WTSP - 13

Serdelius gazed at the tranquil lake. The surface shimmered brilliantly, reflecting the blazing sunlight like scattered jewels.

A solitary gust of biting wind brushed past his cheek without a sound. Though intangible, its sharpness stung as if sliced by a blade. His skin prickled with an icy burn.

Alone, without a single knight or attendant in sight, he stood staring at the pond.

The knights, concerned for the emperor’s safety, had attempted to keep watch from a distance, but Serdelius had refused even that. He simply wanted solitude.

The pristine blue lake mirrored the sky above, unblemished by even a speck of dust. If there was heaven above, then below stretched a rippling expanse of water.

His mother, Alicia, had always admired eagles soaring high in the skies, their wings outstretched in flight.

“If only I had wings. Then I could savor freedom without being bound by time or place.”

“Mother.”

“The things that define me... are not truly who I am. Why are they so desperate to chain me down, Del?”

The young crown prince remembered those murmured words his mother would often mutter to herself.

Born into the Solian duchy, Alicia married the emperor at the age of twenty—a free-spirited, adventurous, and beautiful woman.

Upon receiving the Carlot surname, she conceived the emperor’s child within a year.

The empire erupted in celebration, and everything seemed to fall perfectly into place.

Her role was clear: to solidify the bond between the Solian duchy and the imperial household.

But Alicia was unhappy. She hadn’t desired this marriage, yet over time, she came to love her husband deeply.

A bird caged cannot make proper judgments.

Even if her husband was cold and merciless, she longed for his affection. She prayed the life growing inside her would resemble him.

She believed that once the child was born, the emperor would love her even more.

But partings often arrive when least expected. On the day she slipped and tumbled down the stairs, Alicia lost the child she carried.

The years that followed were too horrific to recall.

It took four years before Alicia could conceive again.

During that time, the emperor took two concubines and completely turned his attention away from her.

Haunted by the fear of losing another child, Alicia spent ten anxious months. Finally, the crown prince of the Carlot Empire was born.

The emperor named him Serdelius.

Though she had given birth to the long-awaited heir, reality proved far crueler than Alicia had anticipated.

Only weeks after Serdelius’ birth, the emperor welcomed a new concubine.

All eyes turned to the woman who had miraculously conceived in a single night.

Once again, Empress Alicia was cast aside.

“Did you truly wish to fly so badly?”

That was all in the past now.

At twenty-eight, Serdelius had seized the throne during his coming-of-age ceremony, defeating both his father and half-brother.

Crimson droplets fell from the tip of his sword, one by one. Even as he drove his blade into the bloodline of another womb, Serdelius remained impassive.

His mother, Alicia, who had yearned for the skies, eventually threw herself into the blue lake.

Perhaps unable to take flight in the heavens, she sought solace in the waves that resembled him.

Serdelius tried hard not to dwell on that day.

It was a tragedy too heavy for a mere thirteen-year-old boy to bear.

Silently staring at the lake, he tossed a pebble he’d been holding. With a soft splash, it created ripples before sinking without a trace.

Tilting his head back, the scorching sunlight illuminated his emerald-green eyes. Today, the sky was exceptionally clear.

Suddenly, a name surfaced in Serdelius’ mind.

Ophelia Meredith. The daughter of an insignificant baronial family, with hair as white as snow—and…

“That expression—it’s been a while since I’ve seen someone wear it.”

How could he forget the moment she tensed upon receiving the necklace from him, only to transform completely moments later?

The image of the thin necklace rolling at her feet still felt vivid.

But what lingered even more strongly in his memory was Ophelia’s gaze.

“I will not yield to you. I refuse to be bound by rules.”

Her fiery eyes spoke volumes.

And yet, the fourth empress defied all his expectations. How could someone with such a determined look collapse so suddenly?

Though the coronation atmosphere descended into chaos, Serdelius found the situation oddly enjoyable.

At the same time, an indescribable emotion weighed heavily on his heart. Perhaps it reminded him of someone who, trapped in the vast cage of the palace, had ultimately pursued the blue freedom of the skies.

Closing his eyelids, Serdelius sought time to organize his thoughts.

---

“Pompoo, you’re not supposed to come out.”

“Pooo! Puu! Poo!”

