Wait.
No, that was not it.
The important thing was simple. Dangerous in its simplicity.
He had seen her.
The thought did not strike Ett like thunder. It arrived quieter than that, slipping between breaths, settling somewhat deep and cold.
Not good.
Ett's mind turned.
A single pulse.
Then stillness.
"Who are you?" Ett asked, "You dare intrude on my wing?"
The question hung lightly in the air, yet it carried weight enough to press against the boy's nervous heart.
Uninvited?
Ett's mind swirled.
Impossible.
Was there a visitor Ett is not aware of?
No.
That alone was enough to make this moment…inconvenient.
Her gaze lingered on him.
A child.
Soft-featured. Bright-eyed. Sunlit in a place that knew only shadows.
Out of place.
Yeah. Indeed.
Too out of place.
Ett's thoughts shifted as she tried to recall fragments of memory she had.
Nothing.
Not a thread of connection to him.
No, she doesn't want to know his name as of yet.
Because flashbacks before the true events weren't detailed or expanded upon, other than a few tidbits of black and white. And this flashback…it seems it's not one of those.
"I am sorry, my lady…Prin…Princess…" the boy stammered, bowing clumsily, his voice catching on its own fear. "I lost my way and wandered here by mistake. Please forgive me."
Ett watched him in silence.
Of course you did.
Her thoughts were dry, almost amused, though her face betrayed none of it.
Princess.
Ah.
"Leave," Ett ordered, calm as ever. "And forget what you have seen. Don't come here."
No threat. No raised voice. Yet it was not a request.
Truly, young people these days are like curious kittens.
"I…I want to introduce myself, Princess…I am—"
"Not interested."
Not now.
There were too many variables already.
She did not need another one. Let's delay it as much as we can.
Still, it was not difficult to piece together the situation. Guren must have permitted his entry. The boy walked freely, unguarded, unrestrained. That alone spoke of volumes.
He does look like a captive. Lost and confused.
Besides, the way he looks right now is like those young boys who would fall in love with the female lead.
The boy next door, bright and sunny, is the second male lead.
"…"
Sheesh.
Nah. I don't want to think about it for now.
"I…I. Apologies."
The boy doesn't know what to say. He hesitated. Eyes drifting as if searching the garden as though expecting someone to emerge and call him.
No one came.
That's how it goes here.
Not unless you call out.
Then he looked back at her and stopped.
"…"
Not with fear, but something softer now. Something… unwelcome.
"Do not stare."
The effect was immediate.
Color rose to his face, uneven and sudden. Those ears, too.
Yo, this is so sad.
Boy, you got scammed by this look. Really.
"A-Apologies," he said, voice stumbling over itself. "May this sub-subject…remain here for a short while? The garden is beautiful."
Ett followed his gaze.
The roses stood as they always did. Black. Silent. Untouched by warmth.
Then she gazed back at him.
You are not looking at the garden.
"…"
A faint exhale slipped past her lips.
Just say you are lost.
Do not disguise it so poorly. Don't be embarrassed, good sir.
Ett's fingers moved.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
The glass rang softly beneath her touch, sharp enough to cut through the quiet surrounding.
A moment passed.
Then, like something summoned from a shadow, a maid stepped forward from behind her.
"Oh my goodness, that surprises me!"
The boy held his breath in shock as the servant approached Ett and bowed.
"Your Grace."
Ett gestured toward the boy.
"He is lost. Guide him."
A pause.
Then she added, "This 'princess' will retire."
The maid nodded, "Understood, Princess. Then I shall call for another servant to come with you."
"No need. Just escort the young sire."
"Understood."
"But…" the boy began, taking a hesitant step forward.
Ett lifted her hand.
A small motion.
Absolute.
He stopped.
"….Then I shall take my leave," he said, voice quieter now. "Forgive me for troubling you, Princess."
Ett did not respond.
She only watched.
He turned away.
Walked.
And though his posture remained proper, there was something in the way his shoulders lowered, like a hound denied affection.
Ett pursed her lips.
"…Softie." She murmured.
Nothing like her son, Guren. He holds a lot of expression on his face.
"Eru, the show is done. Let's go back."
She turned.
An older woman stood nearby, silent, watchful. The previous nanny, if memory serves her well.
"Enough, instead, sew me handkerchiefs if so."
"Thank you, I will do so, Your Grace."
Ett's gaze passed over to the younger maid.
"You."
"Yes, Your Grace?"
Ett gestured to the wheeled seat.
"Alright, Your Grace."
"Lovely."
Walking felt unnecessary.
Perhaps it always had.
"Where shall I escort you, Your Grace?"
"Study."
There was work waiting.
There was always work waiting.
Akan remained away. His letters had dwindled to almost nothing.
And this month.
Only one.
Her fingers tapped faintly against the table.
Ares.
Yes.
He could be put to suit.
Not for the delicate matters.
Not yet.
Still on probation.
Though if it's for structure, for discipline, he can adapt.
He had to.
"Shall refreshments be prepared?"
"No."
Instead, "Summon Ares."
"At once."
A little work on this and a bit of tic to the tac.
***
Far from the palace, another stillness lingered.
Akan sat alone.
Before him, a table consumed by maps and sketches stretched like a battlefield rendered in ink. Lines crossed, overlapped, and threads in ways only he could fully decipher.
Routes.
Resources.
Possibilities.
