I came back with the water bottle in hand. Its weight was negligible, but the price I’d paid for it lingered in my mind. Not because of the monetary value, but what it represented. Giving in to a system I still don’t fully understand always leaves me with a faint unease.
That’s when I ran into someone familiar.
“Fancy running into you here,” Reginald said, carrying a bag that looked like it held a portable hardware store.
“Just came for a bottle of water.”
“I see. And your sister?”
“At the park, waiting for the line to shrink so we can register for the academy and take the entrance exam.”
“Today’s the day!? Good heavens, time flies. To think we met when you were barely eight years old…”
“Huh? Oh, you’re right.” I paused briefly, not out of nostalgia, but habit. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Buying new tools to keep working on the armor machine prototype.”
“You haven’t finished it? I thought you’d at least be testing it by now.”
“Oh, I’ve done tests. Problem is, some wires got crossed, and when I tried to fix it, I botched the whole thing. It’s not easy making a one-meter arm move without feeling like you’re dragging lead, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah… I get it.” I said it more out of politeness than technical know-how. “Why are you coming with me, though? The workshop’s on the other side.”
“Thought I’d hang out with you guys for a bit before heading back. I want to show you some progress. After all, you did a solid job with the venom bird.”
“You really think so?”
“Absolutely.”
“Venom bird.” That’s what Isolde and I decided to call it. A little makeshift creation: a steam-powered automaton we designed with Reginald a few months ago. The goal was for it to shoot tiny poisoned darts, but crossed wires made it trickier than expected. Nothing flows smoothly when theory turns to practice. Still, it worked. Unstably, but it worked.
With the academy about to take up most of our time, mechanical projects will have to take a backseat. Not an immediate issue, but something I’ll need to consider if I want to keep learning on my own. Institutional knowledge is never enough. Not for someone like me.
“Oh… Damn. That’s one hell of a line,” Reginald said, finally spotting the queue stretching across the park. “It wasn’t even this long when I enrolled…”
“Feeling discouraged? As punishment for tagging along, now you have to wait with us.”
“Lucy!” Isolde’s voice cut through the conversation like a thunderclap. She came sprinting at full speed, Alicia trailing behind… and an adult. She wasn’t where I’d asked her to wait. Of course. “Lucy, guess what!”
“What…? Agh!” She launched herself at me like it was a planned tackle. We both hit the ground, my back complaining first, followed by my head.
“Guess what, guess what…”
“What’s with you? Why’d you do that? That hurt.”
“Hahaha.”
She caught me completely off guard. I didn’t expect her to throw herself at me with that much force… or for me to land so badly. My head hit the ground. It wasn’t serious, though it could’ve been if I hadn’t turned slightly at the last second. The world spun for a moment. But it’s fine.
I got up from the ground as soon as Isolde climbed off me. I rubbed my head with my left hand, then shook out my hair to regain some composure. The pain was mild. Expected. Proportional to her enthusiasm.
“Hahaha. I thought you’d dodge me,” Isolde laughed.
“Impossible. I didn’t even realize you were charging until it was too late,” I muttered, a hint of annoyance in my voice. The blame was mutual. Her for launching herself, me for not reacting.
“Oh… Uncle Reginald. What are you doing here?” Isolde turned her attention to Reginald, who was still standing beside me with his bag of tools.
Reginald grinned, his usual carefree, slightly chaotic energy shining through.
“Nothing at all. Thought it’d be nice to tag along for your registration and then head to the workshop to show you some progress. Teach you the next step. Though…” He glanced at the line with resignation. “I guess this’ll take longer than I expected.”
“Well, I think that can be fixed,” Alicia chimed in, stepping closer with an oddly confident expression. Then she flashed a smile at Reginald.
Something about that smile felt… off. Like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.
I turned to Reginald. His reaction was instant: sweat beading on his forehead, eyes widening, jaw tensing. A mix of shock and relief I couldn’t quite gauge.
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“P-Princess…?” he stammered, dropping his bag as if its contents had vanished from his mind.
…What?
I slowly turned to Isolde. She shot me a look brimming with questions. I just shrugged. I didn’t have answers. Not yet.
“Princess?” I asked, though the answer was already obvious. Alicia stood with a natural grace, her posture too refined for an ordinary person. Her presence was an unspoken declaration. I’d noticed it before but never thought to question it.
“You mean…?” I started, but stopped. Alicia didn’t need verbal confirmation. Her silence said it all.
“I… I thought you wouldn’t return until after nineteen winters,” Reginald murmured, trying to catch his breath—and maybe some dignity.
“Well… things got out of hand in Caldarien. I had to come back. I was a burden to Esil, so I stepped away. I guess now I’ll have to study here instead of on the elven continent.”
Her words were simple, but they hinted at a story none of us here knew… yet.
“Everyone was worried about your health, Princess. Even your father has been constantly asking about your condition. H-How? When?”
