Mero casts a final glance at the train slowly receding into the horizon, as though it were carrying away a piece of his memories and doubts. This train, imposing and modern, embodies the passage of time and the inevitable march of fate—a fate that, for the second son of the Salt King, has always been woven between the legacy of a glorious past and the promises of an uncertain future. Without wasting a moment, he heads toward the door of his carriage, where a servant with an impassive face awaits him. That face, etched with the sternness of duty and the chill of propriety, betrays no emotion save for the precision of urgency in his demeanor.
The departure is fast approaching, and Mero knows he must reach the station, a place still unfamiliar to him yet brimming with mystery and possibility. As he moves through the lavishly decorated corridors of the hotel complex, a blend of excitement and apprehension washes over him. From a young age, he has learned to temper his emotions in the face of a world where luxury, protocol, and hierarchy coexist with unrelenting regularity. Yet, in this precise moment, his heart beats with a new intensity—that of a man poised to cross a threshold that might well mark a turning point in his life.
Guided by the silent servant, Mero traverses corridors lined with intricately carved woodwork and sumptuous carpets, testaments to the magnificence of the Empire, that central power governing not only his kingdom but a multitude of lands and influences. Each step echoes like a reverberation of the past; each glance at the refined decor reminds him that he is no longer the child who once peered curiously into the mysteries of his youth, but a young man destined to shoulder responsibilities laden with meaning. Amid this opulent setting, he feels like a stranger, torn between the duty to uphold an imperial tradition and the burning desire to pursue his own aspirations.
Soon, Mero steps outside the complex. The air is crisp and brisk, a stark contrast to the muffled warmth of the interior. The hum of the city rises around him, blending the sounds of daily life with whispers of a modernity in full bloom. An elegant horse-drawn carriage waits patiently, ready to transport him to the station. As he climbs aboard, he feels a subtle weight settle upon his shoulders. Far from the intimacy and comfort of a palace or family estate, this journey by carriage serves as a reminder that, despite the splendor surrounding him, he remains a man searching for his place in the grand theater of the Empire.
Upon arriving at the station, Mero encounters a place as grand and bustling as the train he glimpsed earlier. The station, a true crossroads of emotions and destinies, teems with activity: hurried travelers, eager merchants, disciplined servants, and nobles weave through a ceaseless ballet. Amid this commotion, the servant who accompanied him leads him to a reserved area, away from the crowd, where he is to board the modern train that will carry him toward unknown lands and the uncertain promises of the future.
Stepping into the train, Mero feels a pang of painful emotion. His heart tightens at the thought of not having had the chance to bid farewell to those dear to him. He thinks of Le?la, his devoted nursemaid who has watched over him with a mother’s tenderness since his earliest days, and of his master, a respected figure in his world whose absence today weighs heavily on his soul. As another servant escorts him to his cabin, he cannot shake the burden of this rushed departure. The cabin he enters is strikingly opulent, befitting the Empire’s refined tastes.
There, a large, plush velvet sofa sits beside a wide window framed with thick curtains, ensuring the privacy he so desperately craves. At the center of the room, a table of precious wood seems to invite contemplation, while shelves lined with ancient books and delicate ornaments adorn the walls. The bathroom, separated by a finely carved wooden door, reveals an equally luxurious interior: white marble sinks, modern fixtures, and thick rugs softening every step speak to an exceptional attention to detail.
Once Mero is comfortably settled, the servant bows respectfully and says in a steady voice, “If you need anything, my prince, I am at your service.” These words, steeped in the rigidity of imperial etiquette, echo within him like a pledge of availability, though at this moment he feels overwhelmed by a tangle of conflicting emotions.
Alone in this lavish cabin, Mero lets out a deep sigh. The pain of not having said goodbye to Le?la or his master mingles with a strange sense of emptiness, as if leaving this place means leaving behind a part of his identity. Despite all the comfort surrounding him, the refined, hushed atmosphere fails to dispel the shadow of absence and regret. The scent of polished wood, delicate fabrics, and the soft light filtering through the window remind him that he now inhabits a different world—one of appearances and change, where he must learn to reclaim his destiny.
For now, Mero resolves to savor this moment of respite. He lets his mind wander, seeking in the cabin’s silence the strength to prepare for the journey ahead. On a silver stand, he notices a newspaper delicately placed beside a menu card for the meal soon to be served. Intrigued, he brushes his fingertips over these objects, as if clinging to a comforting semblance of normalcy in this unfamiliar setting.
