“This is... it?” Rhea whispered, eyes wide as she looked up at the towering walls above.

  Before them stood Viktor’s old castle, his mighty fortress, his great stronghold, the very seat of power from which he once ruled the vast empire that stretched across the continent. Now, time had eroded its grandeur. Moss had coated its foundation and crept up the walls, vines tangling across the fractured surface. The massive portcullis was raised, its iron bars now marred by rust. The drawbridge had disappeared, probably rotted away with the years. Instead, a wooden pnk was now id over the dry moat. It was not there the st time he visited this pce, so it might have been Jeanne’s doing, to make it easier to get in and out of the castle.

  “Let’s go inside,” he said.

  The girl blinked, then slowly nodded. He stepped forward, and she trailed behind. Together, they walked through the gatehouse and entered the outer courtyard.

  “This pce is... empty,” Rhea said, looking around, as she found herself being surrounded by nothing but walls.

  Well, of course, the outer walls were merely the first line of defense for the castle. Enemies who managed to breach the main gate would be funneled into this open space, caught in a killing zone as his soldiers rained down death upon them from the towers and battlements above.

  There were many gates built into the walls, and Viktor, as the former master of this citadel, knew them as well as he knew the back of his hand. The one to the left opened toward the barracks, stables, and armory, while the one on the right led to the servants’ quarters and the support buildings that had kept the castle running. Straight ahead stood another gatehouse, which would bring them to the main keep. If Jeanne was here, that was the pce where she would most likely be.

  Without a word, Viktor moved forward. Behind him, he could hear Rhea’s footsteps. Slow, uncertain, reluctant. She was likely unsure about pressing on, but at the same time, too afraid to stay behind by herself.

  Once they passed through the gatehouse, they would arrive at the inner courtyard, once the most beautiful part of the castle, the jewel on top of the crown. It was here that dignitaries all over the world had waited for their audiences with the Emperor, so the pce was designed to leave a sting impression. To stir awe, to astonish, to not-so-subtly remind them how insignificant their realms were. A calcuted dispy of imperial majesty, intended to humble all those who entered.

  At its center stood two colossal marble statues, one of him and one of Celestia. On either side, fountains with intricate carvings flowed gently, surrounded by gardens filled with exotic trees, flowers, and colorful birds. Benches and tables rested beneath ornate pavilions, where officials and honored guests could gather and discuss matters of great importance.

  But now? He knew exactly what state it was in.

  “What?” Rhea gasped as her gaze swept over the empty space. “Did a great fire sweep through here?”

  Yes, what was once a symbol of splendor had been transformed into nothing but a stretch of bckened desotion. The pavilions, the trees, the flowers, everything had been reduced to ashes. The fountains, once flowing with water that sparkled in the sunlight, y as cracked, empty stone basins, their surfaces coated in a thick yer of soot. Even the two great statues had been scorched by the fire, and now, all that was left of them was a dark, charred form.

  “What on earth happened here?” Rhea asked.

  Scorching Winds happened.

  After all, this was also where he had fought his st battle, against the Six Heroes. Then, he was killed, and his empire colpsed.

  Afterward, his enemies razed Voskryn, ravaged the surrounding settlements, and brought ruin to the Central Pins, which eventually became a wild, untamed wastend ruled by trees and beasts. Even now, he couldn’t grasp the motive behind their actions. Why? Was it simply revenge? A deep hatred for everything tied to him? They loathed him so much that they sought to destroy everything he had created? It would almost make sense, if not for one small detail.

  Why was this castle the only thing left intact?

  Yes, the pce was falling apart now, but that was due to three centuries of neglect, not because someone had actively sought to have it destroyed. In fact, Viktor himself was the one who had caused most of the damage here. Even his statue remained standing. If they truly despised him, why hadn’t they pulled it down from its pedestal?

  A thought now dawned on him. Perhaps, this was the origin of the superstition in Daelin. When the settlers arrived, they found a city in ruins, yet the castle still held its pce. It would have been hard for them not to think some unnatural force had kept it preserved.

  “Hey Quinn.”

  “What?” Viktor turned to see Rhea standing before the statue on the right.

  “Is this woman... Alycia?”

  Ugh.

  “Of course not,” he barked. “That’s the statue of Empress Celestia.”

  Rhea flinched, surprised by the sudden surge of anger. She stepped back, eyes widening in confusion. “Alright, alright,” she said with a frown, holding her hands up. “I know I’m not as knowledgeable as you. But that doesn’t mean you have to yell at my face like that.”

  [Master, there is no need to be so angry. She is just ignorant.]

  I consider that a grave insult. If she dares to say it again, I’m going to strangle her.

  [To be fair, they do bear some resembnce.]

  You too? Celestia and the blonde have absolutely nothing in common.

  [Uh, Master... the hairstyle?]

  Viktor hissed. He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. So he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, Rhea had already turned away, her gaze fixed once more on Celestia’s statue.

  “So this is the Empress, huh?” she said. “Why is she wearing those childish pigtails?”

  He stared daggers at the back of Rhea’s head, while the girl, completely oblivious to the death gre boring into her, kept studying the statue.

  [Please, Master, don’t kill her.]

  Viktor snorted. “So you think Alycia is childish?”

  “Well,” Rhea replied. “In a way, yes. But that’s not the point. I think this hairstyle might be fine for a commoner, but it looks a bit out of pce on an empress. Oh, maybe the fashion was different back then.”

  “That’s not the reason.” Viktor let the words out in a grunt. He took another deep breath before speaking again, his voice dropped low. “It’s a wig.”

  “A wig?”

