It was already noon by the time the two princesses were ready to head out. Zuleika led the way with a cheerful spring in her step, her crimson eyes practically glowing as they entered the bustling streets of Nexus. From time to time, townsfolk stopped to greet her with warmth and respect, pressing gifts into her hands—baskets of fruit, sweet bread, small trinkets, even skewered meats fresh off the grill.
Aquila kept pace at her side, her posture as regal as ever despite the plain clothes she wore. Still, her eyes darted from face to face, quietly taking in how naturally Zuleika fit into this world.
"Is this how your casual walks usually go?" Aquila asked at last, raising a brow as another vendor slipped Zuleika a neatly wrapped pastry.
Zuleika laughed lightly, hugging the bundle of gifts to her chest. "Pretty much, yes. Nexus people are very warmhearted. I guess you could say this is normal for me."
Normal. The word caught in Aquila's chest. She couldn't imagine walking through Feltogora's capital streets and being greeted with kindness instead of hushed whispers or wary bows.
Before she could dwell further, Zuleika tore off a piece of the pastry and offered it to her. "Here. You can't explore Nexus on an empty stomach."
Aquila hesitated, then accepted it with a small nod. The taste was simple, sweet, and unexpectedly comforting. Yet even as she chewed, her mind wasn't on the food.
Her first love.
The words from breakfast still echoed in her ears, lingering like a thorn beneath her skin. Zuleika had said it so casually, so easily, but Aquila couldn't let it go.
Who was it? Who could make her smile so fondly, speak with that kind of softness?
She glanced sideways at Zuleika, who was busy chatting with a passing merchant as if nothing weighed on her heart. Aquila's lips pressed together. She wanted to ask, wanted to demand the name, but something stopped her—fear, perhaps. Or maybe the quiet, ridiculous hope that the answer was one she already knew.
For the first time that day, Aquila found she couldn't enjoy the lively streets or the colorful festival atmosphere. All she could think about was that one question burning in her chest.
Then they sat on a bench, resting with piles of food on their laps—gifts from the people of Nexus. Zuleika was happily munching away while Aquila ate at her usual steady pace, her mind elsewhere.
She finally spoke.
"Your first love…" Aquila's eyes stayed on the crispy potato in her hand, though she could feel Zuleika's gaze shift toward her.
"What did she look like?"
Silence.
"I don't know."
Aquila's brow furrowed. She snapped her head toward Zuleika, only for her silver eyes to soften again at the sight of the other princess's face. Zuleika looked genuinely thoughtful, as if she were confessing the truth.
"What do you mean?" Aquila pressed.
Zuleika chomped down on the skewer in front of her before answering.
"You see, I met her when I was fourteen. That was the time my body started to manifest the power from our blood."
Aquila stayed quiet, listening closely.
"Back then, I was… isolated." Zuleika's smile turned bitter, her gaze drifting away.
"In the Vasiliou family, I was also one who inherited Father's crimson eyes." She tapped a finger beneath her lashes, pointing at the very eyes that shimmered now in the daylight.
"What about it?" Aquila asked, tilting her head.
"The power that manifested in me was too strong. They had no choice but to blindfold me—for half a year."
Aquila's lips parted slightly, but Zuleika waved her hand as if to brush away the weight of it.
"But it's alright! I understood, even back then. I was just a child though… so of course I felt sad." She let out a small laugh, light but touched with something fragile.
"Then came my elder sister's coming-of-age ceremony…"
Aquila leaned in slightly, curious.
"I hated it," Zuleika pouted, her voice softening into a childish whine. "I couldn't see her because of the blindfold. And when I begged Father to let me take it off—just for a moment—he refused. So I got mad at him." She laughed again, the memory silly in her tone but heavy in its undertone.
Her laughter faded into a softer smile. "And that's when I first met her."
"That day, I stormed off the Coral Palace because I was mad at Father," Zuleika recalled, her tone caught between embarrassment and nostalgia.
Aquila pictured it—the younger version of Zuleika, still only fourteen, wandering through the dim halls. A thin strip of black cloth tied firmly around her eyes, her steps hesitant yet stubborn. She moved with her chin raised high, fists clenched at her sides, trying to look dignified despite the tears threatening to spill.
"That night I got… somewhat lost," Zuleika admitted with a sheepish laugh. "The Coral Palace was being renovated at that time, and the whole structure was difficult to memorize."
Ah, so that explains it, Aquila thought. That's why the palace has such a strange layout now.
"I couldn't remove my blindfold though," Zuleika went on, her expression softening. "I was too afraid of the power that might come out of me. And then… there she came." She laughed lightly at the memory.
"I only remembered her voice. Carefree… almost playful. She just walked up to me and said—"
"'Why do you look like that?'" Zuleika mimicked, lowering her voice to imitate the girl.
The younger Zuleika, blindfolded and tense, had turned her head toward the sound. "Who's there?" she demanded warily.
"You do not need to be alert. I won't hurt… someone… blind." The girl's voice had paused awkwardly, as though she feared she might offend her.
"That's rude!" young Zuleika snapped, fists trembling at her sides.
"And so?" the girl countered.
"You're annoying! Don't you know who I am!?" Zuleika's younger self was nearly trembling with anger, her pride stinging.
"I don't. And I don't care," the girl answered flatly.
Zuleika's lips parted as she told the memory, her voice faltering as if she could still feel the sting. "I was almost at the verge of crying. And then I—wahhh—I actually cried."
She laughed at herself, covering her face briefly. "'You're so rude and annoying! Just who are you!?' I sobbed at her."
"'Urgh, you seem older than me, yet you're such a crybaby,'" the girl teased.
Zuleika had then heard soft footsteps drawing closer. A small hand rested gently on her head.
