Everyone had dismissed his affection for her as a childish infatuation. When the Queen's marriage approached, he'd fought fiercely to accompany her, but Clan Leader Zehra forbade it.
Lord Azryn devoted years to honing his martial arts under his eldest sister's tutelage, then his master's. Only after convincing Clan Leader Zehra that his feelings for the Queen were a mere childhood phase was he permitted to go to Aisin. No one suspects he still harbors deep feelings for a woman who is his adopted sister, despite their decade-wide age gap.
His plan had been to win her heart, to prove he was no longer a child but a worthy suitor. Yet, he soon discovered her heart already belonged to the King. So, even past marriageable age, he has refused to wed, content to remain by her side.
Shaking off these reminiscences, Lord Azryn refocuses on pressing matters. Further delay in brining Yetsune back could tear the family apart. Yet, revealing the truth about Yetsune and Erya's disappearance could have severe consequences.
Lost in thought, Lord Azryn wonders if he truly knows Yetsune as well as he believed. Even if her parents are lacking, he thought his love and Yettiri's would suffice. Could Yetsune consider herself dispensable? Merely an alliance princess whose absence would cause little more than diplomatic ripples? The person he knows would never be so selfish as to subject their family to such turmoil for mere adventure.
Meanwhile, in the mountains, the Young Master tethers his horse at the foot and carries a wooden cylinder from the saddle on his shoulder. He takes Yetsune's hand as they ascend towards the peak, a vantage point offering a panoramic view of the entire mountain.
"Are we not there yet?" Yetsune grumbles, her voice muffled and almost breathless.
"Just a little further," he assures her, then pauses and turns. "Perhaps you'd prefer a piggyback ride?" he suggests.
She imagines the intimate closeness of being carried on his back, her breath tickling his neck, and shakes her head vigorously to dispel the thought.
Yetsune flushes, shaking her head profusely. "I'm perfectly fine," she insists, hastily withdrawing her hand and rushing ahead. The Young Master grins as he watches her shyly hurry away, then starts after her.
The farther they get, the more absurd the situation becomes. Eloping with someone who suspected her of theft, locking gazes while admitting mutual thoughts of each other. Even the dance was—she can't quite define it, but there was something provocative about it. The memories bring a rosy hue to her cheeks, and her heart flutters.
She presses a hand to her chest, feeling its rapid beat. Suddenly, he appeard beside her, his hand enveloping hers. The touch sends an electric current through her veins.
"We've arrived," he announces, a broad grin illuminating his face as he gazes ahead.
Yetsune's eyes drift from him to the breathtaking horizon. The sun descends behind distant peaks, bathing the landscape in a warm, golden radiance. Jagged mountains and a misty valley unfold before them, cloaked in verdant splendor. Majestic trees with sprawling branches sway gently, their rustling leaves creating a soothing symphony that resonates through the valley.
He steals a glance at her, pleased to see her as captivated as he was upon his first discovery of this place.
Unable to tear her gaze away from the view, Yetsune asks absently, "Does this mountain have a name?"
"I call it Misty Peak," he replies, arms folded behind his back.
"How fitting," Yetsune whispers.
"You are the first person I have brought to this place," he admits.
Yetsune turns to him, curious. "Why? Surely you have loved ones you'd want to share this with."
His gaze returns to the horizon. "Regrettably, I lack such people in my life," he admits, meeting her eyes again, "that is, until I met you."
Yetsune regards him with empathy, sensing a kindred spirit. "In my hometown, I have three friends, a sister, and an uncle," she shares. "I'd love to bring them here when I get the chance."
"And your parents?"
Her expression clouds. "They wouldn't come even if invited," she answers quietly.
Realizing he's touched a nerve, he offers, "My mother passed years ago, and my father… He too would decline an invitation."
Yetsune's tries offer ready to offer words of solace. But before she can speak, he gently raises a finger to her lips. "Don't feel sorry for me. I have long come to terms with her death," he reassures her with a smile that she returns.
A raindrop on her cheek interrupts the moment. Looking up, they realize a downpour has begun.
"Oh no!" Yetsune exclaims, shielding her head. He grasps her hand, and they dash for shelter.
They find refuge in a nearby cave, breathless from their sprint.
"Are you alright?" he asks, gently wiping raindrops from her face with his sleeve.
Yetsune playfully brushes his hand away. "I can manage," she grins, mimicking his gesture with her own sleeve.
"Why are you smiling?" He wonders.
"Just the coincidence of our shared habit, wiping others face with our sleeves," she explains, her grin widening.
"Ah, that," he responds, chuckling.
Spotting two stone slabs in a corner, he gestures for Yetsune to sit before joining her.
"This is our second encounter, yet I still don't know your name," he says.
The absurdity of her situation strikes her again. "Yetsu—," she begins, catching herself. "Yetsu. That's my name."
"I'm Callan," he responds.
"Callan…" she echoes. "A name as handsome as its bearer," Yetsune remarks, her genuine smile reaching her eyes.
"What do you mean?" she responds, puzzled.
"The other lady addressed you as 'Your Highness' during our first encounter. A young lady like yourself visiting the House of Fragrance suggests unfamiliarity with courtesan houses. At the market, you were easily captivated by everything you saw—the dance, the circus performance. Common folk wouldn't react similarly, having seen such sights many times before. All this indicates you've never experienced a bustling market, street performances, or circus acts. It points to you being no ordinary person, someone with limited freedom."
His astute analysis catches Yetsune off guard. If Erya discovers her identity has been compromised, she'll undoubtedly insist on an immediate return to Aisin. Also, revealing the truth means altering his perception of her entirely. Being the Second Princess of Aisin and the Crown Princess of Aushasal, these identities alone could drive him away.
"I am a Princess of the Aisin clan from the Kingdom of Asana," she confesses.
Callan's mind races. He's well aware of Asana's two lineal twin Princesses, each destined for different roles. One is set to ascend the throne, while the other already holds the title of Crown Princess of Aushasal. If she's the latter, then their situation becomes…impossible.
"Are you…"