Shortly after, the train begins to move. A faint tremor ripples beneath his feet, and the pleasant sensation of speed starts to carry him away from the city. Through the wide window of his cabin, Mero watches with fascination as the landscape rushes by: vibrant green fields, quaint villages with thatched roofs, and hills silhouetted against the sky. The wind, bearing the scent of fresh earth and vegetation, gently brushes the glass, lending the scene an almost poetic quality. Each twist of the tracks reveals a new perspective, unveiling a world ever-changing, both strange and captivating.
Drawn by the soothing motion, Mero turns again to the stand where the newspaper rests. He hesitates briefly before picking it up, noting that the front-page article reports news from the kingdom—echoes of current events that remind him that, despite the beauty of the landscape, the outside world continues to turn with its joys and sorrows. Yet the words blur together under the weight of his thoughts. His mind, too preoccupied with the stakes of fate and the loved ones he left behind, struggles to focus on the mundane details of the news.
After a moment’s hesitation, Mero sets the newspaper down and allows his gaze to drift back to the window. The passing scenery offers a welcome reprieve, an invitation to set aside his heart’s concerns, if only for a moment. Perhaps, he muses, by pausing to observe the world, he might find answers to the questions plaguing him. But for now, he simply exists in this carriage, swept along by the train’s steady rhythm and the faint whisper of the wind.
The urge to break the monotony of silence eventually overcomes him. Mero rises and leaves his cabin, heading toward the dining cars—a place of conviviality and connection where travelers gather to eat and share stories over a meal. No sooner has he crossed the threshold than someone gestures for him to take his reserved seat. As he prepares to order, he suddenly feels a light touch on his shoulder, startling him. Whirling around, he sees Le?la, his nursemaid, her warm, knowing smile briefly lifting the weight of his solitude.
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Le?la, a maternal figure and steadfast ally, stands before him, her eyes sparkling with boundless affection. Her presence, which has always been a precious anchor in a world of convention and expectation, immediately eases the tension within him. In a gentle, teasing tone, she says, “You didn’t think I’d let you leave so easily without me, did you?” Without waiting for a reply, she sits across from him, her kind gaze seeming to restore his strength to face the uncertainty ahead.
Moments later, a waiter returns to take his order. As Mero lets himself be carried by the lightness of the moment, Le?la adds, observing the bustle around them with a mix of curiosity and skepticism, “There’s so much to learn here—trains, hotels, the food… And you, my prince, seem almost suspiciously calm for someone who’ll have to adapt to all this.” Her words, tinged with a hint of playful reproach, coax a smile from Mero. He realizes how he has always taken things in stride, despite the many challenges in his path.
The meal begins in a hushed atmosphere, punctuated by the successive arrival of dishes bursting with exquisite flavors. As the plates accumulate on the table, an unexpected remark from Le?la breaks the calm. In a low voice laced with a touch of bitterness, she confides that she wasn’t allowed to stay at his hotel—that it wasn’t a servant’s place. She explains that Master Antonin, expected in the capital, had to leave that same day, and though her carriage is comfortable, she cannot be assigned to him due to matters of honor and protocol specific to the train company.
This revelation strikes Mero deeply. He realizes that in this world, where the rules of etiquette and rank are ruthlessly rigid, Le?la’s place is perpetually questioned. To him, she has always been far more than a mere servant: a maternal figure who illuminated his darkest days and guided him toward maturity. In a voice soft with warmth, he replies, “I see… But know that you’re not just a servant to me, Le?la. You’ve always been like a mother, and nothing and no one can ever change that.”
Le?la’s eyes glisten with emotion as she smiles tenderly, though a quiet sadness lingers. “It’s a matter of honor, my prince,” she murmurs, “and it’s the price we pay to preserve everyone’s dignity here.” She glances around at the faces absorbed in their own concerns, adding, “Still, I’ll always watch over you, even if I can’t serve you as I once did.”
Mero’s words, steeped in sincerity, resonate in the carriage’s plush confines. With the gravity of an heir aware of his duties, he insists, “No matter what propriety dictates, you’ll always be the one who cared for me. Your importance far exceeds the limits they try to impose on you.” Moved, Le?la nods silently, grateful for this bond that transcends mere social conventions.
Determined not to let melancholy overwhelm him, Mero invites his nursemaid to stay closer to him in the carriage, despite the strict rules governing guests. Le?la accepts with a grateful smile, though her gaze betrays a certain restraint. “You’re far too kind, my prince,” she says softly, settling into a chair in the private lounge. “But I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your generosity.” Mero reassures her at once, “Le?la, you’re not taking advantage of anything. You’ve always been there for me, and I want you near, even when I attend the Imperial Academy.”
