JGMH | Chapter 5

The palace’s treatment of Levis had undergone a notable transformation. No longer confined to a small, man-made pond, she now swam freely in a larger lake, wide enough for her to stretch her tail and glide from one end to the other. 

It wasn’t the sea, but it was enough to soothe her restless spirit. The waters became her solace, circling the lake her routine, and at times, she’d drift to the lake’s floor to find a measure of peace in the stillness.

Yet the unease lingered, a shadow that refused to lift. How long could this fragile reprieve last?

Rosander Wayne proved himself a competent hunter, bringing venison, rabbit, and occasionally boar for her meals. Whether it was pity or duty, he never failed to toss her something to eat. 

In his absence, Levis filled her hours observing the ever-changing skies or the creatures that flitted around her lake.

Rosander often reclined in the shade of the trees overlooking the lake, silent and distant, as though words were a luxury he could not afford her. 

Days turned into weeks, and occasionally, she caught glimpses of servants hesitantly approaching the lake’s edge.

Levis watched them—brown-haired, red-haired, golden-haired—but none held her interest. They were mere fleeting impressions, shadows passing by. 

But one day, while she was playfully nudging fish through the cool water, her attention was drawn to a figure stepping towards Rosander.

A girl, not yet fully grown, with hair as black as a raven’s wing and eyes the verdant green of summer’s lush canopy. Her noble bearing was unmistakable, her fine garments and mischievous smile revealing a life of privilege and adoration. 

Without hesitation, the girl reached for the dagger at Rosander’s belt, and Levis watched, transfixed.

“Princess, you should put that down.” 

“You’re not asleep, Ross?” 

Levis found herself biting her lip, an inexplicable tension bubbling within. The tenderness in his expression, the easy way he humored the girl—it was a side of him she’d never seen.

So, he could smile like that?

The girl was undoubtedly the queen’s daughter, and Rosander’s role as her guardian explained his gentleness. It made sense. He had no reason to show her, a creature, the same kindness. And yet, the realization left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Unable to reconcile her feelings, Levis turned away, her gaze slipping beneath the water’s surface. She sank to the lakebed, lying flat as if to sleep, but the turmoil within refused to settle. She swam in restless circles, prodding at schools of fish, unsure how to vent the strange anger simmering inside her.

A ripple disturbed the surface above, and a small stone plummeted into the depths, its pale surface stark against the dark lakebed. 

She instinctively knew it was the girl who had dropped it. Rising from her watery refuge, Levis swam upwards bubbles rippling around her fluttering tail.

Levis emerged from the surface of the water, swimming slowly toward the edge of the lake. As expected, the girl was standing there, waiting. Her gaze instinctively swept over the child’s small hands.

When she confirmed the child had come empty-handed, Levis approached the water’s edge a little closer.

“Thank you.”

The princess took the wet chess piece from Levis’ outstretched hand. The tiny hand brushing her damp palm felt like a soft tickle.

Levis glanced at Rosander, who stood observing from afar. For a fleeting moment, she considered harming the princess but quickly dismissed the thought as the girl beamed brightly at her.

“What’s your name?”

The princess spoke with the easy familiarity of someone meeting a new friend.

“Levis.”

“Lev…is?”

The child struggled to pronounce her name properly, drawing a soft laugh from Levis.

“Lev.”

She hadn’t intended to share her nickname, but something about this girl made it seem okay. 

It was a name only used among the merfolk, yet she felt oddly at ease letting her use it. After all, she was just a child—a harmless, guileless child who was hard to dislike.

“Lev, you’re pretty.”

The princess tested the name on her lips, then grinned brightly again. In response, Levis mirrored her smile, as though compelled by the kindness radiating from her.

Fiddling with the stone she’d received from Lev, the princess introduced herself.

“I’m Eisentein.”

“Eisentein.”

Perhaps worried she hadn’t made herself clear, the princess pointed to herself with her tiny hand as she repeated her name. Levis’ gaze softened at that sight.

When Levis said her name aloud, Eisentein’s face lit up in another radiant smile.

“Is Lev always here?”

Levis nodded silently. Encouraged, Eisentein began to chatter, holding up her palms as if sharing a secret.

“I come to this forest whenever I practice swordsmanship. Look at my hands—they’re all rough now from training so much. I only use wooden swords for now, but soon I’ll get to wield a real blade!” 

“How long have you been learning?”

“Not even two years yet, but I’ve improved faster than I thought!”

Just as the queen had said, the princess wasn’t exactly the quiet type. Levis pondered the possibility that the queen had spared her life for the sake of this child.

What had Rosander Wayne done after that day that allowed her to survive this long? Lost in thought, Levis barely noticed as Eisentein, who had been nodding to herself, moved closer and sat beside her.

“I want to show off how much I’ve improved, but to do that, I need to spar with someone. Like Claus! Oh, Claus is my brother—not a real brother, though…”

Levis wasn’t particularly interested in wooden swords or real blades, but she found herself wanting to keep watching Eisentein’s eyes sparkle whenever she spoke. So this is what eyes look like when they love something. Resting her chin in her palm, she quietly enjoyed the little conversation with the princess.

