Reloua's heart tightened when she heard Teleu murmur, "Interesting…"
"What is it?" she asked, stepping beside him.
Teleu had been acting strangely ever since they entered Gyan's room. He had insisted on locking the door behind them, had scanned every corner, and now he was studying pieces of paper with the intensity of a general inspecting war maps.
She leaned over and picked up one of the sheets.
Her breath caught.
Beautifully drawn sketches filled the page—precise, neat, almost architectural. They depicted a palace corridor and an ordinary-looking wooden door with nothing special about it except a small round hole in the bottom-right corner. The drawings were so detailed that one could almost imagine standing right before that door.
She shuffled through the other papers. All were the same—corridors, rooms, hidden corners—and next to each were handwritten notes from Gyan with small ticks and crosses.
Chair Storage: Normal looking, won't attract too much suspicion in case of use. ☆
Kitchen Hall: Too much happening. Not good in case of use. □
"What is all this…?" Reloua whispered, eyes widening.
Her little brother had been doing… an investigation? A search? For what?
Teleu was already scanning the notes with fascination, absorbing every detail, mapping out the palace layout effortlessly in his mind.
"It seems Gyan has been searching for something," he said calmly. "And he hasn't found it yet."
Reloua frowned. "But what could he possibly be looking for? Why would he wander the palace sketching every corridor like a little spy? He's only eleven. This doesn't make any sense."
Before Teleu could answer—
Cough… cough…
Reloua froze.
Teleu turned.
On the bed, Gyan stirred. His eyes fluttered open, landing directly on his sister's face. For a moment he looked confused—like someone trying to remember if he was awake or still dreaming.
Then he scratched his cheek lazily.
"Ahhh… yeah," he mumbled sleepily. "This is probably the phenomenon old Kinte talked about… Right! That thing where you wake up in your dream."
A tiny sigh followed.
"I should go back to sleep. Maybe that's how I really wake up…"
He squeezed his eyes shut.
One…
Two…
Three…
Gyan's eyes opened slowly.
For a moment, he simply stared—his gaze unfocused, drifting—until it settled on his sister. His pupils trembled. His lips parted.
"…Sister?"
His voice was barely a breath.
Then he lurched forward, stumbling off the bed and rushing straight into Reloua's arms. He crashed into her with desperate force for someone so small. His thin fingers clutched the fabric of her clothes as if she would disappear the moment he blinked.
"I… I thought I'd never see you again…"
His voice cracked, trembling. "I thought… it was going to be like Mom… I thought you weren't coming back…"
Hot tears spilled down his face and sank into her shoulder.
Reloua's breath caught, her own eyes burning. She wrapped her arms around him tightly—tighter than she ever had—her hand instinctively cradling the back of his head.
"I'm here now," she whispered, voice soft and warm despite the emotion shaking through it. "I'm here, Gyan. Everything is alright."
Teleu stood a few steps away, silent, unmoving—watching the siblings with a blank, unreadable expression. Despite the deadpan face, there was a faint shift in his eyes, a flicker of something that recognized the weight of the moment.
Gyan finally loosened his grip, though his fingers refused to let go entirely. He sniffed and wiped his cheek with his sleeve before looking up at Reloua again.
Then his gaze slid toward Teleu.
"…Who is he?"
Reloua glanced toward Teleu, then back to Gyan. "He is our new guard. And he will be your mentor from now on—martial arts, weaponry, discipline. He will train you personally."
Gyan's red-rimmed eyes narrowed slightly as he examined Teleu—head tilted, quiet, calculating. Teleu returned the stare without blinking, neither bowing nor reacting.
After a moment, Gyan looked back at his sister, his small frame relaxing just slightly in her presence.
Reloua brushed his hair away from his forehead.
"What were you doing with all these sketches, Gyan?"
He hesitated—glancing at the scattered drawings on the bed—then nodded to himself, as if remembering something important.
"It's like you told me before," he began, voice still soft but steadying. "You said… if something so big happened to you, if you disappeared like that… it couldn't have been done by outsiders alone. Someone inside must have helped. Someone who knows our schedules… the palace paths… everything."
He lowered his gaze, fingers gripping one of his papers.
"So if there are spies inside the castle, then… they must have a place where they meet. A hidden room. Somewhere quiet but accessible… a room people wouldn't question if they saw someone near it."
He pointed to one sketch, then another.
"So I started mapping the palace. Every corridor, every door, every storage place. I wanted to narrow down the possible meeting spots. Somewhere they could gather without being noticed. I got close… I eliminated many rooms… but I still haven't found it."
His voice held no arrogance. Just honest, earnest explanation—an innocent genius trying to make sense of a world far crueller than he deserved.
Reloua's chest tightened painfully.
She placed her hand gently on his head, rubbing softly.
"Gyan… children your age shouldn't have to think about things like this."
His eyes lowered, but he nodded.
She turned toward Teleu. "Teleu… can you handle the rest?"
Teleu gave a short but solemn nod. "I will."
Just then—
Knock! Knock! Knock!
All three turned toward the door.
A moment later,
Teleu unlocked and opened the palace door. Old Tai stood outside, breathless and anxious, with several servants behind him carrying trays of steaming food.
The moment Gyan stepped into view, Old Tai's eyes widened—and his face crumpled in relief. "Young Prince…!"
He rushed forward and wrapped Gyan into a trembling hug. Gyan, still fragile from the emotional storm, let himself be held quietly.
The servants entered the room afterward, setting food down for both Reloua and Gyan. Warm dishes filled the once-quiet space with soft clattering sounds and gentle aromas.
Teleu remained at the doorway, watching silently.
When everything was settled and the siblings had begun to eat, he stepped outside and took his position in front of the prince's small palace—back straight, eyes scanning the garden with cold vigilance.
Inside, the dim echoes of grief slowly gave way to soft conversation, gentle laughter, and the fragile comfort of a family reunited.