra felt like she had been shot by an arrow of pure innocence. She slumped to her knees. “Ugh... My Lady is too pure for this world...”

  ?Aelira giggled. “But I think I understand what you mean. Thanks, Lassy.”

  ?Seeing her smile, Lassandra smiled back, dusting off her dress.

  ?A cool breeze ruffled Aelira’s ice-blue hair.

  ?“Shall we go back inside now?”

  ?“Yes!”