"Your mother is likely to have a difficult pregnancy. Something about her symptoms showing very bad signs," With his talons perched on the large windowsill in Irene's opulent bedroom, the cold light of the moon glistened against Snow's silvery feathers. "Her collapsing in itself is not normal, and she's also been experiencing intense pains that are unhealthy this early on."

Clenching her fists in perturbation, Irene felt a cold sweat running down her spine. She could tell from the graveness in Snow's voice, that he was telling the truth. Even once the palace ball had ended, and everyone returned to their homes for the evening, Sarah had visibly weakened throughout the day.

It was odd. The news of a baby would normally bring great joy to most families. Yet the entire ride home in the carriage, was filled with deathly silence. Sarah seemed to avoid even Rudien, actively ignoring his attempts to make her comfortable. Something must have happened when her parents were left to speak with the doctor, and that something was necessary for Irene to find out.

"Why..." Irene gazed up at the phoenix in desperation. "Why is her pregnancy not going well? Is there any cause?"

Snow lowered his beak. "The doctor didn't know either. Your father..." For a moment, he hesitated to speak. Irene could see the reluctance in those beady eyes, but the look on Irene's face urged him to tell her everything he knew. "...Your father asked if there was any way to ensure the duchess's good health. Even if it meant sacrificing the baby's life."

Eyes widening in shock, Irene felt her heart sink at those words. No wonder Mother was so upset the whole time... She must be mad at him for making such a suggestion.

Silence pervaded the room, and an ache in her chest filled Irene with anxiousness. This was truly a difficult situation, with Sarah's life, as well as the baby's on the line. If things got worse, there was a chance this safe world she managed to build would fall into ruin at the loss of the Duchess.

So even though she's pregnant, she's still in danger... And so is the baby.

Irene thought deeply for a moment, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Her gaze focused on the hem of her white nightgown, two slim white feet poking out and basking in the moon's glow. Snow observed her clinically for a long moment, silently watching over her as though she was about to cry. She noticed his obvious concern for her, but figured he must have felt bad for her family situation.

In reality, the phoenix grew evermore perturbed by the bright golden light inside her slim figure, visible only to him. A dangerously blinding glow, which could erupt at any moment. The mana in her body is reaching its peak... Snow thought, his feathers stiffening. The time is coming, River. You better have located that summoner stone.

"Is there anything you could do with your powers to help her?" Gazing up at Snow, a hopeful look washed over her face. But the bird could only shake his head slowly.

"Sorry, Sprout. Though I am among the higher spirits, I'm of the defensive class. My abilities only protects from external harm," Snow sighed softly, and it was unusual even for him to seem at a loss. "What you're looking for is a healing class spirit."

Irene frowned, laying back on her bed with her arms extended out against the plush duvet. Her body sank into the mattress, eyes glued to the ornate plaster ceiling. If only I could get my hands on another spirit... But even then, it's a matter of chance whether or not they're able to heal.

Among the spirits, there existed four specialised classes. Offensive spirits were rare and the most powerful kind, their bodies prepared with high prowess in combat and sheer might. This was the class Isabella's spirit was supposed to be in the original novel.

Defensive spirits, like Snow, had the ability to protect anyone from harm. They often marked the people they wanted to keep safe and would cast a shield, which would stop any external attack from landing. Whether it was protection against magic or a physical weapon, the people marked would be safe. Defensive spirits were also often called "Guardian Angels" in the old legends.

Healing spirits, though abundant, were often weak compared to the others. They had little power and most could only heal minor wounds, but in some rare instances, one with enough power, could tackle internal problems within a wounded body. If Irene could get even a small spirit like this, albeit weak, perhaps it could help Sarah in some way.

The last class, were the divine spirits. These were spirits who had abilities in more than one class, having existed for millennia and grown stronger with every summoner they obeyed. Divine spirits were near impossible to find, much less form a contract with. Information on them could be found only in legends, and not many believed they existed anymore.

No one has mentioned divine spirits since the First Saintess' days. But those were thousands of years ago... Irene sighed. If only I could catch one. I'd be able to protect Mother.

The next day, having not slept much, Irene decided to head out into the training grounds for some practise. It had been a while since she took up the sword, and though she wasn't as great as the average Cherliann knight in fighting, the stamina put into all the physical work would help ease her mind a little.

