Threshold Crossing Feast

“Anyway, fighting is bad, so please stop~”

Neronaua glided leisurely in the sky.

The divine beast, albeit an illusion, managed to quell the fracas among the five island chiefs, and in the process, thwarted an unprecedented disaster that Lorenz threatened to set off. The snowstorm abated, but everyone remained guarded.

Iorwerth scoffed at Lorenz, “You never change. Do you intend to continue where you left off and finish us all this time?” Despite his barbed words, his voice lacked its usual edge.

‘What is he talking about…? No, more importantly, why does he keep provoking him?!’

“It need not end that way again,” Yusuf spoke to Lorenz next. Beneath his stoic demeanor, a look of weary distress surfaced. “Trust me. We, too, knew naught of the matter.”

Fonseca bristled, “You are also culpable for concealing it from us! We have all borne the consequences. Ecilia deserves to pummel you for that death-dealing stunt.”

“I have never blamed you for my affliction, Lorenz,” Ercilia sighed. “From the day the gods chose us, we are bound to wager our very lives in service of their will.”

“ACHOOO!”

Aya and the winged serpent sneezed, snatching back their attention. She was cold, and her hands were numb, but she wanted to listen more. It was just getting interesting, too.

”Sorry, sorry! Don't mind me!”

Lorenz moved, and at once, the others snapped to attention.

They watched him with restless caution, as though he's an untamed animal, but when he looked down at Aya, she felt nothing like prey before a predator. All she saw was a man burdened by grief and sorrow. The sight struck a sharp pang through her chest.

‘Lord Lorenz… He wouldn't do this for no reason. I wish I could help, but… He doesn't tell me anything.’

Still, Aya could try.

She’d been through this before with Calixtus. To ask even when she wouldn't get an answer could be her way of caring. Then again, Lorenz had done much more for her. It's the least she could do in return. No matter what he’d gone through, she'd always be by his side.

‘Okay, here he comes... Wait, he's coming?!’

Lorenz landed in front of Aya, wisps of snow drifting behind him.

She sneezed again, now unbearably cold. From the sky, the illusion of the divine beast vanished. Ecilia and the rest headed back down. However, they maintained their distance. Drystan and the others also moved away.

“You should not be out here.”

Lorenz slipped off his coat and gently wrapped it around Aya. As he did, she observed him closely. All the anger was gone. There was only sadness left. More than seeking answers to her questions, at this moment, she hoped to cheer him up even for a bit.

“Because a lady shouldn’t wander at night?”

His hands paused. She'd repeated the same words he'd told her during their first meeting at the Primer Beacon in Anonas. She meant to lighten the mood, yet instead, his expression collapsed into despair. Her heart sank.

“Because it is cold,” he said in a small, brittle voice. “You will get sick.”

“Lorenz.”

A familiar voice echoed across the palace gardens. Everyone turned in surprise towards the ruler of the kingdom.

Gallahan came, accompanied by their entourages.

Among them were the servants at the banquet hall earlier. He must’ve arrived a while ago to dismiss the palace staff from their posts, including their retainers. Only the king could command them apart from their lieges. Yet, against such absolute authority, Lorenz neither replied nor looked.

“Follow me, Lorenz.”

His head shifted by the slightest degree, though it appeared less like he was finally paying attention. If anything, she thought he's trying to hide his face from her. He now exuded an oppressive aura while murderous fury smoldered in his eyes. Seeing this, she nearly backed away.

“Do you truly wish to show that side to her?”

His breath hitched, and he suppressed a tremor. Finally, he turned to Gallahan. They stared each other down—two formidable forces that could bright about the world's ruin. Eventually, Lorenz glanced back at her.

“It is late. Have a good night, Hiraya.”

“Ah, yes… G-Good night, Lord Lorenz…”

They bade each other farewell, but whatever had transpired under the winter sky tonight, Aya had a feeling it wouldn’t be merely buried by the falling snow.

---

Burning cedar and pine clung to the air, mingling with the fragrance of winter blossoms woven into elaborate garlands that decorated the walls of the Royal Palace.

Bells began to toll. ‘Is it time already?’ Aya closed the novel she was reading and looked outside the window. ‘The new year is almost here.’

