How to Live as the Enemy Prince

Kind of like Bern for Kiri and Hina.

Whitlin. That's what Whitlin would do to Freya. Of course, Hina doesn't know the exact meaning of the last name, but that doesn't mean it doesn't matter.

So for Freya, what kind of person is Whitlin?

- Wheeing!

Noisy outside the window and quiet inside the house.

The fierce wind continued to knock on the window, and the house was completely dark thanks to the sky covered by the clouds. Of course, the noise and darkness did not interfere with the house.

However, the result was enough to upset Kalian's mind.

- Cheers.

After a short sigh, Khalian closes the door and looks around.

Elf lifestyles are not that different from humans.

The biggest difference is the extent to which Khalian will never understand a diet after a lifetime. If Plants were to be dropped into any Elf Village right now, Plants was confident that he would be able to live a very satisfied diet without any discomfort.

Fireplaces and sofas, low tables and bookshelves, and distant kitchens and shelves. It was no different from any other house I had experienced during my time outside the enemy palace in Bern.

- Peppermint, peppermint.

Calian's feet move.

You hear footsteps as you know it's an empty house where no one lives. Now it was a courtesy to the owners of this house that I hope they found a new home safely elsewhere.

Calian's gaze shifts.

A book is unfolded on the table, and a dried cup of tea is next to it, as if the sudden fight that took place outside the town didn't even pack properly.

After confirming that there was nothing underground and that there was nothing special on the first floor, Calian slowly walked up the stairs again.

A small empty space on the second floor connected to the stairs.

A rocking chair sits at the window where the sunlight will be best. Four doors emerge as we pass through it. Kalian bites his heart that he wants to open the farthest door first and starts opening it from a nearby visit.

Two bedrooms, and a bathroom.

Is there any room to hide something, or is there a book or document with a prominent title, or does it smell of blood? I thought of those waiting outside, but I searched thoroughly without missing anything.

- Peppermint.

And I stood in front of the last room.

Calian takes a big breath and opens the door.

"This is different."

It's different from the air.

The first thing I wanted to come in was not a bad idea, but the smell of dust I felt when I opened the door.

A room that had been empty for a long time. A room that has been empty for a long, long time, longer than the day the owners of this house had to avoid their bodies elsewhere. There was a strange old dust smell that could occur in such places.

Calian takes a moment to think about taking a firm curtain to keep the sun down. He just looks around.

An old bed, an old piano, and an old desk.

On top of it.

- Peppermint.

An old frame with a small portrait.

Calian's feet are still.

In the portrait, sitting on an old chair, his hair was red looking ahead.

Red. Not the red light of a rose in Chermill Palace's garden, but the red light that makes your eyes ache for a long time. It was bright red, like Laflania celebrating the birth or Anelucia comforting death.

One that Callian knows well, or knows nothing about. with a hair of light I've only ever seen from one person. Someone who was an Elf, but didn't have long ears. Someone a little younger than the current Calian.She looks a lot like the current Calian.

It was Freya.

"Thought so."

Calian quietly extends his arm.

I put my fingertips on the face in the picture.

"You're beautiful, ever since you were a kid. Really."

Whispering.

Probably the first time I ever sang it to her face.

As an old Kalian, as a new Kalian.

"· · · · · · · Mother."

Calian carefully moves his fingertips.

I touched my forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, and fingertips.

If I wasn't wearing a white dress, if I hadn't let go of my long, crimson hair, I would have touched my likeness in the mirror for a long time.

Unlike the remaining portraits in the royal palace, the face smiles so brightly and wants to put the warmth in the painting on the skin. Just like I want to let you know about the body that holds the Kalian now, not the head.

Soon, Kalian straightens his waist and looks around and speaks to himself.

"I don't want to leave it in an empty house."

It was an empty house.

I was in a hurry to get away from the book, so I didn't want to blame her for leaving the only painting of the queen as a child. I was just wondering if I should leave it, if I should take it, or if I should leave it. If he comes back, he'll be a thief.

Calian opens his desk drawer, hesitating in front of the frame for a moment. This is why I decided to leave a note and take the portrait in case the owner returns.

- Queek!

A drawer that had not been used properly opened for a long time and made a disturbing sound. Calian frowns for a moment. I looked into the drawer.

I kept my eyes on what was in it.

"What is this?"

The blink of an eye stops for a moment. I stopped for a moment when I was on my way. I was surprised as if my own beating heart would sink.

The white fingertips move slowly.

Afterward, I lifted up another painting, not a portrait on the desk, that was bigger than what was in the drawer. With that wind, something that was in the drawer together rolled out of the drawer.

The sound of paper. And...

- Daughter.

do.

The buzzing continues.

* * *

I've seen the world in big glass beads.

A white world made of fine pottery.

Turn the glass beads with houses smaller than your fingernails and a single finger, and when you put them down, the white snow falls down.

- You're mocking me.

I like the silence. I remember the voice I heard while looking a few times. I remember the dark blue eyes that looked deep in my heart. Until then, I was still having a short conversation.

- Why is this a taunt?

- What do you look like, looking at the world in the palm of your hand, unlike your mother?

Bricks smaller than mustard seeds, windows. A small world that was clearly carefully grilled and carefully grilled, each leaf and the grain of a tree trunk.

