His hand, intertwining with hers, was soft, delicate, and beautiful, like a pianist’s touch.
Whenever Astrid saw him, she couldn’t help but remember the older boy from that day. Though she had been too young to recall his face or fully grasp the reality of the situation, she could never forget the feeling of the encounter
On that day, tears welled up in four-year-old Astrid’s eyes as she found herself lost in the forest, with no memory of how or why she had gone missing.
She clung to a simple rule she had heard before. If lost in the woods, the best course of action was to stay in one place. Wandering further would only make things worse.
’….’
It was then when she saw him. A boy fumbling with a tree. Astrid couldn’t quite remember what he was doing, but it seemed as though he was wrapping a rope around it.
Soft sobs escaped her lips as she cried, and that was when the boy noticed her.
——Huh?
He turned, pausing just as he was about to tie the rope to the tree. Little Astrid flinched, startled by his presence. His eyes were sunken, hollow, and devoid of life.
He looked like a ghost.
——What are you…
The boy’s voice trailed off. Ever articulate for her age, Astrid had always been a bright child. She could speak well—fluently, even—but in that moment, only one word escaped her lips.
’Mommy!’
Fear gripped her as she took in the sight of him. His unkempt, jet-black wavy hair, and those lifeless eyes.
’….!’
The boy stepped toward her, and Astrid’s terror deepened. She was crouched on the ground, and her body refused to move. Her legs were frozen as she pressed herself against a tree.
——Calm down.
She flinched but looked up to meet his gaze. His face was blank and expressionless, as if he wasn’t really there.
And yet, for some reason, Astrid felt herself relax a little.
——What’s your name? Where are your parents?
She hesitated, her gaze shifting between the boy and the rope hanging from the tree. What kind of game was he playing?
’Astrid….’
The name slipped from her lips.
——….!
The boy’s brow lifted slightly. It was the first hint of a reaction she had seen from him.
——Astrid… Are you Aunt Julia’s daughter? Princess Astrid?
’Julia… yes. Do you know Mommy?’
——Yes. She’s…. I owe her a lot.
Astrid couldn’t remember everything, but she did remember two things clearly—the boy leading her back to her mother and his name.
——Call me Zen.
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Zen. Just like the First Archmage. That was the name he had given her. And in fact, it was the name her mother called him too.
At the time, her mother was an active researcher. The boy often visited their workshop, and on the rare occasions Astrid went as well, she would sometimes cross paths with him if she was lucky.
But then again, that was a story from a distant past. That boy was long gone. And most importantly, he wasn’t the professor.
However.
“Professor?”
Around them, the others were already dancing gracefully. Yet, the professor remained frozen in place, his wide eyes locked onto Astrid.
“….”
The intensity of his stare made her suddenly feel self-conscious, causing her to feel a bashful heat rising within her.
It was then.
Tak.
The professor finally moved. Without a word, he took her hand and guided her onto the dance floor.
His grip was firm yet careful, and each of his steps were fluid as he led her into the waltz.
Though surprised, Astrid instinctively adjusted to his lead.
——♬♫♪♩
The melodious tune of the violin and piano swelled around them once more, yet her focus remained solely on the warmth of his palm against hers and the steady rhythm of his movements.
“You…” Professor Vanitas’s voice trailed off.
Astrid blinked. “Yes?”
He hesitated as his grip subtly tightened around her hand. “Have we met before?”
“Y-Yes? What?”
Vanitas cleared his throat abruptly, as if dismissing his own thoughts. “Never mind.”
“Ah—”
Before Astrid could say more, Vanitas spun her gracefully. As she twirled, he guided her downward in a gentle dip before pulling her back up.
“You’re a very skilled dancer… professor,” she remarked, slightly breathless.
“Call me Vanitas.”
“Yes?”
“Outside the university grounds, I’m not your professor,” he said. “But a loyal subject of the crown.”
His grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly as he met her gaze.
“I am your subject, Princess.”
“Ah….”
The warmth rising in Astrid’s face intensified. She didn’t understand why, but whenever she was with the professor, she felt as though she could lower her guard.
Despite everything surrounding him, there was something about him that made her feel at ease, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“V-Vanitas….” she murmured, barely above a whisper.
