It had been a few days since Cassiel collapsed.
"Young Master, wait...!"
His steps echoed through the corridor, and the staff was already beginning to look worried.
"You said I could do whatever I wanted if I got out of my room!" He shot back, not even sparing Viola a glance as she hurried behind him, nearly tripping over her own feet.
His slippers padded against the polished floors, the breeze coming from the open windows were, as always, having a negative effect on him. Still, he didn't stop or slow down.
'My situation's worse than all of yours combined anyway.'
Viola bit her lower lip. "But, it would be reckless to walk aroud so much, especially right after getting better!" She insisted, breathless as she tried to keep pace.
He waved a dismissive hand, barely turning his head. "Yeah, yeah. His Grace told me I need to fix this complexion of mine, didn't he?" His voice was unusually lighter than usual, almost teasing. "So here I am," he continued, walking even faster "walking more to feel better."
The child's mood had been lifting, little by little, ever since he began to see this strange world as something more than a prison. It still didn't feel like home, but at least it wasn't swallowing him whole anymore.
The nightmare, though...it still had a depressing effect on him but, strangely enough, it felt like someone simply threw an ice bucket at him.
It was a wake up call, so that cold had done him good.
He looked around more constantly, and, somehow, the world seemed more alive than before. The grey corners had softened; the light had grown warmer.
'I need to get stronger!' He was determined, fists clenched. But his body didn't share the same enthusiasm. 'Heck, I'm already dying,' He stopped for a moment, wobbling on his feet.
"Young Master, please! Just a short rest!"
Cassiel was panting now, the cold air basically stinging his lungs. He bit down on his lip in frustration. 'Shouldn't I be, like, half fairy or something?'
Yet his body still rejected anything that wasn't plain soup, and even walking for twenty minutes made his knees tremble.
"Yeah...that'd be ideal." He admitted, bending forward to catch his breath.
And then, he was off the ground.
"What the—?" He looked back in panic. Viola had picked him up like he weighed nothing.
"W-what are you doing?" he stammered, cheeks burning. "I can stand, no need to hold me!"
He squeezed his eyes shut. 'Oh gosh, this is so humiliating. I'm not a child!'
Viola tilted her head, puzzled by his outburst. "Young Master—"
"Quickly!" Suddenly, a maid almost shouted, rushing down the corridor with two others close behind.
Cassiel's eyes followed their every movement. It was happening again, just like the other daym
He glanced up at Viola, her face was getting pale, drawn tight.
'Yeah…I think I know what this is.'
He didn't know know, he didn't know anything that happened before the start of the novel, but the timeline lined up well enough.
"Viola, where are they going?"
She blinked, clearly surprised he'd asked. Her brows knit, as if she were choosing her words carefully.
"You see, Young Master..."
He let out a sigh. 'Right. Of course they won't tell me. I'm still the suspicious kid they picked off the street, possibly a spy. What was I expecting? This is the house that exiled a twelve-year-old.'
Viola looked at his calm expression and swallowed.
She had been born in this castle. Raised in its shadows. The Archduchy was her whole world, a bit scary, yes, but also deeply beloved.
They'd saved her family once. She wasn't the only one. There were hundreds like her. How could she ever betray them?
So when she first heard about a nameless boy from the slums being brought in, wariness had been her first feeling.
Who wouldn't be cautious?
It wasn't hate. Just a sense of duty to monitor him.
And pity.
Pity for a child she couldn't imagine calling her Master.
And yet…
"Her Grace…she's gravely ill."
Viola couldn't help but look back.
She had started watching him from the doorways, quiet as a mouse. The boy never complained about his physical health. Never demanded anything. Just sat there in silence, gazing out the window like he was waiting for something that would never come.
There was sadness in his eyes that couldn't be described or understood.
But she didn't want to avoid it anymore. She wanted to know him better.
"If Young Master wishes...we could try visiting her."
She turned her head away after saying it, unable to bear his reaction.
"Huh?" Cassiel blinked. "Really? I can do that?"
Her eyes widened as she looked back at him and, with an involuntary chuckle, she replied, "There's nothing the Young Master can't do."
Cassiel stared at her for a few seconds, starting to smile, too. "Alright, then let's go."
Now he had the confirmation that his thoughts were right.
It was about the Archduchess, Honora Tirania.
She was one of the people who made Canaria even more beloved. The one whose life she saved.
Glarot.
A degenerative illness and incurable by normal means.
'If I remember right...she caught it on some kind of expedition to Khazdrimdur. The land ruled by dwarves.'
Cassiel didn't know much, the novel barely touched on that part of the world.
What he did know was that Khazdrimdur was a land of deep mines and strange stones. And one of those stones, the one responsible for everything, had a name that stuck in his memory.
Duringarde.
A gemstone that might as well be considered poisonous. It's harmless to dwarves, considering their bodies didn't rely on mana the same way humans did. But for Honora, it struck fast. Right at her core.
The symptoms were merciless.
Her mana flow slowed until it was barely a trickle. Then her body began to stiffen, it was basically motionless.
Even her skin began to change, her veins turned glassy and her organs were almost visible beneath a skin that no longer felt human. Crystallization, the novel had called it.
The only thing that kept her barely alive was fairy mana.
The Archduke gave her as much he could, but fairy healing was never more than mild. And from a half-fairy, it was barely enough to delay the inevitable.
So she died.
'At least…she did in Canaria's first life.'
In the second, Canaria had been there.
Sirens could do more than make people weep or smile or fall in love with the sound of their voice. More than making someone go mad and twist loyalties.
Actually, that wasn't even their most powerful ability.
Their true power was healing.
'Their mana is special on its own, but when they sing, it literally flows into you, that's how they're able to affect almost every being. It changes your body or mind, or both. Either ruins you or saves you.'
In Honora's case, it saved her.
Cassiel shifted in Viola's arms, he remembered the novel well enough to know she probably wasn't in the final stages yet. But his heart still beat harder than it should have. His breath came a little shallower, his fingers curled slightly against his side.
'She's strict, yeah. She's the one who keeps the Archduke and his son in line…she's insanely strong and powerful, even if completely human. She could be considered kind, even. However, she cared about Canaria for more reasons than just the healing.' He bit his lips. 'But I have almost nothing to offer.'
Still, Cassiel had no doubt, he couldn't avoid this meeting.
They reached the door. Viola slowed down, probably noticing his distress.
"Here we are, Young Master," she whispered, her voice careful. "I'll knock now, alright?"
Cassiel gave a small nod, shallowing.
She knocked.
"Come in."