Meanwhile, I stayed silent. It wasn’t confusion I felt, but an urgent need to process. Interrupting a formal reunion between a princess and her… protector? Servant? would be rude. And, more importantly, counterproductive. Information flows best when you listen.
Unfortunately, not everyone shared that principle.
“Hold on! Princess? Caldarien? Are you saying she, Alicia, is the princess of the kingdom? The daughter of King Leo?” Isolde burst in with a barrage of questions, as expected. She never knew how to wait for answers. She demanded them.
I looked away. Not out of embarrassment. Out of respect. Or rather, to let the conversation unfold without my interference.
“Huh? Oh… Sorry for keeping it hidden all this time,” Alicia replied, not losing an ounce of composure. It was admirable. She didn’t falter or justify herself. She just explained. “I didn’t want anyone to know I was here. I was hoping to blend in. But seeing Reginald brought back a moment from my childhood I… missed.”
A pause. Silence. An emotional statement. Genuine.
“But… how the hell did you hide it so well? You’ve been here for six years, right? We were six when we first met. How did no one figure it out?”
Good question, Isolde.
And, finally, I wanted to know, too.
“Bribes,” Alicia said, visibly embarrassed, her gaze dropping. “I had to bribe the guards, servants, anyone who recognized me, to keep quiet about where I was. I even dyed my hair and wore contact lenses to hide my appearance, but… it didn’t last long.”
Her explanation, though simple, was precise enough to fill in the gaps. She’d used money and appearance as tools to carve out her freedom. Not something just anyone could pull off. In fact, it was exactly what you’d expect from someone who knows their worth in a world that doesn’t let you choose for yourself.
No one spoke. Reginald, though, slowly crouched down and hugged her. The tension that had gripped him unraveled like a rope finally cut loose.
“It’s good to have you back, Princess. I hope this time you can find some peace, now that you’re home.”
“Thank you,” Alicia replied, returning the gesture gently.
Isolde and I just exchanged a glance. No words. Just a quiet, shared smile. The kind you give when you witness something intimate but not yours.
Our attention shifted to the man Alicia had brought with her. A silent but present figure. Like a shadow waiting its turn.
“And who’s he?” I asked.
“I’m merely a humble secretary,” he replied with a slight bow. “Princess Alicia personally requested that I assist you with your registration, so you wouldn’t have to wait in line. Please, write your names on this form.”
He handed me a clipboard. I took it, along with the pen. Official paper. Mid-grade ink. The kind of details you notice when you’re nervous and trying to seem calm.
“Just my name?”
“That’s right.”
“Got it.”
Isolde leaned in as I wrote. Lucius Van D’Arques. A name too long for someone so young. Or maybe the perfect name for the person I want to become. Who knows? Maybe the name’s all I’ll have left if I fail.
“Here,” I said.
“Thanks.”
She wrote hers. I watched each stroke. Isolde Equidna D’Arques. A great name for a great girl. Her handwriting was bold, decisive. So different from mine. She outdid me in that, too.
“Done. Here you go. So, we’re registered for the entrance exam now?” I asked, just to confirm. Always better to double-check, even when it seems obvious.
“Absolutely. The exam is in one week, Sunday at 10:30 a.m., in the academy courtyard, 35th Street, Margaret District. The institution and staff wish you the best of luck.”
“Thank you,” we both said in unison.
The secretary bid us farewell with a deeper bow, then vanished into the crowd.
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Secretary,” Alicia said. Then she sighed. “Well, I think that’s all my work done. Now… after Reginald spotted me, I’ll have to face something bigger. I’m off.”
It made sense. Her disguise was blown, her anonymity shattered. Returning to the castle was inevitable. I wanted to ask where she’d been hiding all these years… but it wasn’t the time. Some things are better left to settle. Though, I won’t lie—the curiosity was eating at me.
“Please, Princess, speak with your father,” Reginald said, serious for the first time all morning.
“Of course. Well, see you.”
And just like that, she was gone.
I let out a sigh.
“I can’t believe it… How did I miss something so obvious? She’s… literally the spitting image of him.”
“Come on, don’t overthink it. Plenty of people look alike. You might even run into your doppelg?nger someday,” Reginald replied.
“That’s terrifying!” Isolde shuddered. “I can’t imagine seeing myself times two.”
We both laughed. Sometimes, laughter’s the only cure for the absurd.
“Anyway, it’s good to have the Princess back. I hope she sorts things out with the King. Now, let’s head to the workshop. I’ve got to show you my progress,” Reginald said, turning to leave.
He left his bag on the ground.
“Forgetting something?”
“Huh? Oh! Haha… Sorry.” He doubled back and grabbed the bag.
“Good grief…”
And so, we followed him to the workshop.
The morning still had time to give. And we had things to build. But deep down, I couldn’t stop thinking about Alicia. About how she hid herself. About how she explained it all so effortlessly. What else is behind that cheerful girl’s facade?