I woke up before the alarm.

  No nightmare, no insomnia.

  Just, woke up.

  The morning light filtered through the curtain, soft, golden.

  I sat up in bed, slowly.

  Looked around.

  The room was silent, peaceful.

  And for the first time in a long while, I didn't feel the immediate crushing weight on my chest upon waking.

  It wasn't happiness.

  But it wasn't that suffocating emptiness either.

  It was just, neutral.

  And neutral was already progress.

  I got up, put on the training clothes Hinata had laid out yesterday.

  Went to the window, opened it.

  The morning air was fresh, the garden below already had movement, gardeners working, birds singing.

  Life.

  Simple, ordinary.

  But beautiful.

  A knock on the door.

  "Sekire? Can I come in?"

  Fuyumi's voice.

  "You can."

  The door opened.

  And Fuyumi entered, tray in hands.

  Breakfast.

  But when she saw me already dressed, standing near the window, she froze.

  "Y-You're already up?!"

  Shocked tone, almost offended.

  I blinked.

  "...Yes?"

  "BY YOURSELF?!"

  "...Yes?"

  She set the tray on the small table, quickly, then crossed her arms.

  "You NEVER wake up by yourself! I always have to call you three times!"

  Pause.

  "Hinata even bet you'd sleep until noon if nobody woke you!"

  Despite everything, I laughed.

  Small, but I laughed.

  "Sorry for frustrating expectations?"

  Fuyumi looked at me, serious.

  Then her face broke into a smile.

  "Actually, I'm happy, it means you slept well." She picked up the tray again. "Come, eat, I made fresh bread this morning."

  I sat at the small table, she placed the tray in front.

  Still-warm bread, butter, jam, fruits, juice.

  The smell was incredible.

  "You made this yourself?"

  "I helped Chef Bernard." She sat across from me. "He's teaching me to make different breads, today was honey bread."

  I took a piece, bit into it.

  Soft, slightly sweet, perfect.

  "It's really good."

  "Really?!" She beamed. "I was worried it turned out too sweet or too dry or—"

  "It's perfect, Fuyumi."

  She smiled, genuine, happy.

  "Thank you."

  We ate in comfortable silence for a moment.

  Then she spoke:

  "Her Highness Mabel leaves today."

  "I know."

  "She's quite nervous, Ferme too, though he won't admit it." Fuyumi picked up a fruit. "They're funny together."

  "How so?"

  "She teases, he pretends he hates it, but deep down they both like it." She laughed. "It's obvious to everyone except them."

  "Hinata said something similar."

  "Because it's true." Fuyumi rested her chin on her hand. "Like, Mabel turns red when he compliments her, and Ferme gets tense when she touches him, but neither of them does anything."

  Pause.

  "It's frustrating to watch."

  I laughed again.

  "Why?"

  "Because they're OBVIOUS!" She almost shouted. "Like, they just need to kiss already!"

  "Fuyumi!"

  "WHAT?! It's true!"

  A loud knock on the door, urgent.

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  "FUYUMI! WHERE'S MY HAIRBRUSH?!"

  Mabel's voice, desperate.

  "I DON'T KNOW, YOUR HIGHNESS!"

  "YOU TOOK IT YESTERDAY TO FIX MY HAIR!"

  "AND I RETURNED IT TO YOUR ROOM!"

  "IT'S NOT HERE!"

  Fuyumi sighed, stood up.

  "I'll be right back, need to save the princess from herself."

  She left.

  I finished eating, slowly.

  And then I heard.

  From the corridor.

  "FERME! HELP ME LOOK!"

  "You lost it again."

  "I DIDN'T LOSE IT! I JUST DON'T KNOW WHERE IT IS!"

  "That's literally the definition of losing."

  "SHUT UP AND HELP ME!"

  "No."

  "WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?!"

  "You need to learn to be more organized."

  "I AM ORGANIZED!"

  "You lost your brush three times this week."

  "IT WAS TWICE!"

  "Three."

  "AAAAAAH! YOU'RE IMPOSSIBLE!"

  I laughed, louder this time.

  Because it was funny.

  Genuinely.

  I got up, left the room.

  In the corridor, I found chaos.

  Mabel was rummaging through a backpack, hair completely messy.

  Ferme was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, neutral expression.

  But there was amusement in his eyes.

  Fuyumi was searching under a table.

