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Of course, most of the memories that surface sporadically were moments of lying in a cradle crying loudly, or squirming my limbs while held in a nanny's arms. These blurred landscapes, which were barely worthy of being called memories, were mere fragments of a moment—the kind that would only earn a scoff if I revealed them to my parents or siblings. Thus, they were a past and a treasure I kept solely to myself.
However, one single fragment remains vivid.
A ceiling thick with black smoke.
The searing heat brushing against my skin.
The one who saved me, trapped within the flames, was someone whose embrace was as cold as ice. I heard a voice, like a murmur, and shortly after, I was held in someone else's arms again. As an infant who knew no language, it wasn't until I was around seven years old that I came to understand the voice from that time.
The man had clearly told me:
[You should never have been born.]
I felt as though a few more short words followed, but no matter how much I retraced my memories, they remained distant and unclear. Yet, I know. A voice steeped in the long skepticism and hardship of life. The benefactor who saved me, yet the one who denied my very existence, was undoubtedly an elderly man.
According to my mother's testimony, the benefactor stayed by my side like a knight for some time even after rescuing me from the fire. If so, what did those words mean?
[You should never have been born.]
Why did my benefactor cherish me with his actions, yet deny me with his words?
I kept this question hidden in my heart, telling no one. The doubt that occasionally surfaced felt like the prologue of a mystery novel, or an adventure searching for a missing puzzle piece.
That is why I wanted to ask the person themselves one day.
Why should I not have been born?
And why did you save me, someone who should not have been born?
Tap, tap.
Small footsteps echoed consecutively through the silent corridor.
The sound continued in a straight line without hesitation, then paused momentarily at certain points, and occasionally wavered before looping back the way it came.
That's right. These are my footsteps.
I was running in a great hurry. Busy work? None. Someone chasing me? Impossible. But looking back, it was hard to flatly deny either case. Regardless, I had a goal: 'I must escape safely without being caught.'
The goal was not far. Utilizing my superior spatial awareness and reflexes, I had successfully made it down from the prison-like 4th floor to the 2nd. Now, if I turned right at the fork before me and went down the stairs...
"Larisa is gone?"
In an instant, a voice from not far away made my legs stop instinctively.
"Yes, I have just heard from Her Highness's history professor. It has been about ten minutes since Her Highness left her seat."
"And why are you informing me ten minutes after the fact?"
"He said that during class, two out of three students routinely arrived about eight minutes late, citing the restroom. However, he noted that they always kept to exactly eight minutes, and since this is the first time it has exceeded ten, he reported it immediately."
"Mikhail."
"Yeees..."
This is a predicament. Of all places, an obstacle was blocking the right passage leading downstairs.
"You decide. Should I be grateful that the professor's judgment is sharp? Or should I fire him for being incompetent?"
"May I offer a word, Your Highness?"
"Go ahead."
"I fully understand the Crown Prince's concern. However, hasn't the Princess's history professor changed more than four times in a single year? If it changes again, it will be difficult for Her Highness to focus on her studies, and above all..."
I carefully took off my shoes and socks. The chill touching the soles of my bare feet was enough to send shivers up my spine, but I ignored it and turned around.
I took ten, eleven quick steps, but I couldn't bring myself to move any further away from the stairs. The goal was right there, and I had to go back the way I came!
But sweet fruit falls before those who persevere. Once I overcome this obstacle, the opportunity will come again. I turned left at the fork I had passed.
However, it seemed this choice wasn't a particularly great one either. Another obstacle was approaching from the opposite side of the corridor, not far away.
'A servant? Is it a servant?'
No. The figure strolling toward me from the opposite side was not wearing the tacky black bow tie and formal uniform (which reminded me of a funeral) worn by the imperial palace servants. In fact, the sheer ease in every step suggested this wasn't their first time entering the palace.
'Who is it?'
Holding my shoes in both hands, I ran as if flying to close the gap between us. Despite discovering my presence, the other person did not startle or freeze up. However, it was certain that they wore a rather peculiar expression, as if watching a circus act.
"Don't make a scene; just inform the servants. She won't have made it out of the castle yet anyway."
