・┆At Aster’s room┆・

Night had fallen, and Aster, still reeling from the disaster of her morning, sat hunched over her desk. Candlelight flickered across the worn pages of her textbook, casting restless shadows over the clutter—scribbled notes, crumpled paper, and an inkwell half-drained from her relentless writing. She pored over numerical analysis problems, determined to redeem herself. Unlike Randall, who grasped complex equations as if they were child’s play, she had to wrestle with every concept, forcing her mind to make sense of the numbers.

She tapped her pen against her chin, rereading the same problem for the third time.

“Finally! That makes sense,” she muttered then groaned, dropping her face onto the open book. “I must’ve looked so stupid. A scholar girl like me, unable to solve a basic problem?”

Her fingers idly traced the edge of the pages as another thought crept in.

‘What would Lord Ranley think? Did he see me as a fool?’

She shook her head, forcing the thought aside… there were more pressing concerns.

But then Randall came to mind…the way he had helped her yet again, slipping her the solution on a small piece of paper.

Her hands curled into fists.

‘Ugh… another embarrassing moment in front of him. Maybe he pitied me. Does he see me as some helpless idiot struggling to keep up?‘

She groaned, ruffling her hair as though she could shake the thought out. The notion made her stomach churn with frustration.

A soft knock at the door pulled her back to the present.

Aunt Sally entered, carrying a wooden tray with a clay cup of warm milk and a plate of simple biscuits she had bought from the market earlier that day. She set them down beside Aster with a knowing smile.

“Still at it, I see,” Aunt Sally mused.

Aster sighed, stretching her stiff arms. “I don’t have a choice. This morning was humiliating. I don’t want to embarrass myself again.”

Aunt Sally chuckled softly. “Humiliation builds character, Aster. But exhausting yourself will only make it worse. Even the brightest minds need rest.” She gently pushed the cup toward her. “Come now, at least drink a little.”

“Thank you, Aunt Sally. You always think of me, even with little things like this.”

Aster picked up a biscuit, her lips curving into a faint smile. Even after a long day, Aunt Sally still found time to fuss over her.

“Just a short break,” she murmured, softer this time. “I can’t afford to fall behind.”

Aunt Sally ruffled her hair gently. “You’ve got a good heart and a determined spirit, Aster. That will take you further than any equation ever will. But don’t forget to live a little too, alright?”

Aster nodded and took a sip of the warm milk, the simple comfort easing her frayed nerves as Aunt Sally quietly left the room.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

In the dim hallway, Aunt Sally paused outside her bedroom door, her thoughts drifting to a memory long buried in time.

✦ Flashback ✦

A man, young and handsome, with long golden hair loosely tied at the end, embraced her with a warm, gentle smile.

She had been struggling, doubting herself, ready to give up. But his words had stopped her.

“You have a good heart and a determined spirit, Sally. That will take you further than any obstacle ever will. Just don’t forget to live a little too, alright?”

✦ End ✦

Back in the present, Aunt Sally pressed a hand to her face, trying to stop her tears from falling.

“Luca…”

As she sat on her bed, another memory surfaced, the time she visited the Celestial Link.

✦ Flashback ✦

The scent of burning incense and aged paper filled the dimly lit shop as Aunt Sally stepped inside. Shadows danced along the walls, cast by flickering candlelight. Behind a low wooden table, a woman draped in deep blue robes studied her with knowing eyes.

“I heard you can answer anything that is asked of you,” Aunt Sally said in a humble tone.

“You heard well.” The fortune teller tilted her head slightly. “Then that means you also know that I only do so in exchange for a large sum of gold.”

Aunt Sally sighed, already expecting such a response. But before she could protest, the woman’s gaze softened.

“However, since you are a rose to my precious one,” the fortune teller murmured, her voice carrying an almost melodic lilt, “I will ask for little in return.”

Aunt Sally frowned. “What does that mean?”

The fortune teller only smiled, motioning for her to sit.

Unsure of what to even ask, Aunt Sally hesitated. But before she could form the words, the woman spoke first, as if reading the question from her heart.

“The wandering light has not fallen, only lost in the endless sky.”

“Wait for his return, though his steps may waver.”

“Guard the sun he entrusted to you, for she holds the key to the dawn’s promise.”

“The answers will seek you when he is ready to remember.”

Just then, a commotion stirred outside, voices rising near the shop. The fortune teller’s gaze flickered toward the door, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“Ahh… it seems the dawn’s promise is nearing, for the sun and moon have already met, and they are waiting just outside this door.”

Aunt Sally blinked, her hands tightening in her lap. “What—”

But before she could press further, the fortune teller stood. “Your payment only covers this much.” She gestured toward the entrance, silently urging her to leave.

✦ End ✦

As her memory faded, Aunt Sally exhaled, rubbing her temples as she lay back on her bed.

“Maybe she really was just a sham,” she muttered.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Meanwhile, in a secluded dining hall overlooking the garden, Randall and Wren sat across from each other, enjoying a quiet meal. Unlike the grand banquets held for nobility, this private space offered them a rare moment of peace, away from the scrutinizing eyes of the aristocracy. The glow of chandeliers reflected off polished silverware, and the faint aroma of roasted duck and herbs lingered in the air.

Wren, lazily cutting into his meal, suddenly paused. His fork hovered midair as something clicked in his mind.

“Now I remember!”

Randall, who had just taken a measured sip of the light red wine poured for dinner, nearly choked. He coughed, hastily reaching for a napkin while shooting Wren an irritated look.

Unbothered, Wren continued. “Miss Winslow. She was the one in the market that day, wasn’t she? The boy we saw—that was her!”

Randall’s grip on his glass tightened before he set it down with deliberate care. His sharp gaze met Wren’s.

“Keep your voice down and eat.”

Wren leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I’m just curious, that’s all. What was she doing in the market dressed like that? It’s not every day a girl disguises herself as a boy and wanders around alone. Especially someone from an academy like this.”

With a nonchalant exhale, Randall said, “It’s none of your concern. And I suggest you keep quiet about it in class.”

Wren studied him for a moment, then shrugged. “You’re being oddly protective about this.”

Randall didn’t reply. He simply picked up his fork and resumed eating as if the conversation had never happened.

But Wren couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Randall’s reaction than he was letting on.

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