The Author's Will

88 | Time Limit

A few feet away, a young girl of similar age to the boy stood beside a woman who appeared to be a maid, completing the ensemble surrounding the regal lady and her son.

"Theodore," the beautiful blonde woman gently pushed her son to take a step forward. "Say hello. This is your betrothed."

In that moment, a wave of comprehension washed over Irene's mind, as the pieces began to fit together. She hurried towards the emperor who observed the gathering from a slight distance.

"Is this a memory from your past?"

Theodore's gaze glued to the figures before them, observing their interactions with a sense of nostalgic familiarity. "Indeed," he confirmed, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. "This is an exact replay of events that unfolded in my own life."

Irene's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening with a mixture of astonishment and wonder. The experience of witnessing someone's past directly, as if peering through the veil of time, left her with a profound sense of awe. It was a truly remarkable and awe-inspiring phenomenon that stirred her imagination and deepened her appreciation for the mysteries of life.

As her gaze followed Theodore's, she finally caught sight of the little girl who had ignited his younger self's skepticism.

With impeccable grace, the girl offered a regal curtsy, her movements practiced and perfected. "Greetings, Your Highness," she spoke with poise. "My name is Yestala Atlan. It is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Yestala's lavender irises emanated a tranquil wisdom, while her silky ebony hair cascaded with elegance. Her beauty was captivating, enhanced by her warm tan complexion that seemed to glisten in the sunlight. Despite her youthful years, she possessed manners so refined that they put Irene's to shame, leaving her in awe of the girl's polished demeanour.

"Is this..." Irene turned to Theodore, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Daniel's mother?"

Theodore nodded, smiling wistfully as he gazed at the scene unfolding before him. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

As they continued to watch, the little prince Theodore hid behind his mother, petulantly glaring at the little girl. That look he made was so much like Mikael's usual face.

"...I don't like her. She's too tall..." He wailed, crossing his arms.

As soon as he said that, Irene stared pointedly at the Emperor beside her. "It looks like your younger self disagrees."

Theodore let out a sheepish chuckle, seemingly at a loss for words. However, as his gaze lingered upon the young Yestala, Irene detected a profound longing within his eyes. The smile upon his face gradually faded, replaced by a pensive expression of yearning that spoke volumes.

Amidst the silence, neither of them uttered a word, and before long, the memory seamlessly shifted to a new scene.

Irene couldn't help but gasp as the world around them transformed once more, taking them to the heart of a vast training room. Arrayed on the walls were an assortment of practice swords and weapons, lending an air of martial purpose to the chamber.

"Hyah!"

Engaged in a lively wooden swordplay, the same youthful duo from before danced with swift and graceful movements. Theodore, with his slender frame, adeptly parried the strikes aimed at him by the girl dressed in a matching white shirt and black trousers. Her raven hair was neatly tied up in a ponytail, and her lavender eyes gleamed with intense concentration as she skillfully overpowered the prince himself.

"Ugh!" Young Theodore stumbled backward, landing on his bottom, his breath ragged and beads of sweat trickling down his face.

In the midst of the scene, Yestala remained composed, not a single breath out of place, her almond-shaped eyes displaying a formidability akin to Rudien's.