In the gardens of Taymer Palace, the early morning sun filtered through lush, ivy-covered trellises, casting dappled, dancing flecks of gold onto the gravel paths.

A gazebo deep within the gardens was encircled by meticulously pruned rose bushes, filling the air with a sweet, floral fragrance.

Eleanor sat on a white marble bench in the center of the gazebo, her small frame nearly disappearing against its back.

She wore a long dress of light blue fine linen, the collar and cuffs exquisitely embroidered with a two-headed eagle crest in silver thread.

It was the symbol of the Temeris Clan: one eagle head facing left and the other right, their gazes sharp and their wings spread wide.

Her thick, jet-black hair was loosely tied back with a silver-gray silk ribbon, a few strands falling against the pale skin of her neck.

A heavy, ancient tome lay open on her lap, its parchment pages glowing with a soft, yellowed hue.

It was the *Selos Naturalist Association Monster Files*, a compendium of the myriad bizarre creatures of the Otherworld, from known planes to hidden corners. From the phantom worms of the Whispering Marsh to the Fire Salamander Lord of the Molten Abyss, its pages were filled with both text and illustrations, the brushwork conveying a scholar’s characteristic rigor and a secret fanaticism.

The five-year-old Little Princess read with intense focus, her night-black eyes scanning the ancient, mysterious accounts line by line. Occasionally, she would extend a slender fingertip to gently trace the twisted tentacles of a many-eyed creature in an illustration, as if feeling a texture that wasn’t there.

WHOOSH!

A morning breeze swept by, flipping a corner of the book’s page.

Eleanor raised a small hand to hold it down.

Just then, she suddenly looked up without any warning, her gaze shifting from the page toward the garden entrance.

"Father should be here," she said softly, her voice as crisp as a spring breeze from the South.

The young Maid standing guard outside the gazebo was slightly taken aback by her words.

Her name was Leia, an attendant assigned exclusively to Eleanor. She was around eighteen years old, her brown hair was impeccably styled, and she wore the standard court maid’s uniform.

She knew, of course, that the "Father" Eleanor mentioned was Lord Melfield, who had a special relationship with the Lord Duke. However, she had no definite news regarding the lord’s specific itinerary.

"Young Miss," Leia hurried into the gazebo, bowed, and replied softly, "Regarding Lord Melfield’s travels... I have not received any official notification. The journey to and from the Northern Territory is long, and by normal estimates, he should still be some time away."

She paused, her tone becoming more tactful. "Why don’t you have some refreshments first? Perhaps his lordship will arrive a little later."

Eleanor did not immediately refute her.

She closed the book on her lap, her small hand tracing the gilt pattern on its leather cover. Her long, thick eyelashes were lowered, casting a faint shadow on her eyelids.

After a moment, she lifted her face, looked at Leia, and gently shook her head.

"No," she said, her voice still soft but unmistakably clear. "Not later. Now."

Leia blinked in confusion.

She looked toward the garden entrance again. Only the upright figures of the Guards were there, their armor gleaming in the morning light. From the direction of the distant palace, the faint toll of a bell marked the start of a new hour. Otherwise, there was no unusual activity.

There were no hoofbeats from an advance messenger, no hurried figures of Attendants. Everything was as calm as usual.

"Young Miss," Leia began, choosing her words carefully in a gentler attempt to soothe her, "perhaps his lordship was slightly delayed on the road, or perhaps..."

She couldn’t finish her sentence.

Because Eleanor had already placed the ancient tome gently beside her and slid off the bench.

The hem of her light blue dress brushed against the marble seat. She straightened her small body, her gaze still locked on the garden entrance. Her night-black eyes shimmered with a light that Leia could not fully comprehend.

"I heard it," Eleanor said suddenly.

"Heard...?" Leia repeated reflexively, then held her breath to listen intently.

The garden was quiet, with only the rustle of the wind through the rose bushes, the faint sound of a distant fountain, and the muffled noises of palace life from even farther away.

She strained her ears but couldn’t catch any unusual sound.

Eleanor didn’t explain what "it" was that she had heard.

She simply raised a hand to tuck a wind-tousled strand of black hair behind her ear.

Then she turned to Leia. "Go and prepare the refreshments, Leia," the Little Princess said gently. "The kind of Snowflower Tea that Father likes, and honey scones. Remember to set the tea service on the small round table on the west side; the view is best from there."

Leia didn’t hesitate this time, but her confusion deepened.

Snowflower Tea was a specialty of the Northern Territory. Lord Melfield was from the Monte Territory, so it was logical that he would favor this tea.

And the Small White Jade Round Table on the west side faced the most open stretch of lawn in the garden, offering an excellent view.

Eleanor’s instructions were specific and clear, as if she were certain the guest would need them at any moment.

She bowed and replied, "Yes, Young Miss. I will go and prepare them now."

At the garden entrance, the figures of the Guards suddenly moved.

They turned inward in unison, their right hands moving as one to their Chest Armor, performing a standard court Spear-Holding Ceremony.

The next moment, a tall, slender figure appeared beneath the wisteria-covered archway.

The newcomer was dressed in the dark blue daily attire of a Knight, a simple scabbard at his waist. His gait was composed and steady.

The rising sun had just crested the spire of the eastern palace, outlining his silhouette, as upright as a pine.

He stepped into the garden, his gaze barely pausing before it landed accurately on the gazebo, as if he already knew exactly where to look.

Leia’s breath caught.

’He really... arrived?’

Murphy’s gaze met the small, blue figure in the gazebo.