Caelith was taken aback by that reply, but then a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"I have Rhaegar. I am not by myself."

Yvaine nodded with a soft laugh. "That’s true. But I... I am going to miss you, sister."

Caelith placed her hand over Yvaines, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I will miss you too. But you will always be welcomed here. Come see me whenever you want."

"Thank you... Sister."

***

That afternoon, Caelith received a letter.

A servant boy delivered it to the residence, saying only that someone had entrusted him with it before hurrying away again.

Caelith accepted the envelope casually at first, but the moment she saw the handwriting upon it, she froze.

It was from Isabella Tanmin.

For a brief moment, her fingers tightened unconsciously around the paper before she slowly broke the seal.

Inside was a thin letter, along with a shipping list.

Miss Caelith,

By the time this letter reaches you, I will already have arrived at the borderlands.

The winds here are fierce, and the sands endless—nothing like I once imagined. Father says that after staying long enough, one eventually grows accustomed to it.

There is a kind of dried fruit here called sand dates. They are surprisingly sweet. I had a few kilograms sent along with the shipment list. There is also a piece of fabric native to this region. The texture is excellent—you may use it to make clothing.

As for the matters of the past, I will say no more. You were luckier than I was... and perhaps better as well.

I hope you and Rhaegar will live well together.

—Isabella

Caelith stared at the letter for a very long time.

Noticing her cousin’s focused expression, Yvaine leaned closer, her curiosity piqued.

"Sister, whose letter is it?"

"Princess Isabella’s."

Yvaine blinked in surprise. "Her? Why would she suddenly—"

"It is but a friendly correspondence. Leave it be."

Caelith said nothing. She merely folded the letter carefully and slipped it back into the envelope.

Outside, the distant cries of a street vendor drifted through the alleyways. Caelith rose slowly and walked toward the doorway.

In the narrow lane beyond the residence, a peddler carrying a shoulder pole was passing by. Strings of dried fruits swayed gently from the baskets hanging at either end.

Caelith stood at the doorway, watching the vendor disappear into the distance.

Yvaine followed her outside. "Sister, what are you thinking about?"

Caelith did not turn around. "Nothing of importance."

A breeze swept through the alley, carrying several fallen leaves into the air. Caelith lifted her head slightly and looked toward the sky.

It was high and brilliantly blue. But she knew autumn was nearing its end. Only half a month remained before the execution of her uncle.

She sat beside the window and began embroidering. Sunlight poured through the lattice, spilling warmly across her hands. The needle rose and fell with practiced steadiness. Yet she had already stitched the pattern incorrectly three times.

Each time, she quietly unraveled the threads and began again from the start.

Yvaine entered carrying a tray of tea. "Sister, rest for a while. You’ve been embroidering all morning."

Caelith shook her head gently, dismissing her worry with a fake smile. "I’m not tired."

Yvaine set the tea beside her but did not leave.

Caelith finally looked up. "What is it?"

Yvaine hesitated before speaking. "Recently... your lamp stays lit every night."

Caelith’s hand paused faintly, a brief frown cut her forehead. "I haven’t been sleeping well."

"Why can’t you sleep?"

Caelith parted her lips, but no words followed. Yvaine walked over and sat beside her.

"Sister, I know you’re hiding something from me. I won’t force you to tell me." She reached over and gently covered Caelith’s hand with her own. "But no matter what happens, remember this—I will always stand on your side. You can trust me now."

Caelith clasped her hand and offered her a gentle smile. "I know. I know..."

***

That afternoon, Lucas arrived again.

Caelith sent Yvaine to the rear courtyard on an errand before speaking with him alone beneath the pear tree.

"It’s been arranged," Lucas said in a lowered voice. "In two days, someone will take you inside again."

Caelith nodded in understanding. "Thank you."

The man looked at her for a long moment, studying every little change in her expression.

"You... truly intend to go?"

"Yes."

"That is the Imperial Prison."

"I know."

A brief silence fell between them. Then Lucas spoke again.

"I’ll go with you."

Caelith shook her head immediately. "There is no need!"

Lucas frowned slightly as he looked straight into her eyes. "Miss Caelith..."

"My lord," she interrupted softly, "you have already helped me more than enough. This matter... I will handle it myself."

Lucas opened his mouth as though wanting to argue further, but in the end, he merely nodded.

"Very well. If anything happens, come find me immediately."

With that, he simply turned and left.

Caelith remained standing beneath the pear tree, watching his figure disappear slowly into the distant alleyway.

An autumn wind swept through the courtyard, lifting several fallen leaves into the air.

She bent down and picked one up, holding it quietly in her hand for a very long time.

What will come out of all this in the end..?

***

That night, Rhaegar returned unusually late.

Caelith was already lying in bed with her back facing the door. She heard him enter the chamber, heard the faint rustle of clothing as he removed his outer robes, then felt the mattress sink slightly beneath his weight.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Asleep already?"

She murmured, still consumed by sleepy haze.

Rhaegar said nothing more. After a long while, his breathing gradually steadied into sleep as well.

Only then did Caelith slowly open her eyes and stare toward the window.

Moonlight filtered through the narrow cracks in the lattice, spreading across the floor like a layer of pale frost.

She suddenly remembered her childhood. Back when her mother was still alive.

Her mother had loved embroidering beneath the moonlight as well, sitting there deep into the night with needle and thread in hand. Caelith would lie beside her, watching quietly, watching as the butterflies seemed to bloom and flutter from beneath her mother’s fingertips.

Later, her mother died.

Later still, Caelith learned that her mother’s surname had been Trian.

Then, that it was changed from Grandien.

And after that... She learned she still had an uncle in this world.

And in just a few more days, that uncle would be gone as well.

Caelith slowly closed her eyes. A tear slipped silently from the corner of her eye, soaking into the pillow beneath her cheek.