"You’re here! Welcome, welcome!" As soon as Ezra gets out of the carriage with Lior, he hears a familiar voice exclaim, bright and unmistakable.

And of course, who else would be that familiar voice but Alyce herself?

Alyce practically ran to them, the light steps of her shoes barely making a sound against the ground, her skirts lifting just slightly with the motion, which made Ezra’s eyes widen almost immediately.

"Y-Your Highness, should you really be running—"

The words died halfway.

Because the first thing he noticed was her dress.

Her dress wasn’t like the structured gowns he was used to seeing in Luxaelis, the kind that clung tightly to the waist or flared dramatically with layers meant to impress, the kind that demanded attention.

This one was...different.

It fell softly from just beneath her chest, the fabric flowing down in smooth, weightless folds that shifted gently with each step she took, like it barely had any weight at all.

It didn’t hold her in place, didn’t try to shape her into something rigid or expected. It simply followed her, moving as naturally as she did, as if it were made for ease rather than display.

Gold and white.

The colors blended so seamlessly that it didn’t feel loud, didn’t feel forced.

The white softened everything, made it light, almost delicate, while the gold caught the sunlight just enough to give it a quiet glow, something that made her stand out without trying too hard.

And then there were the roses.

Red ones, embroidered delicately along the edges of her sleeves and trailing along the lower hem, curling in small, careful patterns that looked intentional, not excessive.

It wasn’t overwhelming, wasn’t meant to dominate the dress, but it was there, subtle enough to draw the eye when noticed.

It gave the dress something softer.

Something personal.

’Her beauty is unfair,’ Ezra thought, his brows pulling together just slightly as he tried not to frown, his gaze lingering a second longer than it should have before he forced himself to look away.

"Princess, please don’t run. You know it’s not befitting of a princess," Carlisle says as he gets down from the carriage as well, his tone controlled but firm as he glanced at Ezra for a brief moment, catching the way Ezra had been staring, before heading straight to Alyce. "And I thought you would be waiting in the garden."

"I couldn’t help myself," Alyce says with an innocent smile, the kind that didn’t even try to hide her excitement, but Carlisle just narrowed his eyes at her.

"You could’ve gotten your dress dirty," Carlisle says, his voice dipping just slightly, almost like a scolding.

That was new.

The aide, a butler no less, was scolding the princess.

Ezra’s eyes flicker between them, taking it in.

Which meant they were close, right?

So, that meant Alyce was the type to get close to the help, just like how Helios got close to Ezra.

That was good.

’Means she’s not just nice to me just because she wants me to help her,’ Ezra thought, exhaling quietly as some of that earlier tension eased just a bit.

"Our apologies if we made you wait too long, Princess Alyce. We weren’t too familiar with your customs, which is an oversight in my part," Ezra says, straightening slightly as he spoke, his tone respectful as he glanced down at Lior.

Lior was still quiet.

But he was smiling.

Completely captivated, his eyes wide as he stared at Alyce, and more specifically, her dress, like he was trying to take in every detail at once.

Alyce turns her attention back to Ezra, her expression softening.

"It is no problem at all! And not your oversight, I shouldn’t have forgotten to tell out of excitement that this is how we do things," she says, and then she offers her hand to Ezra, holding it out gently, like she was expecting him to take it.

’What?’ Ezra stares at her hand, blinking his eyes, caught off guard by the gesture, his mind briefly scrambling for what he was supposed to do.

Before he could even react—

"Are you excited for our tea party, Lior?" Alyce asks instead, her attention shifting naturally to the child beside him.

And Lior—

Without even looking at Ezra for permission—

Runs to her.

Ezra’s hand twitches slightly at his side as he watches Lior step forward, small and eager, reaching out and holding Alyce’s hand without hesitation.

Oh.

The hand was for Lior.

That was a relief.

But also—

A little uncomfortable.

’...he didn’t even hesitate,’ Ezra thought, his lips pressing together faintly as he watched the two of them, something in his chest tightening just slightly.

