The sun had been up for about two hours. Even though it was summer, a cool breeze drifted through the window, making the curtains sway. For a day that was supposed to be scorching—true summer showing its face—the weather was way more pleasant than expected.
I was deep asleep in my big bed, tucked under a soft blue velvet blanket, far from all the chaos unfolding in the country.
Good sleep was a blessing. Despite the system I was part of and the mission hanging over me—time slipping away with no progress—I still woke up refreshed every morning after a solid rest. Sleep was the only time I could actually find some peace of mind. But that day, Lorine ruined it for me.
"Lady... please... come back down... you can't—"
Voices echoed from outside. My maid was arguing with someone she kept calling "Lady." From the sound of it, Lorine was right outside my door.
My eyes were still heavy, refusing to open. I didn't want to open them. It was too damn early, and all I wanted was to keep sleeping. But when my door suddenly flew open with a violent bang, any trace of sleepiness vanished in an instant.
Lorine came tumbling into my room, breathless and frantic. She rushed toward my bed while behind her, my maid followed in quiet but urgent steps, her voice a hushed warning. I was still half-convinced I was dreaming—until I realized I'd propped myself up on my elbows and was staring right at Lorine.
"What's wrong?"
Before I could blink, she scrambled onto my bed, clutching fistfuls of my blanket in her tiny hands. "F-Father w-wants to t-take us h-home! C-Cam-Camellia, p-please stop him! I d-don't wanna go back!"
Her eyes were wide with distress, pleading with me like I held some power to fix this. Never mind that I was barely any older than her—just a two-year-old in grown-up clothes. But to her, I was the only one who might help.
Then it hit me. Last night, we'd played so late that I'd completely forgotten: today was the day Lorine had to return home after staying with us for a week.
[EPISODE 12: YOU'RE MINE!]
I didn't know what to say or even what to do. But she kept begging desperately. My maid stepped forward to politely remove her from my bed, but I stopped her. "No... let her stay here."
"But Mr. Nizbel is waiting downstairs for her. He's currently speaking with Mr. Norb. She really must—"
"I said what I said! Lo-Lorine is st-staying right here."
It was the first time I'd ever given orders to the servants like that. I was just a two-year-old. I knew there was no guarantee they'd listen to me over my father or mother. So I moved fast. I climbed down from the bed, took Lorine's hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze to calm her nerves.
"Stay here. I'm going downstairs... I'll be right back."
I turned to the maid, who was staring at me with wide, uncertain eyes. I knew exactly why she was afraid—her mind must've been in chaos right now, torn over who to obey. This is why multiple rulers can't govern the same land.
Keeping my voice calm, I said, "I'm going to see Father. Please wait until then."
She gave a stiff nod. One last glance at Lorine—she was still standing by my bed, fingers twisted together so tightly her knuckles had gone white. The nervous fidgeting said everything. Too much for a two-year-old to handle. Then again, maybe it made sense. Kids her age dig their heels in when they don't get their way. But even she seemed to know that stubbornness wasn't how a noble's daughter won battles.
My father's study was downstairs, not far from the library. When I reached it, the door was shut tight. The muffled voices of Father and Lorine's dad drifted through the wood - I could barely make out their words. Though the guard stood like an immovable tower beside the door, I felt too self-conscious to eavesdrop openly. Strangely enough, he pretended not to notice me hovering there. Gathering my courage, I knocked.
When Father's voice called permission from within, the guard opened the door for me.
Father sat bathed in sunlight, his posture radiating authority. Mr. Nizbel, Lorine's father, was a strikingly handsome man with golden hair that caught the light. His multi-layered golden eyes studied me intensely - it felt like being analyzed under a microscope!
His hair shimmered like actual gold in the sunlight. I couldn't remember ever meeting Lorine's father before, but in that first moment I instantly understood how much Lorine resembled him.
Seeing Mr. Nizbel's face made me completely forget what I'd come to say. Father broke the silence: "Camellia! It's quite early. What are you doing here? And..." his eyes narrowed, "...why is your hair such a mess?"
