Chapter 7
His hand was extremely pale. Nearly as white as her own. And it was elegantly, beautifully shaped.
Without thinking, Talia started to reach her arm toward him, but she felt the bird huddled in her grip flinch its wings and quickly shook her head instead.
"I can't. I'm holding something right now."
Beneath his rain-soaked, drooping hood, she could see the boy's eyes narrow slightly.
He glanced down at her hands, clasped over her chest.
"Is it important?"
Talia thought for a moment, then shook her head.
"It's not important."
"Then throw it away."
"It's not important, but I can't throw it away."
At her sharp reply, a small crease formed between the boy's smooth brows. He seemed to be growing irritated. She wondered, for a moment, if he might just leave her there and walk away.
But the boy did something else that didn't match his cold appearance at all. He bent down right in front of her and swept her up into his arms, mud, rainwater, and all.
Caught off guard, Talia let out a small yelp. The boy wrapped his arms firmly around her as she squirmed, and said flatly,
"Hold still."
Talia obeyed him instantly.
While she carefully kept her grip loose enough not to hurt the bird tucked against her chest, he moved his legs briskly, climbing up the treacherously muddy slope. His steps were as swift and sure-footed as a cat's.
But no matter how quickly and nimbly he escaped the mud pit, there was no avoiding getting his clothes dirty. He looked down at his ruined trousers, boots, and the hem of his robe, his brow furrowing.
"This is the worst."
"...You got that way from helping me, so I'll pay you back for it. I can even buy you something far more expensive than what you're wearing now. Actually, I'm the daughter of someone very, very important. I'll have my attendant give you a generous reward on top of that, too."
She'd said it out of a sense of guilt, but for some reason, he seemed to be offended by it.
The boy took a few more steps, avoiding the piles of dirt around the pit, and said bluntly,
"Quite the arrogant little thing, aren't you."
Talia's face flushed red. Under normal circumstances, she would have slapped a boy for saying something so insolent to her. No one was allowed to speak to the Emperor's daughter that way.
But for some reason, she couldn't say a single word back. Even though the cold rain kept striking her forehead and cheeks relentlessly, her face burned as if it were on fire.
The boy stopped beneath a large, ancient tree that Senevier hadn't managed to have torn out yet. Just then, the bird let out a faint cry.
As he bent down as though about to set her on her feet, the boy paused and dropped his gaze to her hands, clasped over her chest.
"What are you holding?"
Only then did he seem curious.
She hesitated for a moment before carefully opening her hands to show him.
"A bird?"
He murmured, sounding doubtful.
It was understandable. The small baby bird, its shabby, mud-clumped wings drooping limply and its pink flesh exposed at the chest, looked more like a sewer rat than a bird.
Talia's cheeks flushed red. It was the bird that looked horrifyingly pitiful, and yet somehow, she felt small and pathetic herself.
"It's because it fell in the mud. It used to be..."
Maybe it used to be prettier.
She started to say it but stopped herself. The scrawny, bony brown bird probably hadn't been particularly pretty to begin with. It was likely just an ordinary starling, the kind you could find anywhere.
But the boy seemed to have decided to show kindness to this thoroughly unremarkable, ugly little bird anyway.
He shifted her onto one arm and pulled the hand holding the bird in close to the inside of his hood.
Talia's eyes widened. The skin his fingers brushed against was warm, like firelight from a hearth. The bird pressed itself close against the warmth, seeking heat, right beneath the boy's collarbone.
"Your fingers are like ice. How long were you standing out there?"
The boy, who had been gazing down at the bird beneath his chin, turned his head toward her. Because of that, Talia found herself looking directly, up close, into a pair of blue eyes framed by rain-dampened dark lashes.
Seen this closely, his eyes were extraordinarily unusual. They looked as though someone had scattered tiny silver fragments across a clear winter sky.
Staring at them, Talia murmured without thinking,
"You know... there's a silver crown inside your eyes."
The boy's eyes widened slightly.
His lips parted, as if he meant to say something, then closed again. Talia realized that this nameless boy was looking into her eyes too, just as intently.
What did he find in my eyes, I wonder.
As she was thinking that, a familiar voice called out from somewhere in the distance.
"My lady!"
It was her nurse.
She still wasn't used to calling Talia "Your Highness," and often got scolded by her mother or the other maids for slipping back into the old term. But it seemed the habit wasn't easy to break. Her nurse's earnest voice echoed faintly from far away, like something calling through a fog.
"I... I have to go now."
Talia murmured quietly. She didn't know why, but she hated having to say those words. Maybe the boy hated hearing them just as much.
He stood motionless for a long while before finally, reluctantly, lowering her slowly to the ground.
The moment his arms left her, Talia felt a chill seep straight into her bones. Only then did she realize just how warm his embrace had been.
After hesitating, she held the young bird out toward him.
"Will you take it with you?"
Because my hands are too cold, and you're warm.
Before she could say that, he leaned down and carefully took the bird from her. Then he brought it close to his cheek—pale as plaster—and pulled his hood forward to shield it from the rain.
Watching him do that, Talia asked,
"That bird... do you think it'll live?"
"...Yes."
His blue eyes, holding that silver crown within them, lingered on her face for a long moment.
"It'll live."
The boy's face remained expressionless, but somehow, Talia thought he had smiled.
She soon turned and ran off through the rain-soaked garden.
She didn't know how long she ran, weaving between the uprooted rose bushes, the ornamental shrubs, and the small mounds of dirt that looked like little graves—but at some point, drawn by something, she turned her head and saw him standing motionless beneath the ancient tree.
Why isn't he leaving?
Maybe he was waiting for the rain to ease up a little.
Maybe he was watching her walk away.
Talia was suddenly overcome with the urge to run back to where he stood. She wanted to shelter from the rain together with him. She wanted to sit beside him in front of a warm hearth and watch the bird recover its strength.
But while she hesitated, her nurse suddenly burst out from inside the building. Judging by how flushed and red her round face was, she must have been searching for her for quite a while.
"Where in the world have you been?! Do you have any idea how much Lady Senevier has been looking for you?"
The nurse seized her hand tightly with a plump grip and yanked her roughly toward the annex.
"And just look at the state of you! We have to go see His Majesty soon, and you've gone and gotten your clothes filthy like this!"
"...I fell while I was out for a walk."
"Honestly, who goes for a walk in weather like this!"
The nurse exclaimed, sounding utterly exasperated, and began striding briskly toward the corridor connecting to the annex.
Nearly dragged along by the hand, Talia glanced back over her shoulder. But the boy was nowhere to be seen anymore.
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