Soft footsteps… the creak of a heavy door…
Sera opened her eyes slowly to a warm, dim light pouring through the tall windows.
She was… in a strange room.
Elegant. Wide. But not a prison.
She lay on a silky bed, wrapped in soft sheets. The furniture was carved from dark wood, the walls decorated with faint paintings of butterflies, moons, and glass vases.
By the door, a nervous maid bowed slightly.
"You're awake… His Grace is expecting you."
Sera followed the maid quietly through a long hallway. Her eyes scanned the space warily.
This wasn't the kind of palace she'd imagined—
It was older. Deeper. As if it belonged to a time long before them.
Velvet carpets, massive oil paintings of unknown kings and soldiers, a scent of aged books and dark perfume… and an air both suffocating and regal.
At a pair of tall doors adorned with white feathers, the maid pushed them open…
And he was there.
Ilarious.
Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, silver fan covering half his face. His red eyes glowed faintly in the golden light.
"Finally awake, little Sery," he said with a soft, unnerving smile.
Sera raised an eyebrow.
"It's Sera."
"Sery rolls off the tongue better. Don't you think?"
He walked past her, slowly.
"What is this place?" she asked, wary.
"My estate, of course."
"…Why am I not in a cell?"
He turned to her with a faint smile.
"Does little Sery want me to throw her in a dungeon~?"
She flinched, then mumbled:
"No… but I don't understand."
He stepped aside, gesturing toward the window.
"What you don't understand yet, little night butterfly…"
"…is that you're not here as a prisoner."
He leaned closer.
"But that doesn't mean you're free."
Dinner——
The dining table stretched for meters.
Golden plates, crystal cups, roasted meats, sliced fruits, warm bread, butter infused with herbs, and soup that steamed with a rich, unfamiliar aroma.
Sera eyed the food. Then eyed him.
"Is it… poisoned?"
He chuckled. That smooth, quiet laugh that made her question everything.
"If I wanted you dead, I'd choose a far more elegant method than poison."
She took a cautious bite, but never took her eyes off him.
"This place… is it a palace? A museum? A trap?"
"Maybe all of the above. Maybe none. What matters is…"
"You're inside."
The Next Morning – The Library
"This… is your library?"
Sera blinked at the towering bookshelves.
"Pick whatever you like. But these…"
He handed her a specific stack.
"I want you to read them. They'll be useful to you."
She stared at him, like trying to decode a hidden message.
"After everything you did to us… you want me to read?"
He smiled as he turned to leave.
"Not everything I do is cruel, Sery. Sometimes… I teach."
Later…
She flipped through one of the books, frowning.
Then closed it with a sigh.
"This is ridiculous. What am I even doing here?"
Restless, she left the room.
Wandered the halls.
Breathed in the scent of age and ink and memory.
Until—
The door suddenly opened.
A tall knight with long golden hair and soft amber eyes entered.
Zan.
Behind him, a young woman with long black hair and piercing blue eyes.
Natalie.
The girl halted when she saw Sera…
and frowned.
"Who are you? A new maid?"
Sera blinked, then responded with calm firmness:
"No. I don't work here. I'm a guest of the prince."
Natalie's eyes narrowed. She stepped closer, scanning Sera from head to toe.
"A guest? Alone?"
She sniffed the air, then asked—sharp and direct:
"Are you… Sir Ilarious's lover?"
Sera nearly choked on her breath.
"Pfft! I'd rather die!."
Then He Appeared
Soft steps… silver fan…
Ilarious descended the stairs.
"Natalie. Zan. Welcome."
He looked at Natalie, then introduced her with quiet pride:
"This is Natalie… the emperor's daughter."
Sera froze.
"Daughter of the emperor?!"
Natalie's posture shifted—confident, smug, regal.
"Strange, isn't it? That the prince would host someone like you."
Sera raised an eyebrow.
"Stranger still… that you think I care."
Zan finally spoke, gently:
"Lady Natalie… I believe the prince knows what he's doing."
Ilarious didn't interfere.
He watched from the stairs, clearly entertained by every word, every stare, every flicker of jealousy.
He smiled and said softly:
"Ah… I didn't realize how much I needed some morning entertainment."