Beyond, snow had enveloped the courtyard in an all-encompassing white. Nobles arrived in heavy layers of clothing beneath finely embroidered mantles, with jewels that caught the candlelight like icicles under the pale, weak sun. Aya dreaded performing before such a large audience in this cold weather. Lamentably, this was what all the preparations from the past couple of months were for.

At last, it was the Threshold Crossing Feast.

From the name itself, “crossing” from one “threshold” to another represented the transition of entering a new year. Held annually, it was a solemn event attended by nobility from all over the country. The royal family would lead the sacred rituals alongside the temple, as per tradition.

After the ceremonial rites, the Divine Vessels would dedicate a song-and-dance routine called the Heralding.

“Being royalty sure is tough,” Aya mused out loud. “What do you mean you have to be able to sing and dance, too?”

“Tell me about it.”

Startled, she spun around to find, “Calix?!”

“Yes, Aya?”

“Since when did you…?”

“Lady Romina allowed me inside.”

Calixtus was as carefree as ever, it seemed.

After being abducted by the head of House Oulixeus, who had gone into hiding and was yet to be captured, he had returned to Ruxandrion Isle to recuperate. Last she saw him was in late autumn, which wasn't that long ago. Yet for some reason, she sensed something different about him.

“Did you get taller?” Aya examined Calixtus from head to toe with an inquisitive gaze.

“And more dashing? I’d like to think so.”

“Well...” Ignoring the smug airs he's giving off, she appraised his outfit for the occasion. “You do look charming.”

“...Oh.” A beat of silence passed, then she noticed his cheeks turning red. “You think I’m charming?”

“Would you rather I say dashing too?"

“I imagined you would tell me something similar to “a hero doesn't call himself a hero just to appear cool,” or whatever it was you told me that one time.”

“That takes me back! I was locked up then, and you were sneaking around, and I… I hope you don't do that anymore.” She deflated, her expression dimming. “You don't have to anymore, do you? The missions. The training.”

His eyes widened a touch, then he smiled. “I'll be honest. I don't intend to quit,” he admitted, earning a look of exasperated disbelief from her, but he added, “I’ll be careful moving forward, I promise! It's just…easier this way. I’ll still be able to protect everyone, including you.”

He fixed a grave stare on her before she could respond. “You see, Aya, I remember Lord Chrysander mentioning the Threshold Crossing Feast.” Her stomach dropped at his words. “I'm not sure, but he might show up at some point, so I'm warning you.”

As if her turmoil from last night weren’t enough, here’s yet another to plague her mind. 

Truthfully, the tumultuous banquet had left her with lingering unease. There were too many secrets, too many words still unspoken. She couldn’t even bring herself to partake in the festivity, not while Lorenz and the rest of the royal family kept weighing on her thoughts.

Worst of all, there’s little Aya could do but wait around.

“Now, you understand. Rather than worrying about me…” Suddenly, Calixtus reached for one of her hands and pressed a soft, warm kiss on its back. “...You should worry more about yourself.”

“...”

“Rest assured, however. I shall see to it that no harm comes to Your Highness.”

“...”

Her mind had blanked out.

Calixtus soon took his leave, and in that state of stupor, Aya thought of that particular scene she'd read from a romance novel—of a gentleman kissing a lady's hand. She knew he seemed different. He treated her the same, but also not. Every word and action felt more deliberate, more earnest than before.

‘He became cheekier, apparently!’ she concluded—mystery solved.

“Princess.” Romina and Cassian approached along with Shade, who had recently returned from another period of seclusion. “We have been informed of the situation. It would be prudent to heed it and tread carefully.”

Somehow, it's like the crowning ceremony all over.

She's a target. She couldn't run. Having been placed in peril time and time again, she felt as though she’d learned to survive in this life far more than she'd learned to thrive as the person she's expected to become. 

It's never by choice either. Somewhere along striving to be the princess she aspired to be, she found herself navigating the dangers lurking in the palace. In the end, nothing changed—not the fear of making a mistake, nor the desperation to do things right. Even as she kept enduring in such a world, she had yet to truly know how to belong in it.

And perhaps, it would stay that way for a while longer.

“It's not confirmed, and nothing might happen, but… Do you suppose I should use that illusion again?”