“What was that?”
“Vanitas.”
A faint smile appeared on her lips as he continued to guide her effortlessly through the waltz.
His next words, however…
“Princess,” Vanitas said, his tone shifting. “I heard your sister was here. Do you have any idea where she is?”
“….”
The warmth in Astrid’s chest vanished instantly.
* * *
“Why did you come to see me now? After two years? My father… has been in a coma all this time.”
“It couldn’t be helped. I had no way of finding him. Even when I showed an illustration of his face, no one recognized him. The hospital refused to accommodate me when I inquired if he was admitted here.”
“Then… tell me. What are you here for?”
Silence settled between them. Karina curled up slightly on the cold metallic seat, waiting.
Finally, Alex spoke. “I don’t know the full details. I only figured this out recently. But your father’s last case before he was hospitalized… something about it seems suspicious.”
Karina’s brows furrowed. “Suspicious?”
“Yeah.” Alex hesitated before continuing. “By any chance, do you know a person named… Vanitas Astrea?”
“….”
A tense pause stretched between them before Alex spoke again. “So you do.”
Karina’s hands curled into fists.
“That name has been coming up a lot lately,” Alex went on. “That’s why I remembered it. But your father’s last case… he was tracking Vanitas Astrea. I don’t know why. What I do remember is that his article was discarded by the chief editor at the time. I was still a rookie then.”
Karina’s heart pounded in her chest. Vanitas Astrea… her father had been investigating him?
That Vanitas Astrea?
Professor Vanitas?
A sudden chill ran through her spine. The pieces didn’t fit, or perhaps, they fit too well.
“…Go away,” she muttered.
Alex blinked. “What?”
“I said, go away.” Her tone came out fiercer this time, laced with something even she couldn’t quite name. Fear, frustration, disbelief.
Maybe all of it at once.
Alex sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Miss Maeril, I get that this is a lot to take in, but—”
“You don’t get anything,” she snapped, standing abruptly. “You show up after two years, throw some half-baked theory at me, and expect me to just—just what? Act like it makes sense?”
Alex frowned. “I’m not expecting anything. I just thought you deserved to know.”
Karina inhaled, forcing herself to stay calm. But her mind was spinning.
Vanitas. Professor Vanitas.
The name echoed relentlessly in her head, crashing into everything she thought she knew.
“Go away,” she muttered.
“….”
Alex didn’t move.
Her chest tightened. “Go away. Go away. Go away!”
——Is everything alright?
“….”
Karina snapped out of her daze, her teeth clenched as her fists trembled at her sides.
A hospital guard had approached, alternating his gaze between her and Alex. It was only then that she noticed the eyes around them.
Karina swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe.
“Yes. This person has been bothering me. Please…”
The guard straightened and stepped closer. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Alright.”
Alex stood without protest, not even bothering to defend himself.
“I just thought you should know,” he said simply before turning and walking away.
Karina remained seated, silently curled up on the cold metallic chair as she hugged her knees close.
“….”
….She felt like she was about to lose her mind.
* * *
Irene, ever so flamboyant, moved across the dance floor gracefully. She was like a flower in full bloom as each step seemed to be an extension of her natural allure.
No man could resist the temptation of becoming her next partner. Their eager gazes settled on her, hoping for their turn when the next exchange came.
And then the next. And the next. And the next….
The hell… When was this dance going to stop?
Flick—!
The lights dimmed for a brief moment before brightening again.
The transition was seamless. Partners shifted fluidly as the dance continued. Irene, too, let go of her current partner and moved into another’s embrace.
As she placed her hand in his, her new partner spoke.
“May I have this dance, my lady?”
“Of course,” Irene replied, a soft smile gracing her lips.
The man before her, like the others, carried an air of elegance. Though even with the mask, Irene could tell he was undeniably handsome.
His jet-black hair was neatly slicked back, yet still held its natural waves, clearly styled to perfection.
His sharp amethyst eyes gleamed confidently, and the way he moved was flawless, exuding the air of a man well-versed in the art of dance.
He led her with poise, guiding her effortlessly across the floor.
Then, his voice lowered. “I heard you were looking for me, Princess.”
“….”
Wait.