Alyce doesn’t seem to notice the slight shift in Ezra’s expression.

Or maybe she does, and simply chooses not to linger on it.

Instead, she gently tugs Lior’s hand, guiding him closer to her side, her movements light, natural, like she had done this a hundred times before.

"Come," Alyce says, her voice soft but bright as she turns slightly, glancing back at Ezra over her shoulder. "Let’s not stay out here. I’ll show you around before we head to tea."

The way she said it wasn’t really a request.

It was an invitation that was expected to be followed.

Ezra exhales quietly, then steps forward.

Of course, he follows.

’No point standing here,’ Ezra thought, though his eyes flicker briefly to Lior’s hand in hers before he looks away again.

Alyce leads them toward her palace, her steps slower now, more measured, though there was still that hint of excitement in the way she moved.

"This palace," Alyce begins, glancing around as if she were seeing it through their eyes, "was actually meant for the fiancée of the princes."

’That’s a well-known fact.’

Ezra’s gaze shifts to the structure ahead.

It was elegant.

Not as grand as the main palace, not overwhelming, but refined in a way that felt regal.

Something meant to be lived in.

"Though," Alyce continues, a small smile forming on her lips, "I had it painted. Pink because I love pink."

Ezra looks again.

Really looks closer this time.

"...pink?" he asks carefully, though his tone holds uncertainty.

Because to him—

It wasn’t exactly pink.

It was softer than red.

But deeper than what he imagined pink to be.

A muted, warm shade that leaned closer to light red under the sun.

Alyce lets out a small laugh. "Yes. Though I suppose it depends on how you see it."

’It definitely depends,’ Ezra thought, his brows pulling together slightly. ’That’s not pink.’

Why did he even care?

"And I had everything renovated," she adds, a hint of pride slipping into her voice now. "Especially the garden."

Lior looks up at that immediately.

"The garden?"

Alyce nods, squeezing his hand gently. "Yes. You’ll like it."

They pass through the entrance, walking further in until the space opens up—

And Ezra stops.

Not abruptly.

But enough.

Because the garden in front of them was...

Simple.

Not as grand as Helios’ secret garden, or even the king’s garden.

At first glance.

There was a gazebo in the center, white and neatly built, standing quietly like the heart of it all.

Nothing overly extravagant.

Nothing that tried too hard.

But what surrounded it—

Was something else entirely.

Rose bushes.

Everywhere.

Rows upon rows, stretching further than Ezra initially expected, filling the entire garden space in a way that felt almost overwhelming the longer he looked.

And not just any roses.

Red.

Deep red.

The kind that stood out immediately, bold against the greenery, the kind that didn’t fade into the background, no matter how many there were.

It was...a lot.

More than Ezra had ever seen in one place.

’That’s...’ Ezra didn’t even finish the thought, his gaze slowly sweeping across the garden, taking it all in.

Beside him, Lior lets out a small sound, his grip tightening slightly in Alyce’s hand.

Whoah..."

Alyce notices.

Of course she does.

Her eyes shift back to Ezra, catching the way he was staring, the way he hadn’t moved much since stepping in.

"I like red roses," Alyce says, her tone softer now, like she was sharing something personal rather than explaining.

Ezra’s gaze flickers to her.

"Prince Helios once told me..." she continues, her fingers brushing lightly over one of the nearby petals as she passes, "that my eyes reminded him of a red rose."

There’s a small pause.

A subtle one.

Like she was holding onto that memory just for a second longer than necessary.

"I’ve loved red roses ever since."

Ezra doesn’t say anything.

He just stands there.

Looking at the roses again.

Then at her.

Then away.

’And yet, she thinks he doesn’t care about her?’ Ezra thought, something tightening in his chest, sharp and familiar, settling deeper than he expected.

It wasn’t surprising.

It shouldn’t have been.

But hearing it—

Seeing it reflected in something like this—

Made it feel more real than he wanted it to be.

And for some reason—

It hurt more than he expected.