The lavishly decorated hall of the noble’s party sparkled with light.

“Wheee!”
“Catch me if you can! Ehehehe!”

While the adults mingled, exchanging pleasantries and forging alliances, the children had gathered near the edges of the room to play.

“Look at this! My father bought me this doll!”

A young girl hugged a palm-sized doll tightly with both hands, proudly showing it off to the other children.

“Wow! That’s the latest magic-powered doll!”
“I want one too!”
“Can I touch it just once? Please?”

The children crowded around the girl, their eyes wide with awe. But one boy sat apart from them, quietly reading a book.

His clothes were neat, his hair meticulously styled, and yet none of the other children approached him. Some had even considered doing so but were swiftly stopped by their parents, who gasped upon seeing the brooch insignia on his attire.

The boy kept his eyes fixed on the book, feigning indifference to the other children. But as their voices grew louder, his gaze repeatedly drifted toward the girl with the doll.

No. No. No.

Shaking his head vigorously, the boy muttered to himself under his breath, “I don’t care. I don’t care. I am the great Ian.”

But just as he buried his face deeper into the book, a soft voice startled him.

“Hello! What’s your name?”

The boy flinched and dropped his book.

The sudden proximity of the girl’s face startled him, her long hair brushing against his nose, carrying a light, sweet scent.

“Did I scare you? I’m sorry,” she said, tilting her head with genuine concern.

“…Huh? Oh, no, no, not at all!” the boy stammered, shaking his head vigorously.

“I just... uh… the book was… boring, so I tossed it! Haha…”

What am I even saying?!

The boy cringed inwardly at his own awkward words. Tossing a book because it was boring? How strange must that sound?

He braced himself, expecting the girl to frown and walk away, but instead—

“Pfft. You’re funny,” she giggled.

“…!”

The boy’s breath caught. To his surprise, she found him amusing. Her bright laughter was warm, like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“My name’s Kate. What’s yours?”

“I... I’m Ian...”

“Oh! Ian! That’s the name of the main character in a fairy tale I read!”

“…Really?”

“Yeah! He was a frog!”

“A… frog?”

“But that’s okay! He was a big, cute frog!” she said with a cheerful nod.

“Haha… I see...”

A big, cute frog?

Ian, who had been raised under strict teachings that emphasized logic and decorum, found her whimsical thinking baffling. And yet, he found himself wanting the conversation to continue.

If possible, he wanted to stay by her side for just a little longer.

“Do you want to see this?”

After chatting idly for a while, Kate pulled out the doll she had been holding earlier.

“My dad bought it for me!”

“...Wow.”

To Ian, the doll seemed overly simplistic—something crude that he could easily craft himself. But he expressed genuine awe nonetheless, unwilling to let her see even a hint of disappointment.

Proudly, Kate demonstrated the doll’s movements, manipulating it this way and that.

“When you turn it like this, its arm moves back... oh?”

Zzzzt.

A faint, unpleasant sound came from the doll’s joints as its magic-powered mechanism reached its limit.

Snap.

A loud crack echoed as the doll’s arm broke off, dangling limply.

“...”

“...Oh.”

The young girl stared blankly at the broken doll in her hands.
The boy beside her watched her carefully, observing her every movement.

Drip… drip…

One by one, tears began to fall from the girl’s eyes, soaking into the doll.
Her lips pressed tightly together as she tried to hold back her sobs, forcing a weak, trembling smile to appear instead.

The boy recognized that expression immediately—an all-too-familiar attempt to swallow tears, the same way he often did when left alone in his room.

Her father had bought her the doll just recently. She had shown it off to her friends, proud and excited. But in her excitement, her carelessness had broken it.
The boy, despite not having friends of his own, could imagine what would come next: her fear of telling her father, her worry that she might never get such a gift again, or even be allowed to play freely anymore.

“...”

The boy wanted to help.
This girl—who had approached him, spoken to him, and shared her laughter—was someone he couldn’t ignore.

“...Can I see it for a moment?” he asked softly.

