A single autumn leaf fluttered from its branch and danced through the empty air. The flash of red spiraled silently to the bottom of the window, as Mikael watched it disappear. His blonde, wolffish hair streaked across his face and over those deep, dark blue irises. His slim and brittle white body lifelessly laying upon the bed of his prison-like room.

Brother is gone... Was the only thought that echoed through his mind. We didn't even get to say goodbye...

As he clutched the loose collar of his giant white shirt, Mikael gritted his teeth, curling up into a ball. The air was cold and silent, but his body was burning up, and his ears were ringing relentlessly.

The little boy spluttered suddenly - his coughs rattling through his ribcage. He half-buried his face into the sheets of his bed, gasping violently as he tried to tame the fever that seized his body. The silence was broken by his hacking surges of air.

It was only after hearing him suffer that the door of his room opened, and Mikael froze in place. His body shuddered at the sound of those heels clacking on the floor, slowly but surely, approaching his bed.

He didn't have to look or hear the voice of the person who was approaching from behind. He knew full well who it was.

"It seems your fever hasn't let up yet," the cold, raspy voice of a haggard old woman said, with a composed yet venomous tone. "What a repulsive child. Attracting diseases the moment you're about to be sent to live at a duke's grand manor."

Mikael clenched his eyes shut, his weak body shuddering from the pain as his face reddened and broke into a cold sweat. The boy was still gasping for air, unable to say anything to the tall, skinny old woman.

It was from this silence that all of a sudden, anger flared in the woman's expression, as she violently grabbed the boy, seizing his hair and shirt, yanking him up from the bed.

"Who do you think you are, to ignore me?!" She roared through her curled upper lip, malice dripping from every word she said as she spoke through gritted teeth. "Have you forgotten who I am?"

The boy could only gasp in pain as she twisted his head, making him choke and cry out.

"N-No... Ms Cather..." He squeaked, his voice stuck in a burning throat as tears streamed down his deep, lapis-blue eyes.

The woman snarled at the pathetic sight before her, and threw the boy against the wall. He slid to the ground, coughing as he felt his body almost crack at the impact.

She then dug her wrinkly hand into a pocket, adjusting her spectacles before throwing a vial of pills at the boy. It hit his chest, before landing in his lap.

"Take those and get rid of that disgusting fever. You need to be in your best appearance when we move to the Cherliann manor," she snarled, before walking toward the doorway to leave.

It was then that a crude smirk crossed her witch-like face, and she glowered back at the boy who cowered against the wall. "You will finally be of use to me, bastard brat. All these years of raising you will finally pay off."

The witch of a woman clutched the door handle, before taking her leave. Slowly, painfully, Mikael picked up the vial. It was made of some kind of dark blue glass, with a simple golden cap.

"Take one every four hours." Was what it instructed.

If I swallow all of these at once... Will I finally be relieved from all of this...? He wondered, his little tattered hand wrapped around the cold bottle. As he gazed up at the window again, his eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of little white flakes fluttering downwards.

Snow. Winter was here at last.

A month had passed by, as the year finally came to an end. Irene finally turned eight years old, celebrating her birthday with a small party among family and friends — including Isabella, Haren and Ivan.

The early days of January were finally moving toward Mikael's arrival. By now, there was only a week left until his scheduled move to the Cherliann's premises.

"Irene! Look!" Isabella beamed, her gloved hands pointing toward the snow rabbit she made. With little carrot slices for eyes, and a button for a nose, the hazel-haired girl giggled happily as she called out to her friend. "I'm finished! Isn't it cute? It looks just like you!"

Ever since the winter began, snow had been piling up and blanketing the outside world with a sheen, white carpet. It wasn't an uncommon sight, to see snow in Laydel during the winter months.

However, this year it seemed especially impressive. It didn't end with just the ground either; all the trees, bushes, and even the rooftops were decorated with a shimmering blanket that lasted days without melting.

And of course, Irene and Isabella were happily playing in the snow. After their maids dressed them in their finest and cosiest winter wear, the pair had immediately run outside to make animals out of the glittering ice.

