After Eira’s bath, Hera arrived with bowls of indigo paste and brushes. The sharp, herbal scent of the dye cut through the floral steam still clinging to the princess’s skin.

  Blue, Eira had requested. Like the sky on a sunny day. The color of the sea and the garden’s butterflies.

  Seated before her vanity, Eira studied her reflection. Her pale skin and silver-white hair looked like spun moonlight in the mirror. Hera’s brushstrokes were gentle, parting the strands with practiced care.

  “You’re beautiful, Princess,” Hera murmured.

  “Am I?” Eira’s fingers traced her own cheekbones.

  “You look just like Lady Liora.”

  A shadow flickered in Eira’s eyes. “I… barely remember her face.”

  “Eight years is a long time for a child,” Hera soothed. “But her blood lives in you. Her courage, too.”

  Eira’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Nana… can I really defeat the Black Dragon?”

  “You can, Princess,” Hera said firmly. “But don’t imagine you’ll face it alone. Many seek revenge on that dragon. They are training hard, just like you.”

  “You’re right, Nana.” Eira smiled, her spine straightening as a spark of her old fire returned. “Heroes fight as a party, not alone.”

  The dye, however, had other plans. Instead of the rich sapphire they had envisioned, Eira’s hair took on a soft, shimmering azure.

  “Princess, it’s too light!” Hera fretted, holding up a lock. “It will fade within weeks!”

  “It’s perfect,” Eira laughed, twirling a strand around her finger. “Like the first clear day after a storm.”

  Hera sighed but finally smiled. “I’ll write down the instructions for you. And whatever you do, don't let Dain near the dye.”

  At dawn, Dain knocked on the library door. He found Eira sitting amidst her favorite books, saying her silent goodbyes to the room.

  “Are you ready, Princess?” Dain asked excitedly. “I’ve packed everything we might need.”

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  “You look more excited than I am,” Eira said, eyeing the massive backpack and two additional bags he was lugging. “Are all those really necessary?”

  “Absolutely!” He dropped a bundle into her arms—a traveler’s cloak, frayed but sturdy. “Wear this outside. And here is your passport.” He handed her a forged document. “We’re travelers from Deusvalle seeking fortune. Alibi secured!”

  “…Ehh?”

  “Yes. We need to hide our identities, just as King Roran instructed. You’ll also need a new name. Outside the palace, no one knows us. We just need to change your last name.”

  “'Us'? So you’ve done this before? Is that how you got all those books?”

  “Well, wearing royal knight armor has its perks. No one questions me, especially since I never take off my helmet.”

  “By the way, what’s your fake name, Dain?”

  “Dain Monslayer,” he said proudly. “Short for Monster Slayer. Haha!”

  Eira’s nose wrinkled. “That’s cringe.”

  “Monker? Short for Monster Breaker?”

  “Sounds like ‘monkey.’” She sighed, shaking her head. “Just use Mortel. It’s from Legends of the Old Kings.”

  Dain pouted but relented. “And you?”

  “Eira Liorwel. From now on, call me Eira. No more ‘princess,’ okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Just Eira.”

  “Understood, ma’am.”

  “Anyway,” Eira said, adjusting the heavy cloak over her shoulders. “Shall we go?”

  “Leaving without saying goodbye to me?”

  Her brother, Prince Eldryn, was leaning against the doorframe. His golden hair was tousled, as if he had rushed there straight from bed.

  “Brother!” Eira launched herself into his arms. “I thought you were surveying the realm!”

  “I skipped it.” His embrace tightened. “Father told me everything.”

  Eldryn pressed a pendant into her palm. It was a white, feather-shaped charm set with an emerald magic crystal—their mother’s treasured heirloom.

  “But you’re the heir—”

  “She’d want you to have it,” he interrupted softly. “Let it guide you.”

  Tears welled as Eira clutched the crystal. Beside them, Dain and Eldryn exchanged a fist-bump.

  “Next time, we duel with no restrictions,” Eldryn said.

  “I look forward to it,” Dain answered.

  They slipped out through the palace’s west wing. The scorched stones here still bore the scars of the Black Night. Few dared to walk this path; the air itself seemed to hum with the echoes of old pain.

  “Even though this part has been restored, people still avoid it,” Dain noted, his voice dropping.

  “This is where the heroes fell,” Eira whispered. “And Mother.”

  “Lady Liora was a hero, too,” Dain said with a proud smile. “She fought alongside my brother to repel the dragon.”

  “Reynard…” Eira whispered the name of the fallen knight. She shook her head, shaking off the gloom. “Enough ghosts. Adventure awaits!”

  “Oooohhh!”