The royal chamber was almost silent except for the faint childish voices of the fae dancing and playing around the magical light on the ceiling, accompanied by the lutes playing softly in the background. Despite these external sounds, a tense silence permeated the room. The Elf Queen sat calmly at the head of the table, observing the silent clash of gazes between the two seated on either side of her: her eldest son Wu'diiyn and her eldest child, daughter Fyr'driin.

The first sat upright, exuding all the grace he possessed, with cold eyes looking at the other disdainfully. Meanwhile, the other leaned back against her chair with an indifferent expression, one eyebrow raised. It was a posture so relaxed that if not for the respect she had for her queen mother, she might have completely ignored all decorum and crossed her legs. She lacked the graceful manners that the elves, especially the noble ones, took pride in. For someone who had spent most of her life outside the palace, or even the kingdom, this didn’t seem all that unusual.

The time spent from her childhood to youth had only served to nurture the free spirit and nonchalance inherited from her father, and now, eight years later, she seemed to have somehow found her way back to the palace once more. Each time she returned with more scars, becoming less of a princess and more of an adventurer, a warrior.

A wandering adventurer and a bounty hunter.

Who would have thought that the elegant and noble Elf Queen, admired for her beauty and splendor, would envy her own daughter? Once, lost in childish dreams, she too wished to travel the world with him, to embark on long adventures, make discoveries, and gain firsthand knowledge of various cultures, places, plants, and creatures. She wished to break through the iron boundaries of noble blood and escape the burdens it would bring to her shoulders. Even if she knew she would fail, a dream is still a dream, and it’s the biggest world a child cannot give up.

And yet, who could say that the noble queen, hiding behind a mask of pride, was genuinely happy for her daughter, no matter how much it had changed her, and was proud of her for achieving something she herself couldn’t?

On the other side sat her son, Wu'diiyn. He was roughly a hundred years younger than his sister, making him now 154 years old. While his sister had been spending her youth—since her fifties—exploring the outside world, he, like his mother, had been trapped within the inner walls of the palace and the wide lands of the kingdom guarded by its vast borders. He had grown up amid the rigid norms of elf nobility, and in his eyes, his sister was an affront to noble blood, no different from a commoner. Now, despite meeting her at the table just after her arrival last night, he made no effort to hide his disdain.

"I see you haven't changed at all, little brother," Fyr'driin began with a slight hint of mockery. There was a faint, almost forced smile on her face. "As always, you warm my heart with the warmth in your eyes."

The Elf Queen let out a small sigh. Here we go.

Wu'diiyn responded with a scornful sneer, "And you, as always, return with more scars and less royal blood. I wonder how much remains in your veins after all the blood you've spilled?" He briefly glanced at the queen before turning back to his sister, "I’m sure you’ve lost most of it by now."

A silence settled in the room for a moment. Fyr'driin raised an eyebrow, murmuring, "Oh?" A sharp glint flashed in her eyes. "Who knows, maybe we should test it on you to be sure," she retorted sarcastically, her smile barely noticeable. "What do you say, brother?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Always such a joker, aren’t you? But no, I think I’ll pass. Unlike some, my blood actually has value."

The queen’s eyes shifted back and forth between the two as she listened to their banter. She couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh once the silence returned.

At least it wasn't as long and loud as their old arguments. Although she knew the main reason was her presence. If she weren’t here, there could have been a real fight between them like in the old days.

First, she glanced at her son, who had his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, his gaze shifting around disinterestedly to signal his lack of interest in the argument. Then she turned to her daughter, whose expression was calm and indifferent compared to her brother’s, as she observed the variety of dishes on the table protected by a magic circle that kept them warm and fresh. She seemed slightly hungry. And truthfully, though she didn’t show it, the queen herself was beginning to grow impatient and hungry as well.

Where are they, really?

Just as she thought this, the grand doors of the royal chamber opened slowly, revealing a young boy and girl. Though, in this case, they looked more like a boy and a woman.

The first, who seemed thin and short next to the second, was her son Tee’yhan. His light blue eyes reminded her of her late spouse, and he carried the glimmer of purity she hoped he’d never lose, the same purity that all her other children once possessed.

Beside him stood Reagan, who was nearly as tall as she was. The firstborn of Demon King Aidz Hū Baūl. From afar, she could be mistaken for a woman, but up close, the unfinished features of her youthful face revealed that she was still a growing girl. Although she carried Aidz's dark orbs in her eyes, in those two shadows lay a disturbing emptiness that even Aidz didn’t possess.

