His hands were remarkably pale, almost as white as her own, with an elegant, shapely grace.
Talia instinctively began to reach out to him, but feeling the bird huddled in her grip twitch its wings, she hurriedly shook her head.
“I can’t. I’m holding something.”
Beneath his hood, heavy with rainwater, the boy’s eyes narrowed.
His gaze dropped to the hands clutched against her chest.
“Is it important?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Talia shook her head.
“No.”
“Then throw it away.”
“It might not be important, but I still can’t throw it away.”
At her defensive reply, a crease formed between his smooth brows. Annoyance flickered across his face, making her fear he might simply leave her there and walk away.
Yet the boy defied his frigid expression once again. Stooping before her, he scooped up her body, filthy with rainwater and mud, and lifted her into his arms.
Talia let out a faint shriek at the sudden movement. As she flailed, he held her firmly and said bluntly, “Stay still.”
She obeyed at once.
While she loosened her grip just enough so the bird would not be crushed, checking on it anxiously, he moved with steady footing up the slick slope. His climb was as agile as a cat’s.
Even with such swift, nimble movements, he could not keep his clothes clean. Reaching the top, he looked down at his ruined trousers, boots, and the soaked hem of his robe with a frown.
“This is the worst.”
“…I’ll make it up to you, since it’s my fault you got dirty. I can buy you new clothes far more expensive than what you’re wearing. I happen to be the daughter of someone very, very important. I’ll make sure the servants give you a handsome reward too.”
She had spoken out of guilt, but her words only seemed to displease him.
Taking a few steps away from the mounds of dirt surrounding the pit, the boy said flatly, “A little thing like you certainly puts on airs.”
Talia flushed red. Normally, she would have slapped the face of any boy who dared speak so insolently. No one spoke that way to the Emperor’s daughter.
Yet she could not utter a single word. Though the cold rain beat relentlessly against her forehead and cheeks, her face burned.
The boy stopped beneath a massive, ancient tree that Senevier had not yet managed to cut down. Just then, a faint peep came from between her fingers.
About to set her down, the boy paused and lowered his eyes to her gathered hands.
“What are you holding?”
Curiosity had finally gotten the better of him.
After a moment’s hesitation, she carefully opened her hands.
“A bird?” he muttered, sounding skeptical.
It was understandable. With its pathetic, mud-caked wings drooping and its pink, featherless skin exposed, the tiny nestling looked more like a drowned rat than a bird.
Talia’s cheeks burned crimson. It was the bird that looked so pitiful and wretched, yet for some reason, she felt the shame was hers.
“It only looks like this because it fell into the mud. Before that…”
‘It might have been prettier.’
She caught herself before the words left her mouth. A scrawny, brown chick likely had not been pretty to begin with. It was probably just an ordinary starling found anywhere.
Yet the boy seemed willing to show kindness even to such an unsightly little thing.
Supporting her with one arm, he pulled her hands, cradling the bird, beneath the shelter of his hood.
Talia’s eyes widened. His skin against her knuckles felt as warm as a hearth. Seeking that heat, the chick pressed itself close against the hollow beneath his collarbone.
“Your hands are like ice. How long were you standing down there?”
The boy, who had been looking down at the bird tucked beneath his chin, turned his face to hers. At that distance, she could look straight into his blue eyes, framed by thick lashes wet with rain.
Seen up close, his eyes were striking. It was as though specks of silver had been scattered across a clear winter sky.
Staring blankly, Talia murmured without thinking, “Hey… there are silver crowns inside your eyes.”
His eyes widened slightly.
His lips parted as if to answer, then closed again. Talia realized that this nameless boy was looking into her eyes as well.
She wondered what he saw in hers.
As the thought drifted through her mind, a familiar voice called out from the distance.
“My lady!”
It was Nanny.
She was still unaccustomed to saying ‘Your Highness’ and had often been scolded by Talia’s mother and the other maids for it. Old habits died hard, however, and her frantic shouts echoed through the rain.
“I have to go,” Talia whispered. For some reason, she hated saying the words. Perhaps the boy hated hearing them, too.
He stood motionless for a long time before finally setting her down, moving with reluctance.
The moment his warmth left her, a bone-deep chill took hold. Only then did Talia realize just how warm his embrace had been.
Hesitating, she held the young bird out to him.
“Will you take it?”
Because my hands are too cold, and you are warm.
Before she could say it aloud, he leaned down and took the bird with gentle hands. Pressing it against his pale cheek, he pulled his hood farther forward to shield it from the rain.
Looking up at him, Talia asked, “That bird… will it live?”
“…Yes.”
Those blue eyes, bearing their silver crowns, rested on her face for a long moment.
“It will live.”
His expression remained impassive, yet Talia felt certain he had smiled.
Turning away, she began to run through the rain-swept garden.
She ran between uprooted rose bushes, torn shrubs, and piles of earth resembling small graves, until something pulled her to look back. He was still standing beneath the massive tree.
Why wasn’t he leaving?
Perhaps he was waiting for the rain to ease.
Or perhaps he was watching her go.
A sudden impulse seized Talia to run back to his side. She wanted to stand out of the rain with him. She wanted to sit beside him before a crackling fireplace and watch the bird regain its strength.
As she hesitated, Nanny burst out from the palace entrance, her round face flushed purple from searching so frantically.
“Where on earth have you been! Do you have any idea how frantic Lady Senevier is?”
Nanny seized her hand with plump fingers and dragged her briskly toward the annex.
“And look at the state of you! You’re supposed to see His Majesty soon—how could you get so filthy!”
“…I slipped while taking a walk.”
“A walk in this weather, of all things!”
Exasperated, Nanny hurried her down the corridor leading to the separate palace.
Dragged along by that firm grip, Talia cast one last glance behind her, but he was nowhere to be seen.
END