Standing up from the snow-covered lawn, Irene laughed softly at her friend's words. "What? But I'm not a rabbit!"

"You kind of look like one! After all, your hair and skin are so pretty and white, and you have such unique golden eyes!" Isabella exclaimed gleefully.

"Well, I suppose it is a really cute rabbit," Irene sighed, glancing at the snowman she had been trying to build. "Mine is... Not going so well."

"Pffft-" a distant voice then resounded from above, and Irene glanced up to see her phoenix companion, suppressing his mirth but to no avail. "Hahaha! What even is that? It looks like a monster!" Snow laughed, eliciting a petulant glare from the white-haired girl.

"You shut your trap!" She snapped, in her mind.

"It doesn't look that bad!" Isabella smiled sheepishly, but Irene could tell - even she had no idea what that sloppy lump of snow was.

"I was trying to make my dad..." Irene frowned, and those words made Snow laugh so hard he was squawking. Thankfully, Isabella couldn't hear him.

Isabella chuckled softly. "Well, I think it'll be hard to replicate a person's face - unless you used magic or were that talented."

Irene sighed disappointedly in response. "I suppose you're right."

After the two girls had returned indoors from playing outside, both Irene and Isabella took a warm bath. Since Isabella was staying over for the night, the two leisurely enjoyed the warmth of the indoors for as long as they wanted.

The two had dinner after their baths, before gathering in Irene's antechamber, sitting by the fireplace with blankets draped at their shoulders.

"Hachoo!" Irene sneezed, her face red and slightly feverish as she inched closer to the dancing, golden flames.

"Did you catch a cold?" Isabella frowned, noticing Irene huddling into her blanket.

"I think so..." She wailed, but the gentle laugh of an approaching maid soon caught her attention.

Joanne smiled, kneeling down as she handed the two girls a tray with mugs filled to the brim with hot chocolate.

"Have some, Your Highnesses. Jane and Gerald made these especially for you." She gently spoke, as both girls grinned at the sight of the delicious drinks.

"Thank you, Joanne. And please thank the chefs for me!" Irene beamed, taking a long sip of the hot drink, which soothed her throat and warmed her hands. It's so cosy... She thought. Sitting at a fireplace like this with hot chocolate... She glanced at Isabella, who was blowing the steam off her drink. With my best friend, too.

"Oh right, I almost forgot to ask," Isabella then spoke up, turning to Irene as Joanne left the two to relax in peace. "Is it true that Prince Mikael is coming to live here, next week?"

Irene nodded slowly, taking another sip of her drink. "So you know... I guess the news has spread."

Isabella frowned, her eyes glancing toward the fire. She was silent for a moment, the flames reflected against her pale brown eyes. But she then spoke up, though reluctantly. "I've heard... So many things, about him," she whispered. "He's no older than us... Yet the world seems to hate him."

Irene turned to look at Isabella, where she noticed a genuine look of sorrow. It makes sense that she would feel sad for him... Irene thought, gazing down at her mug. Mikael was despised and scrutinised by the entire aristocracy. His mother was a terrible woman in her lifetime, after all.

But just because he's her son... It doesn't mean he's the same person. Irene frowned. I wish I wrote him out to be a more happy character in my story... Whenever I think about what he's going through, I can't help but feel responsible.

"Take care of him, Irene," Isabella smiled softly. "I already know you will... But I just wanted to say it."

Irene silently gazed at the warm smile across her friend's face, before remembering just how kind she was. This was the heroine, after all.

"I will, Isabella. I'm going to make sure he lives happily from now," She brushed a strand of white hair around her ear, as she assured her friend with a determined smile. "Who knows? Maybe someday, he'll join us as a close friend, drinking hot chocolate by the fireplace like this."

Isabella smiled, her heart warm. "Yes... That would be nice."

As the two continued to silently sip their sweet chocolate drinks, the night sky outside glistened with winter stars and a full, crystal moon.

And as Irene gazed up at it in admiration, through the giant, arched windows of her lounge; little did she know that the deep, royal-blue eyes of Mikael Laydel were gazing upon the same sight, at the same time — from his tiny, prison-like room.

👁👁