That emptiness seemed to look, to see, far deeper than it appeared. This girl, whom the queen found a piece of herself in, was a curious and inquisitive soul like her. While the queen couldn’t always visit the library due to her duties, whenever she did, she would find her there, sometimes reading a traveler’s journal, sometimes studying the anatomy of animals or plants, and sometimes exploring love stories or philosophy books.

The queen’s eyes drifted to the girl’s single horn amidst her white hair. It had thickened and grown since her childhood, now reaching at least the length of a hand. It curved from the left side of her head and rose sharply. From the right, it might have seemed to be positioned at her forehead.

She feels better here than in her own palace? The Queen couldn't help but think, deep down.

On the other side, Wu'diiyn watched her with a cold expression, as if she were another nuisance like Fyr'driin. Yet even he couldn’t deny that despite being a demon, Reagan appeared more noble-born than his sister—at least, for a demon. Still, it wouldn’t lessen the contempt he felt for this rot-blood who had lived in the elf palace for so long.

Fyr'driin, on the other hand, was initially taken aback by the sight of a demon. But instead of disdain or coldness, a hint of respect took its place for the way Reagan carried herself and dressed. Her steps were light and practical, both unhurried and relaxed. She had a strong posture and maintained eye contact. Her attire was free of ostentation, practical and comfortable, always ready for a fight—Fyr'driin didn’t need to mention her own distaste for long robes and skirts. On her feet were simple black leather boots, light and silent, making her steps almost weightless. Her hair was cut short like Fyr'driin’s, which would prevent any stray locks from falling in front of her eyes during combat and breaking her focus.

Fyr'driin’s eyes immediately fell to the girl’s waist; she wasn’t carrying any swords. Perhaps, due to entering the royal chamber, she wasn’t allowed to bring a weapon like Fyr'driin. Or maybe she didn’t wield one in the first place. Fyr'driin’s keen elf eyes examined the girl’s slender fingers with sharp black nails. She tried to spot calluses on her palm, but the angle wasn’t right.

A martial artist then? she thought. Maybe.

“Sister?!” Fyr'driin’s attention was drawn to the boy’s voice. “You came too?! When did you return?! You didn’t even tell me!” The boy's excitement was unmistakable in his voice and eyes.

Fyr'driin couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across her face. Who else could it be but her cute brother? Her earlier glance at him had been vague and insignificant, overshadowed by her interest in the girl beside him. The boy still carried the same endearing clarity in his eyes as when he was a five-year-old child eight years ago, and his pale cheeks now bore a pink blush. Fyr'driin chuckled softly, giving a gentle reminder with a nod towards his mother, “Allow the elders to speak first, young man.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

This child is truly full of life, isn’t he? Perhaps I should take him along next time to broaden his horizons. I wonder what would Mother think about that.

“I’m sorry for being late, Mother.” Tee’yhan, with a slightly embarrassed expression, bowed his head lightly before the queen. On the other hand, Reagan still maintaining a vacant stare in response to Fyr'driin’s curious gaze until Tee’yhan had to discreetly nudge Reagan with his finger at her waist, encouraging her to imitate him.

“Oh, I’m glad you could finally arrive. For a moment, I was worried my dear son and our esteemed princess had lost their way,” the queen quipped lightly, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

Princess? Fyr'driin's interest deepened. She's the daughter of the Demon King?

The queen elegantly gestured to the seats beside her, or next to her children. "Come, we were waiting for you."

We are really starving, you little brats! she muttered internally, her face still maintaining a soft smile.

As the pair approached the table, Fyr'driin unexpectedly picked up a fruit—yes, a fruit—from the table and suddenly hurled it towards Reagan.

The pear was thrown with such speed that it flew past the frozen figure of Tee’yhan within a second, heading directly for Reagan. And before anyone could turn their eyes in that direction, a cracking sound reverberated through the spacious hall, halting even the elven musicians playing the lute and the fae who fluttered about.

The silence was broken by the curious fae flocking nearby, chirping, “What's that?! What's that?!” A small yellow-glowing fae fluttered around Reagan, while a white-glowing one landed on Tee’yhan’s head, also chirping in its tiny voice, “What happened?! What’s going on?!”

“What…?!” Tee’yhan, with the same reaction, whipped his head in Reagan’s direction so quickly that it almost stumbled if not for the wings of the fae on his head. “Wiiyh! Hey, watch it, will you?! Hmph!”