  “Yes.” He lifted his gaze, staring at the charred remnant of his wife’s statue. And he heard himself start talking. “After a certain... incident, she had lost her long hair. It had been cut short. Simir to Jeanne’s. No, a bit shorter. So, she began wearing a wig whenever she appeared in public.”

  “Um... that doesn’t expin the pigtails. What made her pick that hairstyle specifically?”

  “At first, she wanted the wig to resemble her original hair. But the Emperor... He didn’t want her to look that way anymore.”

  Rhea blinked. “Why not?”

  Because something extremely foul had happened. Something almost as bad as his sister’s murder. Something he just wanted to erase from his mind.

  “So he asked her if she might try something new,” Viktor continued, ignoring the question. “And she said, smiling, ‘Hey, how about me wearing two long pigtails?’ It was a joke, of course. She’d worn her hair like that when she was younger, but she’d stopped once she grew up. Because it was, like you said, childish. So when she said that, she didn’t expect the Emperor to take it seriously. But he told her, ‘Why not?’ She ughed. ‘I can’t do that. I am the Empress.’ To that he replied, ‘Which means you can do whatever you see fit.’”

  Celestia had spent most of her life trying to live up to the expectations of those around her. She was born a princess, after all. She was meant to be intelligent, to be beautiful, to be elegant. To be perfect. But in the end, she wasn’t so different from any other woman. She had fws, and she had interests that others might deem improper. So she had learned to keep those parts of herself well hidden.

  He was the opposite in every way. He did as he pleased. If he wanted something, he took it. If someone defied him, he obliterated them. So when he first saw the real woman behind the mask, he was taken aback. Not because she was so different from what he had imagined, but because of how far she had gone to conceal her true self. So he asked her: Be selfish, just for once.

  “So,” Rhea asked, “she actually agreed and put on a wig with two long pigtails?”

  “Yes.”

  A little silly act. A small rebellion against societal norms.

  [And then you went out of your way to construct a massive statue out of it, pcing it right here, practically shoving it in everyone’s face.]

  As I said, I did as I pleased.

  He didn’t know why he was angry with Rhea just now. Wasn’t that the whole point of making this huge-ass statue? Yes, to shove it in everyone’s face. She liked it, he liked it, everyone else just had to deal with it.

  “How do you know all of this?” Rhea asked. “Besides, I remember the bard songs about her being quite different—”

  “Quinn? Rhea?” came a familiar voice from behind them. “What are you doing here?”

  Rhea spun around. “Jeanne!” she called out, running up to the red-haired woman. “We came to see you. We heard you’re now living in this haunted castle.”

  Jeanne clicked her tongue. “Alycia, huh? I thought I told her to keep it a secret.”

  “Don’t bme her. I had to press really hard to get her to talk,” Rhea said. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could help. We could help. Why did you choose to stay here? I’ve been worried sick.”

  “Come on, I’m totally fine.” Jeanne spread her arms wide, offering the girl a full view of herself as if for inspection. “See? Do I look any different from usual?”

  Yes, she was right. The woman looked exactly like her usual self, without any sign of malnutrition. No loss of weight, no hollow cheeks, no sunken eyes. She still had her charming heart-shaped face with a smattering of freckles across her porcein skin. For someone who had been living in a crumbling ruin for almost two weeks, that was pretty impressive. If Dagnar were in her pce instead, he must have looked like Khenemhotep by now.

  “But this pce is dangerous,” Rhea protested.

  “Dangerous?” Jeanne ughed. “No bandits or monsters would dare come near this pce. The castle is safer than where you live, Rhea. Maybe you should think about moving in with me.”

  “Oh, really?” Rhea said, crossing her arms. “Well, I’m here to tell you to come live with me. If you don’t agree, then I guess I’ll have no choice but to move in here with you. I can’t leave you alone in a pce like this.”

  Jeanne’s smile faded as she realized the girl had taken her joke at face value. “You can’t be serious. How do you even go to work if you’re living here?” She turned to Viktor. “Hey, Quinn, help me out here. Talk some sense into her.”

  He gave a shrug. “Don’t drag me into your mess. I’m just a guide, and my job here is done. Both of you are equally stubborn, so I’ll just let you two duke it out while I sit back and enjoy the show.”

  “This is not a show,” Jeanne said with a frown. “But fine, I guess I’ll handle it myself. Hey Rhea, you’re wrong about one thing. I’m not exactly alone here.”

  “Huh?”

  As if in response to her statement, the sound of footsteps echoed from the entrance of the keep. Viktor and Rhea turned and found a man emerging from the main gate, making his way toward them.

  He looked young—te twenties, or early thirties, maybe—though his hair was white. His face was clean-shaven, revealing a small mole on his left chin. He was cd in shades of green: a forest-green cloak, a mossy tunic, and dark olive trousers. One could not scream Emerald Mage more than this. As he neared, he smiled at them, then turned to Jeanne.

  “Your friends?”

  She nodded. “Yes, these are Rhea and Quinn. And this is Lloyd.”

  “Oh, I see,” Viktor said, amused. “So this is why you decided to stay here.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Jeanne ughed, smacking his shoulder. “I was here long before he ever showed up. But I don’t really own the pce so I can’t kick him out. I have no choice but to tolerate him staying here.”

  Viktor grinned. “So you’re living together, huh?”

  “Come on, calling it ‘living together’ is a stretch. This pce is huge.”

  “Anyway,” Lloyd said. “Lunch is ready. You two want to join us? I made plenty.”

  “I brought some food with me,” Viktor replied. “But sure, let’s have lunch together.”

  The man in green smiled warmly. “Great. Let’s head inside, then.”

  As they began walking, Viktor leaned toward Jeanne and whispered. “So you do eat together, huh?”

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “It’s just more efficient to take turns cooking for both than to do it separately.”

  “If you say so. If you say so.”