The devotion of the person who made it remained with no place but the intention of the person who delivered it. In the middle of the summer, the beauty of the snowy glass beads remained a mockery of the prince who was blindfolded in his mother's hands.

"Wizard."

"Yes, my lieutenant commander."

"Shield. Put it away."

The snow on the shield.

Arsen's round shield looks like a glass bead.

"What's the matter? There's a lot of wind out there."

"· · · · · · suffocated."

I can't breathe today.

Arsenal, who saw such plants, moved its magic. As usual, you walk the shield without a word, making it clear that the shield has good airflow. However, I did not completely eliminate it, but only kicked out half of it to block the direction of the blizzard.

He didn't even ask me to go inside the house.

If it's related to Freya, there's nothing I can do to help you in that state.

After escaping the winter, when I came all the way to Cekrytia, I saw the prince who remembered the winter by himself, and the voice of Arsen, who was holding his mouth still for a while.

"The first day I met my teacher, I didn't say hello. I don't know what I was feeling, but I was so proud."

Plants turns his head to the sound of sudden releases as much as Callian. The words of Arsenal continue toward a pale face that may be tired of the cold or bored of memory.

"Then he put his hands on the wall for three hours. Whether it's an adult or a teacher or a dog in front of him. Why don't you say hello? So I was punished, and I didn't use my arm properly for just three days. After that month, whenever I see someone for the first time, my arm aches. It's been more than twenty years, and I'll never forget it."

As you recall, Arsen rubs his forearms a few times and opens his mouth again.

"Then I just remembered you again." I don't know what comes to mind, but I'd love to get rid of it, and I'd love to get rid of it, but you don't have to do that. It's not because you're different, it's because you're just like everyone else. "

Soon, Arsen tapped the shield a few times. When the wind blows, the snow accumulates and falls to the floor.

Plants looks up at Arsenal and opens his mouth a long time later.

"You never told me that before."

"Why? I don't think you would have waged a war if someone told you that."

"No."

Plants' head twists horribly. I looked down at the person and lowered my voice.

"I'm not the kind of person who can rot away in her hands for the rest of her life. I wouldn't have even thought of starting a war if I could stop a few crazy wizard words."

At this point, Arsen nods his head moderately, exhausted from the unfamiliar uplifting.

And this time, Plants continued.

"But there wouldn't have been a war."

I'm not the one who stopped the war in a few words from Arsen, but if I had been able to exchange a few words with Arsen, there wouldn't have been a war. Plants told a story that was hard to understand.

"If I had known how to have this conversation with someone, I would have sent a memorandum to recognize and understand the undermanned prince."

It was not until Arsenal understood what Plants had said that Arsenal was missing.

"Yeah, well. Sure."

"Thank you for your concern."

Yes, of course. Arsen, who was about to answer, kept his mouth shut. It's because I first heard the prince say thank you.

I have never personally opened my mouth to say thank you to Hina Strawberry and Needleren's Herbal Shell, and I may know that I did not do it to Kalian, who made an implicit promise not to say thank you and apologize.

"How did that come to mean?"

"Good."

The largely unappreciated Arsen grumbles and Plants gives him a short nod.

Taking out the shield, making for an endless winter.

* * *

Calian closes his eyes and opens.

I can barely get my hair clear.

In one hand, Kalian takes a new picture he just lifted up, and in the other, he struggles to inhale and exhale.

I feel like I'm gonna suffocate if I don't.

- Daughter.

I can hear the sound as I lower my hand.

I had to.

This drop is made to make sound, so when it moves, it makes sound.

But what surprised Kalian was not the usual drops. It was because it looked too familiar.

"Why. Same thing · · · · · · · here."

Suddenly, a word came out of my mouth.

The Swordmaster who said he was going to stay in the capital in lieu of Khalian. He was digging behind Xeon. The bubble on the tip of Siona's sword. It was the same as the droplet.

It was obvious that there were only drops in the world.

The rope that Kalian cut once. The rope that is tied back together without the desire to get a new rope. It was the same with the shape of the string on this drop, the appearance of the bubble, the sound, the size. They were all the same. It was exactly the same thing.

Of course, if it had been a drop, nothing would have been so strange.

Siona said she had already spent her childhood with Freya. Friendship means toy drops, and you can share them equally. Even if you were close to the person who was staying in this house, not Freya. You can share as much as you want. It was nothing strange.

By the way.

But...

- Parlack.

The sound of the paper crunching echoes through the empty room again.

I felt the smell of cooling blood again, not the smell of old dust.

Another portrait.

Freya, dressed in a white dress, was smiling brightly, just like the picture on her desk. Next to her, she looked much younger, with light pink hair and golden eyes.

And another one standing next to Siona.

Calian's eyes do not rest in his presence.

White and white feet.

Black eyes.

Her ears are longer and her hair is much shorter than she knows. Perhaps the height of the person in the picture is larger. But they do. They certainly do.

A smile as clear as Freya's.

A smile that will light up the world.

"· · · · · · · Hina."

Much like Hina, but definitely someone else.

Freya, Ciona, Whitlin.

Because of the names written under the portrait of that person.

Calian holds his breath again.