He saw Reagan standing there, with a pear smashed against her forehead and its juices slowly trickling down her chin, her head slightly tilted back as she stared blankly upwards. “R-Reagan, are you okay?!” He turned to Fyr'driin in half-shock, half-anger, “Sister, what’s the meaning of this?!”

The white fae immediately flew over to join the yellow fae and started nibbling at the pieces on Reagan’s face and sipping the juice with their tiny teeth, chirping gleefully. Meanwhile, a soft sigh could be heard from Reagan’s mouth as she slowly lowered her head, emotionless eyes now turning towards Fyr'driin while shooing the fae away with her hand.

“Hey, we were just starting! Say something, Yingji!” the white fae chirped.

“Come on, Jingji! There’s better stuff on the table!” the yellow one chirped back.

And so, the two mischievous little fae, Yingji and Jingji, flew over to the table and gleefully buried themselves in the feast, taking advantage of the moment of shock.

Despite Fyr'driin's eyes having briefly widened in surprise while looking at Reagan, they quickly shifted to a suspicious narrowing. It was clear she either hadn’t heard Tee’yhan’s question or didn’t care. “Why didn’t you dodge, or try to catch?” she asked Reagan.

Reagan looked at her with a vacant expression as she gathered pure mana into her hands and directed it towards her face. “The speed was too great for me to see or react to it.”

Liar.

The queen also narrowed her eyes slightly at Reagan. Only Queen Yewsher and Fyr'driin had seen Reagan catch sight of the pear while it was still mid-air. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t have caught it if she wanted to, so why didn’t she? Oh, but before that…

“Fyr'driin,” the queen said, her tone subtly sharp, “would you care to explain why you did that?” She asked calmly, treading the fine line between a mother and a queen.

Fyr'driin didn’t break her gaze from Reagan for a moment before finally turning to her mother, a faintly mocking smile gracing her lips. “I actually wanted to test her,” she replied, giving Reagan a brief, meaningful look before turning back to the queen, “and our beautiful princess here has certainly passed my test.”

Tee’yhan’s eyes darted curiously and widely between his sister and Reagan. What test? What did she pass? His older brother Wu'diiyn was almost the same, equally confused about what happened and what exactly the girl had passed. Above all, how could this savage woman dare act so disrespectfully before the queen?! He frowned, shaking his head in disapproval, his gaze shifting towards the queen as if seeking affirmation for his disapproval.

But the queen seemed interested, merely raising an intrigued eyebrow. “Hearing it from you is quite surprising.” With a barely noticeable smirk, she leaned forward slightly and whispered, “Are you telling me you’re searching for a worthy rival?” Fyr'driin’s lips curled into a faint, playful grin. “Perhaps,” she whispered back.

When the queen and Fyr'driin both leaned back, their faces bore serious expressions contradicting their smiles.

The queen, with a calm but slightly authoritative tone, said, “However, regardless of the reason, what you did was not right, Fyr'driin. I’m sure you are as aware of this as I am. This is not a playground, and besides, Princess Reagan Mrithūnjaya is considered our guest of honor. You should not have used such force, without being so sure she could handle it,” she scolded her daughter.

I had no doubt she could handle it, someone with the eyes of a killer.

“I won’t tell you that you need to apologize, as you surely already know that’s what you should do,” the queen continued, while still essentially instructing her on what to do.

Fyr'driin lowered her head respectfully towards the woman in front of her—not as her queen, but as her beloved mother and respected elder. Among the elves, respect for elders had been a longstanding tradition, yet that didn’t mean she respected every elder; only her deceased father and her queen mother were exceptions.

She then turned her gaze to Reagan, directly looking into her eyes. “I apologize, young princess. Whether you forgive my rudeness or not is up to you, though I must admit I’m not entirely remorseful,” she said with a wink, “…as long as it wasn’t wasted.”

I was confident you could catch it; your words say otherwise, but your eyes don’t. Yet you deliberately let yourself be hit, not even bothering to react, despite the force of the throw being enough to knock someone unconscious or, at the very least, give a demon a headache.

I look forward to the moment we clash.

Tee’yhan and Wu'diiyn exchanged a brief look while the queen sighed softly. She gestured once more to both sides, “Take a sit, let’s finally have breakfast,” she urged, half-exasperated, half-impatient.

…

What was that woman’s problem? I really don’t understand. She was trying to harm me? But if that’s the case, why throw a pear? That seems absurd.