Golden rays of sunlight barely just peeped over the horizons as dawn began to settle into the morning. The sky was clear, fleeting starlight soon disappearing from the light of day. Birds could be heard singing from their distant homes in the foliage and trees, and as Irene entered the knight's ground, fully clothed in her training clothes, she was unsurprised to see a handful of familiar faces sparring at this time.

Diligent as always. She smiled, admiring how fervently the soldiers trained even without Rudien's guidance.

A certain red-haired woman caught a glimpse of the approaching Irene, and a smile instantly washed over her face. "My Lady! Are you here for some morning training?"

Nasriel waved an arm out, before hurrying toward her. All the other knights seemed to grow excited at the appearance of Cherliann's princess as well, soon crowding her as they often did. Luckily there were only a few of them at the moment.

"It's been a while since I've had any practise," Irene smiled sheepishly. "I'm not the best, but I would like to keep up my skills so I don't go rusty."

"Ah, no worries, Milady!" One of the boisterous male knights slapped his chest with pride. "You don't have to worry about a thing. We would lay down our lives to protect you, so you don't have to fight at all!"

Nasriel sighed, slapping the knight at the back of his head. He whined from the sudden hit. "Oww— what was that for?!"

"Don't undermine the Princess's abilities, moron. She works really hard to improve."

Irene smiled, always happy by Nasriel's support. It was her who initially taught Irene the basics on how to wield a sword, because learning from Rudien or even Rayvis directly was far too difficult- and dangerous to even consider. The last four years she spent training with Nasriel were definitely hard, but enjoyable all the same.

Although Irene wasn't as capable with the sword as she wished, having lost all of her training matches and making blunders in many ways, she realised sword-fighting was not a strength of hers. Still, she was learning under the direct tutelage of the Cherliann duchy. Even if she sucked, her skills probably equaled to an average swordsman anywhere else - at least.

"Would you spar with me, Nasriel?" Irene suggested, taking up a training sword from one of the nearby barrels. The crimson-haired knight smiled proudly.

"Are you sure, My Lady? I'm feeling especially motivated today."

"There's no need for that," A familiar voice suddenly proclaimed from behind, and Irene whirled on her heel to see a pair of royal-blue eyes staring at her. "Irene will be training with me."

"M-Mikael?"

Taking a step back in bewilderment, Irene blinked at the blonde in front of her. His visage remained expressionless as always, but the way he watched her with a judging gaze instantly filled her with dread.

"It's been a while since you've stepped foot here," The second prince crossed his arms, his slender figure leaning toward her. "I'd like to see just how good you've gotten since last time."

Crap... Of all people, he's the last person I want to spar with...

But alas, as much as Irene wished she could worm her way out of this situation, she couldn't say no to the intimidating Mikael. Even the other knights gazed at her in pity, praying that he wouldn't go too hard on her. "Good luck, My Lady!" Nasriel cheered quietly, pumping a fist. "Do your best!"

Irene only responded with a hard gulp and slow nod. The wooden sword in her hands felt rough and cold, but she attempted to quell her fears as Mikael led her to an empty open space.

Knees quivering from the blonde's murderous presence, his unwavering glare as he took stance caused shivers to run down her spine. Steady, focused, ready.

With ease, Mikael lunged forward — striking Irene with a swift blow.

She barely managed to clash swords- unable to keep up with his speed and power. Mustering great effort, Irene pushed forward - quickly parrying as fast as her body could manage.

Seconds later, the sword in her hand was gone, and her back had crashed to the ground with a thud.

What?!

Irene gaped up at Mikael in awe. His body hovered on top of hers, pinning her to the dirt floor with a wooden blade at her neck. Icy blue eyes fixed on her like daggers of frost piercing into her skin. And several metres away, her own practice sword collapsed to the floor with a loud clank.

What just happened? She was sure she just attacked him. How was it possible for him to send her sword flying and immobilise her within a millisecond?

"If this were a real battle, you'd be dead." He told her, peering closely into her face with deadly seriousness - his voice low and hoarse. Irene swallowed, cheeks slightly growing hot from embarrassment. This is why I hate sparring with him...

Even so, her competitive side quickly took over — a wave of refusal to accept yet another humiliating defeat at Mikael's hands somehow fired her up. If I give up here, I'll ruin my image as the daughter of Rudien Cherliann.

Irene narrowed her brows, golden eyes flaring with determination. "Again!" She shouted, standing up as Mikael got off of her.

If I give up now, he'll give me hell later...

Mikael's lips curled up into a slight smile, a subtle hint of amusement in his clear eyes. Something about overwhelming Irene when she felt motivated to fight back, filled him with excitement.