The girl sniffled, confused, but handed him the doll and the detached arm.

“...W-what are you going to do?” she asked hesitantly.

“Everything I’m about to do has to stay a secret, okay?” he whispered.

“...?”

The boy held the doll and its broken piece together, aligning them as closely as he could.

“Fervinite Certum.”

As he whispered, a faint glow of magic flowed from his hands into the doll.
The broken joint began to reform, the parts knitting themselves back together until the doll looked as good as new.

“Here.”

The girl’s eyes widened as she took the doll, now perfectly repaired.

“Wow... how did you do that? Not even old man Hans can fix things like this!”

At her awe-filled question, the boy raised a finger to his lips.

“Shh. Don’t tell anyone... okay?”

The girl exaggeratedly pursed her lips and nodded with wide eyes, her expression both playful and serious. Then, leaning closer to him, she whispered conspiratorially:

“This is our secret. Just the two of us. Right?”

The boy’s cheeks flushed a deep red as he faced her bright smile.

“Kate!”

The sharp voice of an elegant noblewoman cut through the moment. Her hand reached out and grabbed the girl by the arm.

“...?”

“Kate, how many times have I told you? You can’t just play with anyone!”

The woman cast a disdainful glance at the boy, her eyes filled with contempt.

“Hmph. You should never associate with someone from the filthy Carlyuga bloodline.”

“But Mother—”

“Silence! Are you arguing with me again? …We need to have a talk, young lady.”

The woman began dragging the girl away, ignoring her protests.

“...”

So, it ends like this.

The boy let out a hollow laugh, his expression bitter.
It was his fate, after all.

Born into this cursed family, he had known better than to hope for anything different.
And yet, he had foolishly thought he might fit in—thought he could befriend someone as bright as that girl.

Bending down, he began picking up his discarded book. It was time to return to his solitude.

Today’s events would be buried deep in his mind, left to wither and fade.
It was better that way—for her and for himself.

As he stood, he cast one last glance toward the girl being dragged away.

His heart stopped.

Even as she was pulled away, she turned to him, her lips moving silently.

“Thank you.”
“Check your pocket.”

Her mouthed words left him puzzled.

Pocket?

Instinctively, the boy reached into his pocket.

Squish.

Inside, his fingers closed around something soft and round, wrapped in delicate paper.

It was a small candy, neatly packaged in a colorful wrapper.

Looking back toward the girl in confusion, he saw her mouthing more words:

“It’s a gift.”
“Enjoy it.”
“Next time, let’s play like today again.”

The boy stood frozen, the candy in his hand, as the girl laughed brightly one last time. Her smile shone like sunlight before she disappeared into the crowd, swept away by the flow of the party.

“...Maybe it wasn’t entirely meaningless,” he murmured.

Even as her mother dragged her away, she had managed to sneak the candy into his pocket.
Her movements had been swift and deft.

The candy, warm from her touch, sat in his hand. Slowly, the boy unwrapped it and placed it in his mouth.
The sweetness rolled over his tongue, spreading a gentle, comforting flavor.

The bittersweet taste was like the stirrings of his first love.

“Kate, right? …Kate. Kate. Kate.”

Her name was as sweet and refreshing as the candy itself.

The boy carefully folded the wrapper and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

[That was how I first met her.]

[She was the reason I existed. The driving force that helped me survive the hellish torment of my family.]

[But... if that meeting had never happened, she wouldn’t have suffered so much. She wouldn’t have met such a tragic end.]

[If we’d never met, she could have lived a normal life, married a respectable noble, and raised children in happiness.]

[If only this meeting had never happened...]

[If only I had never existed.]

[If Ian Carlyuga had never been born.]

Orpheus’s thoughts rippled through the mindscape, echoing in every corner of its darkness.

The Crown Prince, now within Orpheus’s inner world thanks to the Curator’s power, glimpsed fragments of Ian Carlyuga’s memories.

He pressed forward, deeper into the suffocating shadows of the mindscape—toward the core where Orpheus’s Abyssal essence resided.