"Huh...?" I reached up to touch my hair. My newly grown strands were sticking up in complete disarray.
Had Mr. Nizbel been staring at my ridiculous bedhead this whole time?! Ugh, shit! So much for making a good impression!
"S-Sorry, Father. I w-wanted to... t-tell you something." Dammit. Now of all times, my tongue decided to trip over itself!
But Father cut in firmly, "Not now, Camellia."
Just then, Lorine's father spoke up, "If needed, I can step out. Though I've already said all I came to say, Mr. Norb."
All he came to say?
So... they'd already made up their minds? This... this can't be happening!
"No need, Mr. Nizbel. And we haven't reached an agreement yet," Father countered firmly. "I promised her I'd fix this situation—"
Lorine's father cut in without hesitation, his piercing golden eyes locking onto Father's proud face with unsettling certainty. "—And you have fixed it. You've already resolved the matter. Lorine won't be attending the Elite Academy, and we'll be leaving this city. This way, we all remain secure."
"Leaving... the city?!" I couldn't hold back anymore. Just a week ago, my mission objective had been right before my eyes. Now they wanted to take her miles away from me? I'd been worried sick about her not being able to visit our mansion anymore - but a whole different city? Where exactly? Why?
Father's voice cut through my thoughts like a blade. "Camellia. Didn't I say this wasn't the time? Why are you still here? Go back to your room."
"No, Father! I've listened to you and Mother all this time! I've tried so hard to be your perfect daughter, to be like... like some angel for you—" My voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up frustration.
Both Father and Mr. Nizbel were staring at me now with wide, astonished eyes—like they'd just witnessed a miracle. I didn't care if I was acting like a two-year-old. I didn't trust that damn system. I wasn't even sure if it was real or just a dream. It appeared whenever it wanted, materializing before me just because I thought about it. Damn it, I just want it gone forever. I don't trust it, but I don't want to see that hellish timer counting down every second until my mission deadline either.
I'm not just some ordinary girl. If I have to, I'll do something so shocking every single day until everyone gets used to me! But deep down... something tells me I'd better play along with this cursed system, just in case.
And then, like the two-year-old I was supposed to be, the tears came. I couldn't control my breathing. Maybe this was only the second time I'd cried since opening my eyes to this damned world.
"F-Father... On my birthday, you s-said... you've n-never... denied me anything. N-Now... I'm asking... for j-just one thing... Just... just let... L-Lorine stay with me. She's my... my only f-friend. P-Please..."
Now I had completely lost control of my body. A suffocating lump lodged itself in my tiny throat, refusing to dissolve. Tears streamed down my cheeks and splattered onto the floor, as if making up for two years of unshed tears all at once.
My words had run out, but the silence spoke volumes. The study, usually a domain of absolute authority, now stood frozen - permitting only this disheveled little girl to sob her heart out. Maybe somewhere deep down, they all knew this was just another act.
I thought to myself, Maybe words aren't enough. Maybe I can't convince them or even soften their hearts. So I walked over to Lorine's father, bent at the waist in a deep bow until my tear-filled eyes could only see the intricate patterns of the floor tiles. With that same choking sob and endless tears, I pleaded, "Mr. Nizbel... please... let your daughter and me... stay friends."
Suddenly, my father stood up and slammed his hands on the desk—not violently, but the sharp sound made me jerk my head up.
"What do you think you're doing, Camellia?!"
In that moment, one thing took priority for him: the Leonhardt family pride, which demanded that I never bow or lower my head to those beneath our station. Not even if it's the family's future son-in-law.
"Return to your room. Now. Or I'll have to take... other measures."
It was beyond my control. But strangely, I wasn't afraid at all.
Finally, Mr. Nizbel reacted. "Lord Leonhardt, please, calm down. This is my fault. I pushed things too far."
"It's not his fault. He's not to blame at all. But before the head of House Leonhardt, even a cat would be found guilty."