And so, the two continued to spar for what seemed like hours. Irene had fallen back so many times, her rear end turned numb. Even so, she continued to fight a futile battle against the fearfully strong second prince.

His blows were swift, immediate, and strong. Mikael's movements were extremely agile, so much so she could hardly see which direction his next attack would come from. Even though the pair trained together for years now — it was obvious Irene had little to no prowess in sword fighting, compared to the monsters raised by the Cherliann duchy.

Which was ironic, since she had the Duke's blood in her veins.

"That's enough, you two."

Both Irene and Mikael turned in surprise at Rudien's words, neither having realised he had been standing there for a while now. His silver hair seemed unkempt, and there were thick bags hanging below his perfect scarlet eyes.

From the looks of it, the duke was definitely hungover. Irene blinked at him in awe, having never seen her father in such a state before. Even the other knights were wide-eyed as they witnessed this rare side of their perfect leader.

But then what shocked Irene even more, were the two figures stood behind him.

"Your Grace, you should really rest," Isabella frowned, staring up at Rudien with hazel eyes glazed in concern. She rummaged through the elegantly woven basket in her hands, pulling out a tin canister. "I have some chamomile tea here that may help. It was meant for Irene, but there is plenty if you'd like a cup."

"Thank you, Isabella," Rudien smiled as nicely as he could, but his expression remained stoic as always. "I am fine. Please don't worry about me and enjoy your time with Irene."

Standing silently beside them, was a tall, ebony-haired young man who Irene was shocked to see most. Daniel's presence seemed to catch the attention of the soldiers too, who gazed at him in admiration. Irene only felt her heart race in confusion. What's he doing here?! The ball only ended yesterday, shouldn't he be busy at the palace?

"Who's that? Is he a new addition to the squad?" One of the knights asked another, bringing Irene out of her thoughts. Of course, they hadn't met or ever seen the first prince before, so it made sense they didn't know him.

"I'm not sure. He's crazy handsome though."

"Right? I wonder if I can ever achieve that level."

"In your dreams, idiot."

As Irene suppressed the urge to chuckle at the knights' interaction, Isabella hurried towards her with a look of obvious concern. "Is your father alright? This is the first time I've ever seen him look so..."

"Out of it?" Irene smiled sheepishly, glancing back at Rudien. Mikael had gone over to where he and Daniel stood, and they seemed to be talking about some things.

"Did something happen?" Isabella asked in regard to Rudien's state — but Irene's lips pressed into a straight line as she remembered her mother's condition. Not to mention, things between the two were probably sour since Sarah was definitely still mad at Rudien.

It was very much unlike the duke to drink until he dropped at the dead of night. This was definitely the strongest, most personal hurdle he'd have to face when it came to his family.

This went for Irene and Rayvis too. Losing their mother would change the shape of the family entirely, if that were to happen.

"I'll tell you later," Irene sighed, noticing the basket in her friend's hands. A sweet smell radiated from it, and she could already tell Isabella likely came with treats for the two to share. Then, it struck her. "Come to think of it, how did you end up arriving with my father and the crown prince? Isn't that an unlikely trio?"

The brunette chuckled softly. "It just happened. I was on my way to find you and ran into them."

"Hmm," Irene glanced back at Daniel, who was silent the whole time as he stood beside Rudien. "I see..."

Come to think of it... That means he and Isabella had some opportunity to talk.

I should ask her if he said anything later.

"I would join you for tea now, but I'm all sweaty from training," Setting her wooden sword down, Irene could feel her clothes sticking to her body. It was a rather hot day, which made her feel even more stuffy. "I'm going to have a bath first. You can come and sit with me as I wash, if you like. I'd rather not leave you waiting somewhere."

Isabella lifted a hand up to her lips, giggling. "Oh my. I'm going to be seeing my precious Irene completely undressed? Lucky me~"

Just as the two were about to take their leave, Irene decided to go and speak with her father, since she was concerned for him. But it seemed he was in the middle of announcing something to his knights.

"This young man is the current Crown Prince, Daniel Carsius Laydel. Despite his royal standing, treat him as you would any other knight," He instructed. Those words elicited hushed whispers of awe among the knights. "He will be under my tutelage for a few years leading up to his ascension to the throne."

What...?

Then that means...

Irene froze, her gaze glued to both Rudien and Daniel upon hearing that declaration.

...I'm going to be seeing him more often than I thought.

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