  Hinata appeared from another corridor, looked at the scene.

  "Again?"

  "AGAIN!" Mabel shouted. "MY BRUSH DISAPPEARED!"

  "It's in your pocket," Ferme said, completely neutral tone.

  "IT'S NOT— wait."

  Mabel checked her pocket.

  Pulled out the brush.

  Turned red, instantly.

  "...Oh."

  Ferme said nothing, just raised an eyebrow.

  "DON'T SAY ANYTHING!"

  "I didn't say anything."

  "YOU'RE THINKING IT!"

  "I can't control my thoughts."

  "YES YOU CAN!"

  "I can't."

  Mabel huffed, turned to him.

  "You're ANNOYING!"

  "You've already said that today, three times."

  "BECAUSE IT'S TRUE!"

  She started brushing her hair, violently.

  Ferme watched for a second.

  Then sighed, quietly.

  Walked over to her.

  "Give it to me."

  "What?"

  "The brush."

  "Why?"

  "Because you're going to rip out your own hair."

  He took the brush, gentle but firm.

  And started brushing.

  Slowly, carefully.

  Untangling each knot without pulling.

  Mabel froze.

  Turned red again.

  "Y-You don't need to—"

  "Stay still."

  He continued, smooth movement, patient.

  Detangling each knot without pulling.

  Fuyumi and Hinata exchanged looks.

  Conspiratorial smiles.

  I just observed.

  Because it was, sweet.

  In a strange way.

  Ferme finished, returned the brush.

  "Done."

  Mabel touched her hair, now perfectly arranged.

  "Th-Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  He stepped away, returned to the wall.

  As if nothing had happened.

  But I saw.

  The tips of his ears were slightly red.

  Mabel stood still, just looking at the brush.

  Then shook her head.

  "W-WELL! LET'S HAVE BREAKFAST!"

  Tone too loud, compensating.

  The breakfast table was full.

  Mabel, Ferme, me, Fuyumi, Hinata.

  And food, lots of food.

  "Chef Bernard gets excited when Her Highness travels," Hinata explained. "Always prepares a feast."

  Mabel grabbed three pancakes, at once.

  "I'm going to miss the food here."

  "Netherheart Manor has an excellent chef," Ferme commented, neutral tone.

  "But it's not OUR chef."

  "Food is food."

  "IT'S NOT!" Mabel pointed her fork at him. "Food has feeling! Has memory! Has—"

  "Calories."

  "FERME!"

  He almost smiled, almost.

  Fuyumi laughed.

  "You two are impossible."

  "He's the impossible one," Mabel muttered, but she was smiling.

  We ate, talked.

  About simple things, normal things.

  The weather, the gardens, the books Mabel was taking.

  Nothing important.

  But everything important.

  Because it was just, coexistence.

  And it was good.

  Then a knock on the door.

  A knight entered.

  "Your Highness, the carriage is ready."

  Mabel stopped chewing.

  Looked at the knight, then at the food, then at the knight again.

  "...Already?"

  "Yes, Your Highness."

  She sighed, dramatically.

  "All right, let's go."

  She stood up.

  Ferme too.

  Fuyumi and Hinata started packing their bags.

  Mabel came over to me.

  "Sekire."

  I looked at her.

  She smiled, kind, confident.

  "Everything will be fine, I promise."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "Because I saw." She touched my shoulder. "Clemearl will accept, you'll be adopted by the Netherhearts, and you'll be happy."

  My chest tightened.

  Adopted.

  By the Netherhearts.

  Happy.

  Big words, heavy.

  Hard to believe.

  But Mabel can see the future.

  She saw.

  She's certain.

  Something warm rose in my chest.

  Not hope yet.

  But close.

  "Thank you."

  "You're welcome." She hugged me, quick, tight. "Take care of yourself while I'm gone, okay?"

  "Okay."

  She pulled away.

  Took Ferme's hand.

  "Let's go, annoying knight."

  "I'm not annoying."

  "Yes you are."

  "No."

  "Yes."

  They left, still arguing.

  But holding hands.

  Fuyumi and Hinata flanked me.

  "They'll be fine," Fuyumi said. "Ferme is strong, and Mabel is smart."

  "And stubborn," Hinata added.

  "That too."

  I nodded.

  And felt.

  That tightness in my chest.

  That warmth.

  Fear, hope, anxiety, relief.