Irene’s steps nearly faltered. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening as realization settled in.
“Vanitas Astrea?” she asked, brows raising.
Vanitas’s lips curled into a smirk. “I’ve kept my promise.”
“Indeed, you have.”
Effortlessly, Vanitas spun her, the fabric of her gown fanning out as she twirled before he pulled her back into his arms.
“You’ve gone through quite the trouble to find me,” he mused. “Even monitored me, to an extent.”
Irene’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So you knew?”
He nodded, leading her through the next movement of the dance.
“Of course,” he said. “Now, I have to ask. What does Aetherion’s First Princess want with me, a mere university professor?”
“That conversation is not meant for the dance floor,” she replied. “I may be asking for too much, but first, I’d like to formally apologize for how my subordinate treated you.”
“Treated me? Ah, you mean that threatening invitation?” He spun her effortlessly before pulling her close again. “It was hardly anything, Princess.”
“I disagree,” Irene said. “That was not how I intended things to be handled.”
“Then I take it you weren’t the one who sent them after me?”
She sighed. “I sent them to find you, yes. But how they chose to do it… that was of their own accord.”
“Then I take it,” he murmured, lowering Irene into a graceful dip before smoothly pulling her back up, their faces now mere inches apart. “That we should take this conversation elsewhere after the party?”
Irene held his gaze for a moment longer.
This man…
His charisma was undeniable. It was as if he was accustomed to handling women, regardless of their status.
“That would be ideal,” she replied.
——♬♫♪♩
Perhaps swayed by the mood, Irene had nearly forgotten. This was her chance to assess his value.
As their waltz continued, she closed her eyes for a brief moment, activating her Stigmata.
When she opened her eyes, however—
[???]
“….”
A sudden, overwhelming wave of nausea crashed into her. Her stomach churned violently, and the entire world seemed to spin in an instant.
Her grip on Vanitas tightened involuntarily.
“You…” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Vanitas tilted his head slightly. “Hm?”
“You’re…”
“I’m…?”
It was him.
The man from that day.
She couldn’t take it. The sensation, the overwhelming feeling was too much.
Without another thought, she shoved Vanitas aside, breaking free from his grasp as she rushed toward the balcony.
——Princess Irene?!
Ignoring the voices calling after her, she barely made it past the threshold before she lurched forward.
“Huek!”
The contents of her stomach spilled over the marble railing as she clung onto the edge, gasping for air. The cool night breeze brushed against her flushed skin, but it did little to ease the nausea twisting inside her.
——Princess?
Irene wiped her lips hastily, steadying herself before turning slightly, meeting his gaze.
Vanitas stood there, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.
“You…” she exhaled. “Who are you?”
No, that wasn’t the right question.
“What are you?!”
* * *
Perhaps there was some commotion, but Selena couldn’t ignore the curiosity bubbling within her.
The First Princess of Aetherion was a powerful connection, yet she had just abruptly left the dance floor.
And then there was him. the man who, despite the scene, walked toward the balcony calmly, as if nothing had happened.
“….!”
His head turned slightly, his gaze meeting hers for the briefest of seconds. But that moment was enough for Selena to feel a chill run through her spine.
Those amethyst eyes…
She had seen them before.
She was certain of it.
But where?
“What’s the matter, Saintess?” Aston, standing beside her, asked.
Selena exhaled, her lips curving slightly. “I believe I’ve decided who I shall dance with tonight.”
“Who? Is it me—”
Aston’s words were cut off as Selena rose to her feet, descending the grand staircase elegantly.
Tak. Tak. Tak.
The rhythmic click of her heels echoed against the marble steps as she moved.
A nobleman attempted to step into her path. “Ah, Lady Saintess, I’m Simon Ainsley, of the—”
But Selena barely registered his words. Her gaze remained locked on the man at the balcony and, without a second glance, she brushed past the nobleman as if he were nothing more than an afterthought.
She stepped onto the center of the dance floor, and in an instant, the music stopped.
The dancers who were caught in the melody of the waltz, froze mid-step as their attention now fixed entirely on her.
Selena exhaled softly, then lifted a hand. Her delicate finger extended toward the open balcony.
“That man….”
Toward him.
“I shall dance with him tonight.”