"'There, there,' she said. And somehow… it was effective." Zuleika chuckled softly at the absurdity.
She continued, "I told her everything. Why I was angry, why I hated being blindfolded. And she just listened. But when I finished—"
"'That's it?'" the girl had sounded almost disappointed. "'You know your family cares about you, right? They're just trying to protect you.'"
"'B-but—'"
"'No buts. You should apologize to your Father, you know? Geez…' she scolded me."
Zuleika smiled faintly at the memory, her voice softening. "Then, more footsteps came. I was still sniffling when I asked her again—'Who are you?'"
"'Urgh, does it matter?' she said."
"'Of course it does! I can't see you, you know!'"
"'Hmm. Then…'" Zuleika's expression shifted into something dreamy, like she could still hear it in her ear.
"'Once you're allowed to take that blindfold off, you should find me. That'll be easy for you, right? You know my voice.'"
Zuleika laughed, remembering her childish protest. "'That's not easy! Voices change over time!'"
"'Argh, you're persistent!' she groaned at me."
Then Zuleika's voice softened, almost reverent. "And then… an adult voice called out to her—'Aki!'"
Her crimson eyes softened as though treasuring the sound. "She said, 'Oh, Mother, wait, I'm coming!' And in my ears… it was probably the prettiest voice I had ever heard."
Zuleika exhaled, a soft wistfulness lacing her tone. "She waved goodbye before I could even say another word. Just left me there with her voice in my memory."
Then Zuleika looked at Aquila, her lips parting into a faint grin.
m
"That's it, end of story—tadah!"
Zuleika couldn't quite read Aquila's expression. The other princess sat there, her silver gaze unreadable, until finally she spoke.
"And… you consider that rude child your first love?" Aquila asked, her voice deceptively calm.
Zuleika blinked, then smiled softly, the kind of smile that carried warmth from a memory long past.
"Yes. After that, I started being a bit more carefree and playful because of her. Though… I never got the chance to see her or hear her voice again."
Silence stretched for a moment. Zuleika tilted her head curiously. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Is there a bathroom near here?" Aquila asked, her lips twitching as though she were holding back something.
Zuleika burst into laughter, nearly dropping the skewer in her hand. "You held it in all this time? I can't believe you waited until I finished my story—pfft!" She laughed again, clutching her stomach. "Ridiculous…"
Or so she thought.
When Aquila entered the bathroom, the moment the door shut, her composure cracked. She marched straight to the mirror, her hand flying to her lips as if trying to hold something in. Her reflection betrayed her—her pale skin flushed a bright, undeniable red.
Her heart hammered so violently that she pressed a hand against her chest, half-convinced she might be dying.
"What do I do? What do I do?" she muttered in panic, cupping her cheeks as though trying to cool them.
Her mind replayed the memory—her younger self, teasing that blindfolded girl, patting her head, leaning down to whisper. She let out a strangled groan.
"Ughhh! I didn't know that blindfolded crybaby was Zuleika!"
She buried her face in her hands, muffling an embarrassed laugh that escaped anyway.
"I told her to find me? Who even says that!?" she groaned, pacing in circles. "And patting her head—what was I thinking? Arghhh…"
She stopped, staring at her own reflection again, her silver eyes wide with disbelief.
"She actually… remembered me?" she whispered, voice softer now.
But the redness on her cheeks deepened all the more. With a frustrated growl, she splashed cold water onto her face, muttering under her breath.
"Get a grip, Aquila. You're supposed to be intimidating, not… not—ugh!—like this."
Still staring at her own reflection, Aquila groaned.
"I was so silly back then because of Mother but—argh!" She buried her face in her hands again, dragging them down slowly until her cheeks puffed.
Her lips twisted as she stared at her reflection miserably. "Did my little self have no shame back then? Why would you even say things like that—'find me,' 'there, there'—ugh!"
She bit her lower lip, bouncing slightly on her heels like a child who couldn't keep still.
"What kind of future princess says stuff like that? So embarrassing!"
Then, unbidden, Zuleika's smile from earlier flashed in her mind—the way her crimson eyes softened when she spoke about that first love. The way she had cherished that memory.
Aquila's stomach twisted. "And I can't believe I just got jealous of my younger self…"
She froze, her own words echoing in her head. Slowly, her silver eyes widened at her reflection. "Jealous? Huh? Who—me? Why would I be jealous of Zuleika's first love?"
She gripped the sink, leaning closer to the mirror as if interrogating herself.
"Ridiculous. Completely absurd. I am not jealous."
Silence.
"…I'm jealous," she whispered dramatically, smacking her forehead against the cool glass of the mirror.
She pulled back, pointing at her reflection accusingly.
"Do I… like her? But that's impossible!"
Her voice rose in pitch, and she slapped her own cheeks to chase away the thought.
"I don't like Zuleika. No. Impossible. Nonsense. Absolutely not."
But then her pulse quickened, and the memory of Zuleika's laughter—her carefree grin when teasing her—played again in her head.
"Arghhh, just thinking of her makes me—" She paused, blinking rapidly. "Wait. No. No, see? It doesn't even make my heart race. It only… annoys me!"
She placed a hand over her chest, feeling the frantic beat beneath her palm. "…This is annoyance. Pure annoyance. Very strong, very persistent annoyance. Definitely not attraction."
She groaned again, ruffling her hair until strands stuck out wildly.
"Ugh! What is wrong with me!? Am I broken? Do I need medicine? Maybe it's the food she gave me—it must be poisoned!"
And yet, as she leaned against the sink, muttering to herself like a lunatic, a shy little smile crept to her lips without permission.
"Her voice really hasn't changed at all…" she whispered, almost fondly, before she slapped both hands over her mouth in horror.
For a moment, she stood there in stunned silence, crimson still burning at her cheeks.
"…I'm doomed."