“I wasn’t supposed to learn swordsmanship, but Mother asked Rosander to teach me.”

Suddenly, as if recalling something, Eisentein turned and pointed toward Rosander.

“You know Ross, right?”

When the princess directly mentioned him amidst their cheerful chatter, Lev gave a strained smile.

So his nickname is Ross. Would it be rude to ignore the question? She had no better response than to keep smiling, so she let the conversation drift away without answering.

“He looked scary at first, but he’s really kind.”

“…”

“What about you, Lev?”

“…”

“Is Ross kind to you?”

Unsure of how to answer, Levis hesitated before nodding slightly.

“Princess, it’s time for your swordsmanship practice.”

The man’s silhouette appeared, reflected in the lake’s surface, though she hadn’t noticed his approach. He called the princess away, sparing Levis from having to answer further. Holding the princess’s hand, Levis watched the man’s retreating back until they disappeared. Then she turned away abruptly.

It seemed Rosander didn’t like the princess getting too close to her. That suggested the princess’s visits hadn’t been explicitly permitted by the queen. Could it be the queen had truly forgotten about her? Was that why she was able to live this way now?

Though she quickly grew fond of the child who visited to ease her boredom, she couldn’t bring herself to feel the same toward Rosander. Diving beneath the water’s surface and rising again repeatedly, Levis tried to shake off the strange feeling lingering in her chest.

It was as though the cold blade she had once tasted on her tongue still rested there, unmoving.

 

***

 

“You’re putting too much tension in your shoulders.”

Princess Eisentein shot a fierce glare at the wooden sword’s hilt as it lightly tapped her shoulder. Straightening her posture, she swung the blade toward the pillar, only for a dull vibration to travel from the wooden sword to her fingertips, signaling that the strike had glanced off its mark.

“When you strike, aim precisely at your target.”

At Rosander’s words, Eisentein tilted her head slightly before fixing her gaze on the intended impact point. Her palms, gripping the wooden sword, were slightly slick with sweat. But this time, she focused intently and swung her arm once more, targeting the exact spot.

“If you waste all your strength like that, you’ll neither land a proper blow nor injure your opponent.”

It was already the third correction she’d received. Just as Eisentein was about to excuse herself, claiming her grip had simply slipped, she noticed how unusually stern he was today.

Though Rosander was indeed diligently adjusting her posture, his tone today carried an edge, as if warning that—

“It seems your practice with a wooden sword is still insufficient. At this rate, learning with a real blade will need to be postponed.”

Half a year of effort would go to waste.

Eisentein dropped the wooden sword, her expression turning blank with shock. At this pace, she wouldn’t even catch up to, let alone defeat, that arrogant prince.

The progress she had made—barely enough to claim she could wield a sword against someone like Claus—felt laughable.

“If you’re tired, take a break.”

“No. Again!”

Seizing the moment, Eisentein pointed her wooden sword directly at Rosander. Left with no choice, he countered her thrusts with the practice sword he held, deflecting each strike with ease.

But as Rosander focused solely on his impenetrable defense, the princess quickly grew exhausted, eventually lowering her sword first.

“See? You can’t even stand properly now, can you?”

Rosander retreated to the shade of a tree and settled down. Eisentein, glancing at her escort knight who showed no intention of helping her to her feet, frowned.

“I thought you said there are no breaks in real combat?”

“This is practice. To grow stronger, you must also learn when to rest.”

The princess huffed and scampered over to where Rosander lay, plopping herself down beside him.

Judging by his casually rolled-up sleeves and unkempt hair, he lacked even a shred of the dignity one might expect of a knight.

Had she not heard tales of his valor in war, she might have outright protested her mother’s command to accept him as her instructor.

For a commoner like Rosander Wayne to serve as her escort knight—it was an insult to both herself and the queen. Who could have predicted she’d grow this comfortable around him?

Taking a moment to catch her breath beside him, Eisentein asked, “Rosander, why won’t you teach me how to wield sword aura?”

“I cannot incorporate magic into swordsmanship. Someday, Your Highness will need to seek another instructor.”

When the king, dismissive of her desire to learn swordsmanship, had reluctantly assigned Rosander Wayne to the task, he had expected the princess to abandon her efforts out of sheer frustration. Yet Rosander, as cautious as the rumors suggested, appeared more concerned about preventing her from developing bad habits than the criticism leveled against his appointment.

Still, was he not underestimating himself?

“My mother says she saw it.”

“That’s impossible.”

“She said it was green.”

“It’s not true.”

Rosander firmly denied the queen’s claim of witnessing green sword aura, as though the idea was utterly ridiculous.

Yet Eisentein persisted, bombarding her evasive escort knight with questions as he continued to divert his gaze and change the subject.

“And that’s exactly why Claus mocks you. He says my escort knight is just some sword-swinging hack, and now he’s trying to pit you against Sir Sylvain in a duel.”

“If I do face Sir Sylvain, I’ll do my best to avoid injury. Whether he agrees to such a duel is another matter entirely.”

“Are you planning to keep fighting without armor?”