  All mixed together.

  Maybe.

  Just maybe.

  Things really will get better.

  Training Grounds — One Hour Later

  Caliope was already there, waiting.

  No armor, no weapons.

  Just simple training clothes.

  Hair tied back, relaxed posture.

  "Good morning, Sekire."

  "Good morning, Your Majesty."

  "Today we start for real." She gestured for me to approach. "But first, I need to make something clear."

  I looked at her.

  "We have little time, you need years of training, but we don't have years." She crossed her arms. "So I'm going to teach you only the basics, but the basics done well."

  Pause.

  "Because basics well executed are infinitely better than complex techniques poorly learned."

  Made sense.

  "I understand."

  "Good." She walked to the center. "Sit, comfortable posture."

  I sat, legs crossed.

  "Close your eyes."

  I closed them.

  "Breathe, slowly, deeply, feel the air going in, going out."

  I breathed.

  In, out.

  In, out.

  "Now feel your core, that warmth in the center of your chest."

  I searched.

  And found it.

  Small, warm, pulsing.

  "Feel it breathe with you, expanding when you inhale, contracting when you exhale."

  I concentrated.

  And felt.

  The core pulsed in sync with my breathing.

  "Good, very good." Her voice was calm, guiding. "Now, without forcing, without pulling, just let a thread of mana flow, thin, controlled, like a strand of hair."

  I tried.

  The mana moved.

  But it wasn't a thread.

  It was a wave.

  Started small.

  Then grew.

  "Stop, breathe."

  I stopped, breathed.

  The wave receded.

  "Again, smaller this time, don't pull, just invite."

  I tried again.

  Smaller, more careful.

  A thread.

  Thin, fragile.

  But controlled.

  "Perfect, now hold it, breathe with it."

  I breathed.

  The thread remained stable.

  For three seconds.

  Then it wavered, grew, started to lose control.

  "Stop, breathe."

  I stopped.

  Sweat dripped down my forehead.

  "Open your eyes."

  I opened them.

  Caliope was smiling.

  "Three seconds, first attempt, that's excellent."

  "But it didn't work."

  "It worked partially, and partial is progress." She crouched to my height. "Sekire, you have severe instability, three seconds of control is a victory."

  She touched my shoulder.

  "Let's try again, but this time, I want you to release the mana in pulses."

  "Pulses?"

  "Small bursts, quick, like..." She thought. "Like coughing, small bursts instead of continuous flow."

  I understood the logic.

  If I couldn't control continuous flow, maybe bursts would work better.

  "I'll try."

  I closed my eyes again.

  Breathed, searched for the core.

  And this time, instead of letting it flow, I pushed.

  Small, quick.

  The mana came out.

  A burst.

  Then stopped.

  "Good! Again."

  I pushed again.

  Another burst.

  Stopped.

  "Continue, create a rhythm."

  I pushed, stopped, pushed, stopped.

  A rhythm started to form.

  Like a heartbeat.

  Pulse, pause, pulse, pause.

  "Perfect, now increase the frequency, but keep the amount small."

  I accelerated the rhythm.

  Pulse-pause-pulse-pause-pulse-pause.

  Faster, but controlled.

  "Excellent, now slow down again, gradually."

  I slowed down.

  Pulse... pause... pulse... pause...

  Until stopping completely.

  I opened my eyes.

  I was exhausted.

  As if I had run kilometers.

  But also...

  There was something.

  Satisfaction? Pride?

  I did it.

  Not perfectly.

  But I did it.

  Caliope was smiling.

  "First day, you already have basic pulse control." She stood up. "This will be the foundation of everything, breathing, pulse, control."

  She extended her hand.

  Helped me up.

  "Rest now, have lunch, then in the afternoon we'll try again."

  I nodded.

  "Thank you, Your Majesty."

  "You're welcome." She started to leave. "And Sekire?"

  "Yes?"

  "You're progressing, slowly, but progressing." She looked back. "Keep it up."

  And left.

  Leaving me alone in the courtyard.

  I looked at my own hands.

  They still trembled slightly.

  But there was something different.

  Not just tiredness.

  But a feeling of, accomplishment.

  Small, fragile.

  But real.

  I accomplished something today.

  Not much.

  But something.

  I smiled.

  Small, but genuine.

  And returned to the castle.

  Ready for whatever came next.