The fire incident, with its destructive touch, had wielded consequences far beyond the flames themselves. It not only disrupted the harmony between the Reinhard Duchy and the crown but also cast its shadow on relationships with other noble families. The visits from Duke Georg had become a thing of the past, a thread of connection unraveling as the ties between the young men started fraying.
Seated now, a sense of casual intimacy enveloping them, Henrie broached a question that had perhaps lingered unspoken for years. "Did you find your sister?"
The query hung in the air, a heavy pause, Yohana's sudden cough briefly shifting the attention to her.
And then, Fabian's voice emerged, carrying the weight of his experiences. "Yes, I did. But things... well, they couldn't quite return to how they used to be. Much has changed."
Henrie's words carried a soft warmth, akin to the echo of fond memories. "Yes, I remember. We've come a long way from those days. Your sister used to tag along with us all the time," he said, his tone nostalgic.
"You used to hate that," Fabian added.
A chuckle escaped Henrie's lips, the resonance of a past self. "Oh, absolutely. I thought I was all grown up back then, avoiding the company of a little girl. Funny how perspectives change over time. Well, that's an event of the past. What business do you have to visit the palace?"
The air between them, once laden with the weight of time passed, now held a promise of shared confidence. He put on a smile, unable to find the right words to express his rejection of the king's recent marriage proposal for his daughter.
Henrie's intuition seemed to guide him, already aware of the topic looming beneath Fabian's veneer.
"Did he ask you to marry Elke, again?" he asked, his voice a mixture of understanding and gentle inquiry.
Fabian let out a long sigh. "Princess Elke is beautiful, and I know she would be a wonderful partner," he began, navigating his words carefully.
But before he could unravel his thoughts further, Henrie intervened, his raised hand a symbol of empathy. "You don't have to explain to me, Fabian. My relationship with my sisters is... different. Your reasons are your own, and they are valid."
Henrie's assertion brought a flicker of recollection to Fabian's mind. Henrie's dismissal of Yohana when they were children might have not solely stemmed from the pride of growing up, but also from the intricate tangle of familial dynamics.
"Indeed, Princess Elke seems to have her own view of marriage," Yohana chimed in, adding her perspective to the exchange.
Henrie's laughter carried a touch of warmth. "Peculiar in the best way possible, I assure you. Elke is more intrigued by trade and diplomacy than the usual courtly pursuits."
Fabian nodded with appreciation. "Her independence is admirable. In a world where many are confined by societal expectations, her pursuit of her own interests is truly commendable. It's quite lovely to see a young noblewoman charting her own course. It's a rarity."
Yohana's eyes sparkled with understanding as she regarded Fabian. "Perhaps I should talk to Princess Elke to understand her perspective on the matter."
"Thank you, Lady Runa," Fabian said.
***
Henrie's thoughts swirled like a tempest within him as he tried to come to terms with the emotions bubbling under his calm facade. The sight of Runa's hand intertwined with Fabian's had ignited a pang of jealousy he hadn't anticipated.
He wrestled with the internal turmoil, realizing that he was treading a fine line between respecting their privacy and quelling the ache in his heart.
Inwardly, he berated himself for being so sensitive, for letting these feelings consume him. He couldn't help but wonder what had transpired before his arrival, but he knew it wasn't his place to pry.
Summoning a semblance of composure, he redirected the conversation, hoping to steer away from his personal unrest. "Have you any recollection of me in your childhood?" he asked casually, masking the deeper currents beneath his words.
Runa's puzzled expression showed that his words had taken her by surprise. "Were we acquainted when we were younger?" she queried.
Henrie let out a light chuckle, a hint of nostalgia touching his voice. "In truth, we weren't close during our childhood. You had a certain... distance about you back then."
Runa's brow furrowed slightly, clearly intrigued by his observation. "So, why the sudden interest in our past?"
Henrie hesitated for a moment, his gaze almost distant as if he were grappling with a hidden memory.
"It's peculiar," he mused, his tone more contemplative than he intended. "I had a dream last night, or at least I thought it was a dream. It felt so real, like a recollection of something I'd forgotten."
***
Henrie found himself caught in a strange sense of displacement, as if he had stepped into an alternate dimension where everything appeared larger than he remembered.
The scene before him felt almost surreal - the towering trees, the grand pavilion, and the distant water fountain all seemed to have expanded beyond recognition.
He sprinted forward, following the main canal, but his pace was soon thwarted by the rush of ragged breaths, and he was forced to halt, his hands braced against his knees.
It was at this moment that an unexpected voice reached his ears, yanking him from his haze of disorientation. "What are you doing here?"
Henrie's startled reaction caused him to tumble to the ground. He blinked up at the silver-haired girl who had approached him, his mind attempting to reconcile her with someone familiar.
This was Runa, yet not quite the Runa he knew.
An involuntary recoil seized him as she reached out in an instinctive gesture of assistance, the sensation of her touch churning a strange mix of emotions within him. "Don't touch me!"
Her apology came gently. Henrie observed the subtle details - her silver hair braided, her fingers brushing loose strands behind her ear - each detail like a shard of memory pieced together.
"Are you lost?" she asked, her concern genuine.
"No," he snapped, but a quick survey of his surroundings eroded the illusion of reality. Familiar shoes, small palms, and the realization that he was back in his childhood, swept him into the awareness that this was a dream.
"Do you want me to escort you to the main palace? Are you Duke Georg's son? I saw him coming out of the building already. He must be looking for you. What should we do?" Runa looked around as if she was the one who got lost.
"Don't meddle in my business!" Henrie said harshly. He cursed himself silently. He certainly didn't want to speak that way to Runa, even though it was only in his dream. But he couldn't move as he wanted to.
His body ran toward the building, leaving Runa behind, untouched by gratitude or farewell.