The papers on King Akiyama Ashen’s desk remained untouched.

  Reports lay neatly stacked—military movements, border patrols, noble petitions—but his eyes refused to focus on any of them. Instead, his thoughts circled endlessly around a single name.

  Kael Ardent.

  The former hero.

  The boy who vanished.

  The boy who chose exile over obedience.

  Akiyama clenched his jaw.

  “…Damn it.”

  He pushed his chair back so hard it scraped against the marble floor and stood abruptly. The motion startled the attendants stationed near the walls, but none dared speak.

  “Leave,” the King ordered.

  They bowed and withdrew at once.

  Akiyama strode out of his office, his heavy cloak swaying behind him as he entered the grand corridors of Ashkara, the capital city of the kingdom—an ancient metropolis of black stone towers, silver spires, and banners dyed in royal black fluttering high above the streets.

  The castle halls echoed with his footsteps.

  Where did you go, Kael?

  He passed tall stained-glass windows depicting past heroes and kings. Once, Kael’s name would have been carved into those halls.

  Now… he was a fugitive.

  As the King turned a corner, he slowed.

  Ahead, standing at a wide balcony overlooking the capital, was his daughter.

  Miyazuki Ashen.

  The Third Princess.

  Her long hair flowed softly in the breeze, her hands resting on the stone railing. She looked small against the vast sky, her gaze fixed on the distant rooftops of Ashkara.

  Akiyama hesitated.

  Then he approached.

  “…Miyazuki.”

  She turned slightly. “Father.”

  Her voice was calm. Too calm.

  He joined her at the balcony, resting his hands beside hers.

  “…How are you holding up?” he asked quietly.

  Miyazuki blinked once. “I’m fine.”

  Akiyama frowned. “You don’t sound fine.”

  She offered a faint smile. “I suppose I should be crying?”

  “…You loved him,” the King said gently.

  Miyazuki looked away. “Love doesn’t change reality.”

  Akiyama studied her profile. He had ruled a kingdom for decades—he knew when words lied.

  “…What do you think about Kael fleeing the kingdom?” he asked.

  Miyazuki shrugged lightly. “If he left, then he had his reasons.”

  Akiyama stiffened. “You’re not angry?”

  “No.”

  “…Not even a little?”

  She hesitated—just for a breath.

  Then, “No.”

  But her fingers trembled against the stone.

  Akiyama saw it.

  “…I can order the knights to search for him,” he said. “Every forest. Every border.”

  Miyazuki’s shoulders tightened.

  “…You don’t need to,” she replied.

  “Why not?”

  She turned fully toward him, eyes steady. “If Kael wanted to be found, he wouldn’t have run.”

  Akiyama’s voice softened. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

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  Miyazuki smiled again—this one sharper. “I’m not pretending.”

  She stepped back. “Excuse me, Father.”

  Without another word, she walked past him, her footsteps light but hurried as she disappeared into the corridor leading to her chambers.

  Akiyama remained at the balcony.

  The wind felt colder.

  “…I failed you,” he murmured.

  A moment later, another voice spoke behind him.

  “You look troubled, Father.”

  He turned.

  Mizuki Ashen—the Second Princess—stood a few steps away. Her expression was composed, observant. Unlike Miyazuki, she never hid her thoughts behind softness.

  “…Mizuki,” Akiyama said. “You heard.”

  She nodded. “The entire castle has.”

  She approached the balcony. “What happened to Kael Ardent… and Akitsu Shouga?”

  Akiyama’s eyes darkened. “One corrupted the other.”

  Mizuki raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you believe?”

  “Akitsu Shouga dragged Kael into his madness,” the King snapped. “I should have executed him myself.”

  Mizuki turned sharply. “That’s not true.”

  Akiyama glared at her. “You defend a criminal?”

  “I defend the truth,” Mizuki replied calmly. “Akitsu Shouga doesn’t drag people anywhere.”

  “You knew him?” the King asked coldly.

  “Yes.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  “He doesn’t manipulate,” Mizuki continued. “He moves forward. People follow him by choice.”

  Akiyama scoffed. “You speak as if you admire him.”

  Mizuki didn’t deny it. “Kael chose to leave. Not because he was forced—because he believed it was right.”

  The King clenched his fists. “Kael was loyal.”

  “He was,” Mizuki agreed. “That’s why he left.”

  Akiyama froze.

  “…Explain.”

  Mizuki met his gaze. “He couldn’t stand by while the kingdom condemned someone he believed was innocent.”

  Akiyama shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

  “…Are you sure?” Mizuki asked softly.

  The question lingered.

  Akiyama turned away, gripping the balcony railing.

  “…Akitsu Shouga is dangerous,” he said. “He attracts calamity.”

  Mizuki watched him carefully. “Or perhaps calamity follows the kingdom’s fear.”

  The King said nothing.

  “…I won’t argue further,” Mizuki said. “But if you hunt them… do so knowing Kael chose his path.”

  She stepped back. “Good evening, Father.”

  She walked away.

  Akiyama stood alone once more.

  Doubt crept into his chest—slow, unwelcome.

  What if…

  He shook his head violently.

  “No,” he muttered. “I am the King.”

  Yet the doubt did not fade.

  Far from Ashkara, beneath alien skies and ancient trees, two fugitives walked on—unaware that even the crown now hesitated to name them monsters.

  And as the sun sank behind the capital, Mizuki Ashen stood at a window, watching the horizon glow red.

  “…Stay alive,” she whispered. “Both of you.”

  The kingdom slept.

  But its conscience did not.