Then, unexpectedly, he knelt before me and pulled a silk handkerchief from his coat pocket. "It's clean. Dry your tears with this." His voice softened. "I'm sorry I didn't consider how this would affect you and my daughter. But let me ask you something..." He studied me carefully. "The words you just spoke don't sound like they came from a two-year-old. I don't know... Maybe it's because you're Lord Leonhardt's daughter that you're so articulate and confident—or maybe there's another reason."
I stared at him in shock. Had he figured me out?! As I wiped my tears with the purple handkerchief he'd given me, I resolved to stay silent—if he'd noticed anything unusual, I'd just deny it.
"I wanted to ask... Do you know anything about the war?"
"The war?" I did know. Was there really a conflict brewing in the kingdom?
Father cut in sharply, "These discussions have no place in front of children."
Mr. Nizbel swallowed his words and stood up. "You're right. I just wanted her to understand I have valid reasons for relocating. But perhaps... it's better to wait a while longer. My intention was to distance ourselves from cities that might become centers of unrest. Yet... this is the capital. It may actually be safer here."
"Does that mean... you're staying?!" A spark of hope flickered in me. My breathing steadied, the tension in my chest easing. Now that I thought about it—just how awful had I looked crying like that?
Lorine's father smiled slightly. "Even if I wanted to leave, it would take at least a month. Moving is no simple task. But more importantly..." His gaze softened. "Since Lorine has found such a good friend in you... perhaps I can postpone it for now."
He turned to my father and said, "But I stand firm on my other conditions. Lord Leonhardt, I hope you'll grant me this. I don't want Lorine attending the Elite Academy. And as you yourself suggested... Lorine may visit your estate once a week with her mother. I trust lady Camellia agrees with this arrangement."
Those brilliant golden eyes flicked to me. I knew I should be grateful, but once a week still felt like starvation rations. There was nothing more I could do—pushing further would only cause chaos.
Finally, that damned negotiation concluded. Just as Father had decreed: a mutual agreement. Camellia wouldn't attend the Elite Academy, and she'd visit me on weekends. This was the compromise my tears and begging had won.
I stepped into my room, my eyelids heavier than ever. But staying awake wasn't an option—not after that exhausting performance. Sleep wouldn't come easy tonight.
My maid was the only one there, perched anxiously at the edge of my bed, her eyes still wide with worry. No sign of Lorine. If she'd left the room, the maid would've chased after her—she wouldn't just be sitting here waiting. As I moved closer, the maid pointed a hesitant finger at a suspicious lump under my blanket.
"Miss Camellia… forgive me, but no matter how much I told lady Lorine this was improper, she refused to listen. She's hiding under your blanket and says she won't leave."
My heart suddenly began pounding—hard. It only lasted a few seconds, maybe two or three at most. But in that brief moment, I could feel the blood rushing through my veins and the tingling sensation spreading across my skin. I turned to the maid and said, "I'll handle her. Y-You can go."
"Of course, Miss. I'll be right outside if you need anything." Once I was sure she had left, I sat down beside the suspicious lump under my blanket and spoke softly, "I asked your father to let us see each other at least on weekends. I'm sorry it's not more..."
"R-Really?" Her voice from under the blanket was even quieter than mine. There was something about that innocence of hers that I adored. I had to see her face right now.
"Yeah. It's the only—"
Before I could finish, she burst out from under the blanket and threw her arms around my neck. Her skin pressed against mine, so close I could feel her uneven breaths and the dampness of her tears near my ear. "Th-Thank you! I... I really had so much fun this week... Thank you."
In that moment, I could feel the warmth of her body—trapped under the blanket in this summer heat—radiating against me. It was strangely calming. Just having Lorine here made me feel... good. So good it almost made me hate myself for what I needed to do with her.
I hugged her back, my hands resting lightly on her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, I whispered in the gentlest voice I could muster: "Don't cry. I'm thankful for you too. I don't ever want us to be apart..."
Not until my mission is complete.
"... You're mine, Lorine. My best friend."