Oh no! Perhaps because those searching for me were tall and long-limbed, their stride was wide, and they closed the distance in an instant.
I didn't have time to properly check the face of the unknown person standing a couple of steps away from me. I could only remember with my eyes that this person was a man, not a woman; he was at an ambiguous age between a boy and an adult; and he was a handsome man—no, an incredibly, incredibly beautiful beauty with short, shimmering silver hair.
Just as I was about to brush past, I grabbed the other person's hand and pulled him toward the window. As if heaven were helping me, the spot I pulled him into was a corridor with a bay window, where long curtains—unlike those at other windows—were neatly arranged over a wall sofa. I slipped between the voluminous curtains and the protruding window and pleaded with him.
"Please hide me here."
But instead of being flustered by my sudden request, the man narrowed his smooth brow, wearing an expression that said, 'You've already hidden yourself, so what more do you want me to hide?'
To be honest, I was a bit surprised too. This silver-haired beauty was a stranger I had never encountered before.
But that wasn't what was important right now. Stamping my feet while keeping an eye on the fork in the road, I spoke urgently.
"Crown Prince Vasily is about to walk down that corridor, and I have to get to the first floor without being caught! You don't even have to hide me, just... if he asks if you saw me, please don't say you did. Got it?"
The silver-haired beauty had an expression that asked, 'Who are you to ask such a favor?' Does he not know me? Well, I don't know him, so there's no way he'd know me!
Actually, this was better. An older man might be difficult, but a young noble who hadn't even reached adulthood was usually quite easy to handle. He seemed to be entering the imperial palace for the first time—though his relaxed attitude was a bit concerning—but if I spun a plausible, detailed story, nine out of ten would fall for it.
Wearing the most sorrowful expression I could muster, I tightly gripped his sleeve.
"I'm not trying to do anything bad. I'm just going to give snacks to Lara. Lara is the Yorkshire Terrier we raise, and Vasily hasn't given her snacks for over a week just because she's gotten chubby. So she's very depressed right now. Of course, I did sneak out during history class... but if I don't go now, I won't be able to see Lara. Vasily has been preventing me from seeing her for ten days now, probably because he's worried I'll shower her with snacks!"
A child who sneaks out of history class just to see her beloved Yorkshire Terrier! Isn't that the kind of pure and kind heart a thirteen-year-old girl should have? Unless he's a cold-blooded monster, he can't possibly resist.
But why am I so anxious?
"I'll keep the fact that you hid me a secret for the rest of my life."
I blocked every possible concern he might have.
"I'll give Lara her snacks and then attend the history make-up class."
Yet, coincidentally, this beauty still showed no sign of the usual flustered face or suspicious gaze.
Usually, nobles of this age tend to overreact to the smallest things, overwhelmed by the pressure of the imperial palace. The silver-haired beauty merely blinked calmly, scanning my face here and there as if analyzing me.
I began to grow desperate. If it came to this, I had no choice. Even if it was a bit mean, I had to use my last resort!
"I am Princess Larisa Nikolaevna Novarov! I command you from this moment. Hide me. If you disobey, I will give you the most shameful punishment of all—shaving your head bald...!"
"Valentin?"
Gasp. I quickly let go of the beauty's arm and squeezed myself behind the curtain. Before this person of interest could turn his head, I didn't forget to glare at him with a threatening expression.
The beauty brushed off the sleeve that had been crumpled by my hand as if removing dust, then gave a short bow to the man who had approached.
"Crown Prince Vasily."
The presence of two people was now right beside me. I froze, stopping my breath and opening my ears wide.
"I didn't expect to meet you here. Weren't you visiting Father?"
"He sent me out quickly, saying he was tired. I suppose my face doesn't look great."
"Well, considering your situation, Father has no choice. In my eyes as well, Valentin, you don't look to be in the best condition. Will you return to your room and rest? No, before that, there is one thing I wish to ask, so please don't take it strangely."
"Yes. If you are asking whether I encountered Princess Larisa Nikolaevna Novarov, I did."
What? Wait a minute.
"You encountered her?"
"As soon as we met, she hid. Right here."
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