Traps.
He did not move.
Not at first.
You see, letters arrived two months ago, along with the materials Her Ladyship had instructed him to obtain.
At that time, he had not understood.
Then he had.
And that understanding had not brought relief.
Akan gazed at the parchment at his side.
"Hahhh."
A slow breath followed.
Knock. Knock.
"Enter."
The servant stepped inside, bowing low.
"My lord."
"How is it?"
"He remains persistent."
Akan exhaled faintly.
"How tiresome."
The arrangement had been presented as a form of cooperation.
There were polite words, but they were all deceptive.
It was three days ago that he came to this manor.
A white-haired, bearded older man with a nice physique, unlike those with bloated stomachs and gaudy clothes, he was elegantly dressed like an old yet fine wine.
"Sire Akan, I see you have an elaborate order from His Majesty. Let me know if I can help."
"Why, thank you, Duke. You're the first to have visited me. I'm honored."
"We are after all near each other's household, how could I not come. If you want, come visit me anytime."
"I will. But for now, apologies as I have to decline with all these things I have on my plate. Wouldn't want His Majesty to be upset, wouldn't we?"
Akan joked.
"Indeed, you're right. Is there any way I can provide aid? Do let me know."
From his words, Akan could tell he wanted to know what he was doing.
He was looking at the table where the sketches were.
Something Akan deliberately showed to pique his curiosity.
"For now, no need. As you can see, I am building a bridge."
"That is quite a very strange design."
"Indeed, yet it's His Majesty. I don't understand, though I still must abide."
"And in this place as well."
The Duke of Ostenian added. Akan chimmed. "Indeed, I find it strange as well. Somewhere a bit far from the capital, the market, and the townsfolk. I wanted to know what it was, yet."
Akan sighed drammatically.
This made the Ostenian Duchy laugh. "Indeed, who knows of His Majesty's heart until this is finished and we can see the purpose?"
"Truly. I want to return as soon as I can."
Really, if it's His Majesty's temperament as the reason to lie, they would believe him. After all, that's how he had always been, and still many trust his judgment. After all, he is still His Majesty who brought down hundreds and thousands of enemies.
"If you are having concerns, let me know."
The Duke repeated.
"I will definitely take that thoughtfulness into consideration."
Akan smiled.
The Ostenian Duke smiled.
Both of these snakes smiled at each other.
They talked for a few more hours before the Duke of Ostenian stood up.
"It's never a bore talking to you, Sire Akan. If you won't come, I'll come and visit you often."
The Duke teased, yet Akan knows this is the truth.
"Oh dear me, now I feel burdened that I let a Duke visit me."
"Don't be, after all, we serve the same royal, and your rank is definitely not low."
"Thank you for your kind words."
Though he didn't visit them, he sent a letter.
Inviting him for a cup of tea or suggesting to his men that they would help him. Heh.
Akan did take the Duke's men, yet only for hunting, and let them return, saying they lacked fresh goods to make something delicious.
A poor excuse to stay out of it, yet the Duke seems to ignore it.
"Hahh."
Now, he is back at staring at his window.
"This place…" he murmured. "It's not good for me."
The palace had been cold. Suffocating in its own way.
Yet there, danger had shape.
Here, it smiled.
His eyes returned to the parchment.
Iron Bridge 2.0 is what Her Ladyship calls it.
The words sat there.
Bold and unrefined.
What does 2.0 even mean?
Akan understood the concept.
But the problem is, he had understood it too well with the draft His Ladyship made.
Iron.
Not for a weapon.
Not for tools.
But for a bridge.
This bridge.
Impossible, as he always knew.
Everyone knew this. Who in the empires would even think about it?
And yet, the instructions were precise.
Too detailed for a draft.
Too certain.
His fingers brushed the edge of the parchment.
Five years.
No more.
If it can be fast enough, three years at most.
If he can push further, find the right people for this…
Akan's gaze narrowed.
"But why…"
Her Ladyship has never shown interest in such things.
Never spoken of structure or foundations.
And yet here it was.
Here he was.
Complete.
With 'sketches' she terms. While Akan thought it was another form of art, another form of painting.
Using charcoal to 'sketch' this?
Akan let out a low breath, something between admiration and disbelief./
They say, if a person does something he has never done before, he knows he is running out of time or an impending death is growing closer.
Is that how it's supposed to be?
Akan does not believe so.
"Her Ladyship…"
He had served her for quite a while now.
Akan believed he had understood her more than anyone in the palace.
It seems that he did not.
"Not even close, ahaha."
Akan laughed merrily. Then a faint, humorless smile touched his lips.
"…You have hidden far too well."
His thoughts shifted to his missing men.
Builders.
Smiths.
The finest he could gather in Adiand.
Gone.
No struggle.
No trace.
Nothing.
Which meant…, "This is no coincidence."
Well, it did not matter.
The intent was clear.
Akan closed his eyes briefly.
"Then we proceed differently."
The game had changed slightly.
And he would not fall behind.
Still, a thought lingered.
That is to remain vigilant.
Yet even that felt insufficient.
"…How exhausting."
And yet, a faint smile returned.
"Dare to test me? Alright."
That's not going to happen.
"Since I miss being beside the one I serve, please excuse me."
He'll have to be faster.
Lest Her Ladyship would think he had abandoned his post and betrayed her as she expected, or that he had been replaced.
That's not elegant.