There wasn’t any poison in the pear, either. I won’t claim to know every poison, but I am familiar with the scents and preparations of some—from various snakes and insects to all kinds of plants. There wasn’t a trace of poison, nor any other scent besides that of the pear. Well, those with a mana nose could mask the poison’s scent. But not the taste, not from me. When I tasted it, I detected no poison. So that rules out that idea.

My gaze briefly scanned everyone at the table, each calmly eating their meal as if nothing had happened. Though I couldn’t entirely miss Tee’yhan’s occasional worried glances towards me, I just… let it flow.

I allowed my thoughts to flow no matter what. What happened had happened, and there was no point in tiring my mind over things I couldn’t make sense of right now.

I decided to focus on the simplest thing— the food on the plate in front of me. Well, the truth is... it's not that I could actually eat it. I would just consume the mana the chefs infused into the ingredients while preparing the dishes. What irony. To possess a Mana Tongue but not be able to use it properly. Since my childhood, even infancy, whenever I ate, I would end up vomiting. It stemmed from my inability to digest the food. Strangely enough, though, I never felt the need for it. I never truly felt hungry. Nor did I ever feel the need to expel any solid or liquid waste.

My eyes fell to my palm. I thought of the warm blood coursing through the black veins beneath my warm skin. Truly, how could blood circulate in my body without a heart? There wasn’t a single thing in my body that could fully function as a heart. In fact, thinking about it, there’s more to account for than just a heart.

I knew this almost every night here through the experiments conducted on me.

I remember watching them as they cut open my body with sharp knives. The slight tingling sensation in my body as the warm, black blood flowed out. They didn’t numb me because I didn’t feel pain, and they didn’t put me to sleep because I didn’t care. On the contrary, I wanted to see— to see what lay inside me.

Inside me… it was completely rotten. I still remember the shock in those renowned physicians’ eyes back then.

Actually, the dark magic causing the rot inside me seemed to have been halted from spreading further. But it didn’t matter; the rot had already spread to almost all my organs. At least I got rid of them too. It made me feel lighter. And…

More empty.

More... empty…

I think there’s no word that describes me better than that. Emptiness. Empty. Nothingness.

Void.

As I gathered the mana from the apple tart in front of me into my palm, I thought. After all, there was nothing better for me to do. To think.

I recalled the question Queen Yewsher asked me when we first met.

What are you?

What am I, really?

There are thousands, maybe millions of peculiarities in the world, too much unnatural things happening. So how is it that my situation still remains an unknown and extraordinary mystery even among these?

I directed the mana I absorbed from the tart to my index finger and pressed it against my chest, letting it slowly merge into my meridians.

Why do I think so much? Shouldn’t I be like Tee’yhan and my other peers? Shouldn’t I be a silly young girl who enjoys life? Maybe I’d fall in love with a handsome boy, like in the novels?

I wonder, if I had been someone else… If I had been born as someone different, how would things be? A more normal person, perhaps a human. Would I be happier? Or if I were an animal, would things be different?

Once, in a philosophical book, I came across a quote from an elven scholar. It said: 'A person is the reflection of their soul upon the external world; the soul is the essence, and a person is what their soul is. The body is merely a fleeting shell accompanying us in this journey, like a snake shedding its skin.'

So essentially, I am whatever my soul is. Is this what it means? Is my soul the one old within this shell? Or am I the one seeing myself this way?

I don’t know.

I truly don’t know…

…

Jingjin and Yingjin sat on Reagan’s right and left shoulders, waiting for her to finish. Others would have shooed them away, but that wasn’t the case for Reagan. After all, she never actually ate her food, which meant they could dive into her untouched meal as usual! Hehe! And was that tart today?! Yay, it's the best!

“Hey, Rei Rei!”

“Hey, Mri Mri!”

Both called out to Reagan in unison with the nicknames they had given her. With a soft sigh, Reagan glanced over her shoulder at the tiny duo who had been a constant source of silliness since she arrived at the palace. She nodded slightly and pushed her plate forward before they even asked. “Alright, I’m done. Dig in.”

With that, the pair squealed with excitement and flew onto the tart with great eagerness and appetite. Ah, but not before planting a kiss on both her cheeks from each side.

As the other four ate, they glanced briefly at Reagan and the two. All except Fyr’driin were taken aback, particularly Tee’yhan. No, he truly get shocked when he look at Reagan.

Reagan…

She is… smiling?

And in a way more beautiful and humble than anyone he had ever seen before…

*