Despite his small size, Pompoo was proving to be quite the spirited spirit.

Though we’d only met 24 hours ago, he already displayed a stubborn streak. No matter how much I begged him to stay hidden in my hair, Pompoo floated around freely.

“What if someone sees you? Most people don’t even know about snow spirits.”

“Pom, Pong, Pooh.”

With that irresistibly cute face, he responded to every word I said. It felt like dealing with a two-month-old puppy.

Could spirits really be this stubborn?

Pompoo seemed to understand every word I said, judging by how he expressed various emotions and replied accordingly.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t comprehend his language. I could only guess he was being defiant.

After bidding farewell to my brothers, I told Lena I’d be taking a short walk. It took some effort to dissuade her from accompanying me.

Living here felt like having two younger siblings: the sweet but overly worried Lena and the mischievous Pompoo, who refused to listen.

In the end, I entered the garden cradling Pompoo just as I had the day before.

As the main imperial garden, it housed hundreds of flower and plant species. Though spring hadn’t fully arrived, a few flowers had already begun to bloom.

“This is Saint Paulia. Doesn’t it look like white petals splashed with purple paint?”

“Poo, Po…”

“And this is Poinsettia. Its name sounds similar to yours, Pompoo.”

The flowers of the Carlot Empire weren’t much different from Earth’s. Occasionally, I’d spot unfamiliar blooms, but most were familiar.

“I do know quite a bit about flowers.”

Before I became interested in writing, I loved visiting gardens in spring. I even kept a few potted plants at home.

Looking back, Father must have thought gardening was good for mental discipline. Watering the plants daily and saving up pocket money to buy new seeds had been a cherished hobby.

Pompoo, seemingly seeing such vibrant flowers for the first time, marveled at the flowerbeds with his shiny black-bean eyes.

Since spirits usually lived in nature, the flowers cultivated here likely differed from those growing wild in the mountains.

Holding Pompoo in one hand, I explained each flower.

“This isn’t a flower; it’s a tree. Pine trees maintain their appearance year-round. I didn’t expect to find them in the Carlot Empire.”

“Pooo.”

“Is that your way of saying it’s interesting? And this flower… Hmm, I knew it, but I can’t remember its name now. What was it?”

The red and deep pink flower’s name eluded me momentarily.

Ugh, how frustrating. I knew it—I had even mentioned it in A Common Girl Becomes Empress!

“Pompoo, I can’t remember. Maybe Ophelia’s memories are overshadowing mine.”

“Poo? Pom…”

Just as frustration overwhelmed me, a voice echoed softly in my ear. A simple, concise phrase:

“Cyclamen.”

“Oh, right! Cyclamen! How could I forget…”

Turning my head in surprise, I saw him.

“What is this?”

The wind tousled his jet-black hair as Serdelius examined Pompoo, holding him by the tail with an amused expression.

How did he approach without making a sound? It was startling every time.

Before I could worry whether he’d overheard me, I reached out my hands.

“That hurts him! Please let go!”

“A monster? Judging by appearances, it seems rather pitiful.”

“He’s not a monster! Pompoo is…”

“You’ve even named it.”

Pompoo wriggled desperately, trying to escape Serdelius’ grip on his fluffy tail.

Overwhelmed, I attempted to snatch Pompoo back, but Serdelius’ reflexes were superior.

“A pet? Or perhaps a pet monster?”

“Neither, Your Majesty! …Please let him go.”

He clearly had no knowledge of Prüna, the lesser snow spirit.

As Serdelius inspected Pompoo’s round body from all angles, amusement danced in his eyes.

Evidently, he considered Pompoo some obscure low-level monster. Should I tell him Pompoo was a snow spirit?

For a fleeting moment, conflicting thoughts swirled chaotically in my mind.

“Po… Poo… Po…”

“It’s indecipherable. Can you translate Monsterese, Empress?”

“I’m not sure, but I think he’s saying you should stop…”

I locked eyes with Pompoo, dangling helplessly by his tail.

Though I couldn’t understand his words, one thing was certain: angering little Pompoo would spell trouble.

“POOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

And just like that, my hunch proved correct.

Serdelius’ jet-black hair turned stark white—an unmistakable sign of Pompoo’s displeasure.