Just a Little Trick

The duration of the embrace wasn’t long.

Compared to the time it took to fall from the high platform, a single embrace felt like just an instant.

During those seconds of falling, it seemed as though he walked through his entire life in his mind, but perhaps the past was simply too distant—many things had already become blurry.

He had already forgotten what it felt like to hug his brother.

Even the friendly kind, the welcoming and encouraging kind—he couldn’t recall… after all, only in their childhood had they ever done such things.

“Are you alright?

If something is bothering you, you can tell me.”

Solor did not refuse his sister’s embrace.

He sat by her bed and allowed her to hold him.

Before Solor, this Elli could always remain composed.

After all, she was someone tempered by countless trials; putting on a mask was the easiest thing for her—it even happened literally.

Before her final battle with Solor, that great fire had burned half his face, though it was a blessing in disguise, making it easier for him to hide his micro-expressions.

Now the mask was gone, but the face in the mirror belonged to someone else.

The mask named “Elli” now rested upon Eriq’s face.

She had to become a gentle and shy princess.

But—whatever.

Who cares.

Right now she only wanted to hug her royal brother.

Nothing more.

She only wanted to use this embrace to convey the words she could not speak: long time no see.

Although they had seen each other often before, and since arriving in this world Solor visited her almost daily, for her… a brother who smiled at her—truly, it had been a long time.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that.

Perhaps until Elli grew used to the faint ink scent at Solor’s neck, she finally released her arms.

During the hug, Solor couldn’t see her face, so Elli could freely show any expression she wanted—but even she herself didn’t know what she looked like just now.

Maybe she had frowned, because when she opened her eyes, her eyebrows felt a bit sore.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?

I can help you.

Don’t bottle it up.”

Seeing the faint trace of a crease still in Elli’s brows, Solor sighed and reached out to brush aside her hair, gently smoothing her brow with his fingers.

“…”

Something she wanted to say?

No, she had nothing left.

The words “long time no see” had already been spoken in her heart.

So there was nothing more.

“No, Imperial Brother, nothing else.

I’m fine.”

It sounded like she was trying to reassure her family, but to Solor, it resembled “don’t bother me”—a refusal, a rejection.

Solor lifted his head and looked into Elli’s eyes.

He tried to find his reflection within that pink hue—he was indeed there, reflected in her gaze, but the hazy, indescribable emotion within her eyes blurred his outline.

Eriq had always been good at pretending.

As the political target of all, he concealed every emotion.

He was best at smiling—gentle and approachable before the common folk, but with a cold sharp edge before the arrogant nobles.

People said Eriq’s eyes held a hunger for power.

But the truth proved otherwise—the so-called ambition was a lie; the struggle for the throne had been nothing but a family game for him, a game that required a winner.

“…”

“…Haa…”

Seeing Elli’s expression, Solor let out a long sigh.

He looked at her—a face holding that subtle, almost forced smile—and softly said:

“Elli, give me your hand.”

Though confused by Solor’s request, Elli obediently reached out her hand, revealing the scar on her palm.

Perhaps when Elli had fallen, her instinct had been “I don’t want to die yet.”

So even though she thought she had already made her decision a moment earlier, the next second—when her body truly lost balance—her survival instinct made her grab the nearby branch.

Did she think of Solor right before dying?

Just as she, as Eriq, had?

What kind of Solor flashed through her mind?

Perhaps it wasn’t the one she imagined—after all, she could no longer picture Solor smiling at her.

The scar in her palm was proof of her fall, proof of her desire to live, and proof that Eriq opened his eyes once more.

She opened her hand.

The scar was glaringly visible—but soon, placed upon the scabbed wound, was something that blocked her view.

A piece of candy.

Cotton candy.

She recognized the brand.

Why she remembered it wasn’t because she ate it often.

In her previous life, the factory that made this candy collaborated with the Moore family’s food industry.

And the Moore family’s only son was the vice-captain of the Royal Knights.

To oppose that version of Solor, she had to understand such things.

“…What is this for?”

But before this Solor, she still had to act unaware.

“A little trick for coaxing children.

I happened to get it from Kallai.”

Kallai, of course, referred to the Moore heir.

Earlier Solor had said he went to meet him, claiming he went there to get advice on bonding with his sister—but… what was this candy about?

Was it some childish “give candy and problems disappear” method?

“I asked Kallai what I should do.

He threw this candy at me and said—‘Eat something sweet, it helps your brain think faster.

When you think faster, you’ll come up with a solution.’”

“…”

Elli blinked at those words.

Thinking back to Kallai’s behavior, he indeed was the type who could completely deadpan while telling a joke.

He looked serious, but his sense of humor surpassed anyone’s.

In court, when she was still the Second Prince, she had been verbally destroyed by Kallai many times.

He often called her the ‘external brain of the captain.’

All that sharp-tongued sarcasm was mostly reserved for mocking her—the opposing side.

“So.

Did you come up with a good solution?”

“No.

I only thought of you.”

“…😧”

Such simple words—yet Elli couldn’t understand them for a moment.

“When you were little—really little, just learning to talk—the kitchen made some sweet dishes to amuse you.

You must’ve liked them, because you kept mumbling ‘candy, candy’ over and over.

You followed me everywhere saying it, and it was too noisy while I was reading, so I tore a page out of my notebook, crumpled it, and told you it was a big candy ball.

And you… silly as you were… actually bit into it.

When you realized it tasted wrong, you started screaming, dragged the maids over, and Mother scolded me—‘How could you feed your sister paper!’”

“After that, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I was in the wrong, so I asked a maid for real candy to give you.

But then Father scolded me again—‘She’s too young, her teeth haven’t grown properly, how can you feed her such sweet candy!’… haha…”

As Solor spoke of the past, he laughed at himself.

Perhaps because it was such a childish and embarrassing memory, a faint blush even stained his cheeks.

And Elli?

She listened as though hearing a story.

A beautiful fairy tale.

Though she was “Elli” now, she felt a strange distance, an unreal sensation.

“Because I was scolded twice in a row, I never forgot that incident.

But I also remembered how happy you always were when you ate sweets.

I remembered you liked sweet things.

And I remembered Kallai’s words—eat something sweet, let your mind move faster.

No matter what it is, it will pass.”

As he spoke, Solor gently nudged her fingers, curling them, letting her hand close around both the scar and the candy.

“If you need me, I’m always here.”

Elli blinked and looked at the smiling Solor before her.

He felt unreal.

But those red eyes were right in front of her.