The conversation shifts to lighter tones, and Le?la, with a touch of amusement, teases, “You’re growing up so fast… Once, I was the one setting rules for you, and now here you are, protecting me from the system.” Mero lets out a soft laugh, aware of the irony, and retorts, “Maybe it’s you who taught me to think for myself.” Feigning resignation, Le?la smiles and adds, “Then I’ll visit you from time to time—but not too often, so your future companions don’t think you’re still a pampered child.”
To Mero, the very idea of Le?la being permanently distanced is unthinkable. In a firm tone, he insists, “Come as often as you like. Even at the Imperial Academy, I want you by my side.” Touched by this promise, Le?la’s gaze softens before she murmurs, “We’ll see what the future holds…”
As hours pass, the train continues its journey through ever-changing landscapes. Seeking to occupy his mind, Mero delves into daily news and leafs through books he purchased on his travels. Yet one item repeatedly draws his attention: a carefully folded letter adorned with a lipstick kiss, sent by Mandarine. To him, Mandarine represents a forbidden, precious love—a bond of affection and rebellion that defies the Empire’s codes. Each word in her letter, each symbolic gesture of the kiss-sealed envelope, stirs vivid memories and promises of a shared future, despite life’s obstacles.
As he rereads the letter for the umpteenth time, Mero catches, from the corner of his eye, a sly smile on Le?la’s face. That subtle yet meaningful expression doesn’t escape him. Unable to contain his curiosity, he asks with feigned indifference, “Why the smile, nursemaid?” Caught off guard, Le?la briefly looks away before letting out a small laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing—just the joy of seeing my prince grow up,” she replies mischievously, harking back to a time when their roles were reversed. Amused, Mero raises an eyebrow and prods, “Growing up? Is that all you’ll say?”
Le?la sighs lightly, then fixes him with a playful stare. “Let’s just say that letter deserves far more attention than any book you’ve read lately.” Heat rises to Mero’s cheeks, and he admits, with a sigh, that to him, this missive holds immense significance. “She… she’s important,” he murmurs, carefully tucking the letter away. Rising to place an affectionate hand on his shoulder, Le?la assures him gently, “No, my prince, I’m not overstepping. But it seems you haven’t yet grasped all that this letter means to you.”
A knowing smile spreads across Mero’s face, and he catches himself smiling inwardly, aware that, despite all conventions and turmoil, he cherishes this moment. With a hint of amusement, he recalls how he sometimes embellishes his bond with Mandarine, choosing to celebrate it rather than deny it. This inner reconciliation, this gentle contradiction, urges him to focus on the future—on the responsibilities awaiting him, particularly at the Imperial Academy, where his destiny as the Salt King’s son intertwines with the Empire’s ambitions.
Time flows on, and the train presses tirelessly through shifting terrains. In a silence broken only by the rustle of newspaper pages and the steady clack of the rails, Mero lets himself be lulled by the journey’s rhythm. Everything suggests that, despite the apparent isolation of this luxurious carriage, he is never truly alone. Between the words of his letter, memories of Mandarine, and Le?la’s reassuring presence, each moment resonates like a prelude to an inevitable transformation—that of a young man who, day by day, forges his own identity.
As the meal ends and the murmur of conversation fades into a hushed ambiance, Mero turns from his reading to gaze once more through the window at the vast landscape unfolding before him. The outside world, in constant motion, seems to challenge every certainty and beckons his eyes to lose themselves in its expanse. Each passing second deepens his sense of belonging to a universe in flux, where the old and the modern coexist in a sometimes discordant harmony.
Gradually, a soft melancholy settles within him, and he finds himself pondering the meaning of this journey, the direction his life is taking. Memories of Mandarine—his rebellious, tender-hearted fiancée—blend with those of his nursemaid, the maternal figure who has always shielded him, and of his past, laden with imperial expectations. Together, they form a kaleidoscope of emotions he cannot escape, a fragile balance between duty and desire, honor and freedom.
As the train cuts through the landscapes, Mero realizes that every moment lived, every glance out the window, every word whispered by the wind, is an invitation to reinvent himself. Though the future remains uncertain and fraught with challenges, he now knows the path he treads is his own—a path where love, loyalty, and ambition intertwine to shape the unique tale of an heir seeking his place.
Slowly, the carriage’s dim lights become accomplices to his reflections, and he surrenders to this deceptive calm, savoring these suspended moments where time seems to stretch. The train, like a grand vessel of modern times, cleaves the darkness and presses onward relentlessly, carrying Mero toward unknown lands where the future—rich with promise and mystery—takes shape on the horizon.
Far ahead, somewhere, destiny awaits.
