“Um… okay.” Seeing Ilya so serious, Flora carefully extended her hand. It had been a long time since she had seen Ilya so earnest.
Ilya leaned forward slightly, taking Flora’s hand. Flora felt the cool temperature of her fingertips and the steady, gentle pressure.
Ilya lowered her eyes with a focused expression, as if this wasn’t just a simple act of putting on a piece of jewelry.
“It will make you… more stable.” Ilya’s voice was even softer than before, sounding like an explanation yet also like she was talking to herself.
She gently held Flora’s finger, aligned the ring, and pushed it into place. The ring sat firmly on her finger.
Ilya let go of her hand but didn’t stand up immediately. Her gaze remained on Flora’s hand, as if confirming the stability of that invisible connection.
“There, that’s better. How does it feel?” Ilya looked up at Flora with a gentle tone.
Flora instinctively curled her fingers. She felt a gentle warmth spreading from the ring at her fingertip — a warmth that followed her like a shadow.
It dispelled the remaining chill in her body, making her feel comfortable and relaxed.
She looked up and met Ilya’s gaze, which was just inches away. At that moment, the usual majesty in Ilya’s eyes had faded, replaced by an indescribable focus and… care.
“Yes, it’s very comfortable,” Flora whispered.
“That’s good.”
“Also, remember — for now, I am Alison Fran.” Ilya looked at her, her voice clear and firm. “And you are Flora Fran. Remember and respond to those names until we return.”
“Yes.”
Flora repeated the name silently in her mind. ‘This name requires almost no adjustment, as the pronunciation is nearly identical to my own.’
This was the protection — the disguise — that Ilya… that her mother had given her.
“Yes, Mother,” she said softly.
Ilya nodded, a flash of something like satisfaction appearing in her eyes.
Just then, Lena appeared silently at the door. She bowed slightly and said, “Your Majesty, Your Highness, everything is ready.”
“Very well, it’s time to go.”
There was no grand send-off or noisy farewell. Just the two of them walking through the silent castle corridors toward a side door.
The heavy wooden door slid open soundlessly, and damp, cold mist immediately rushed in, carrying the scent of earth and roots.
A black carriage that looked quite ordinary, perhaps even a bit old, was parked outside, pulled by two equally unremarkable black horses.
But Flora could feel that whether it was the faint flow of patterns on the wood or the calm in the horses’ eyes, everything indicated this “ordinary carriage” was anything but.
Lena efficiently placed the two suitcases on the luggage rack behind the carriage, then stepped aside and bowed deeply. “I wish you both a safe journey.”
Ilya nodded and was the first to step into the carriage. Flora followed behind her.
Before ducking inside, she couldn’t help but look back one last time at Lena and the castle. That place had been almost her entire world for the past few months.
Subsequently, she leaned down and entered the carriage.
The interior was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside.
The floor was covered with a thick, dark carpet, and there were soft seats on both sides with a small table fixed in the middle. Heavy curtains hung over the windows, currently pulled open.
Ilya sat across from her. Once the door closed, the carriage started smoothly and drove into the forest without any command.
At first, Flora leaned against the window and watched quietly. Today, the forest was shrouded in mist, making it exceptionally peaceful.
Sometimes the mist was thick enough to hide everything, and other times it thinned out. If the old ‘Owen’ had seen this, he would have found it eerie, but the current Flora felt a touch of gentle familiarity.
Shadows of various lengths flickered past the window — ancient towering trees, lushly growing plants of all kinds, and some peculiar flowers and herbs.
These sights, which once filled her with wonder or fear, were now covered in a faint, almost nostalgic hue.
She was truly leaving this place for a while, heading to that human world that felt both familiar and somewhat strange.
Ilya seemed to be resting with her eyes closed, but Flora knew she was awake. The steady, enveloping warmth coming through the ring was always there, so strong it felt like she was being held close.
The carriage seemed to pass through an invisible boundary. The mist outside suddenly thinned, no longer possessing that thick quality.
When a rolling field of hills came into view, dotted with ordinary oak trees and bushes, Flora looked at the scenery and couldn’t help but think of the human territory — the vast plains, fields, villages, and scattered small farmhouses.
These sights should have been common, yet now they felt somewhat foreign.
She had grown accustomed to life in the castle and rarely ventured far; everything she saw daily was filled with mana, mystery, and a grand, majestic atmosphere.
Now, everything before her was becoming “normal”: plains, groves, occasional simple road signs, and villages in the distance.
The scent in the air changed as well — the subtle magic aura had almost vanished, replaced by the purer scent of plants and soil, and even the faint smell of livestock.
An indescribable feeling seized Flora.
It wasn’t excitement or sadness, but more like a… dazed sense of detachment.
Two different views: one belonged to the old ‘Owen’, and the other belonged to her current self. In this moment, she felt as if she were a third entity caught between the two.
Flora instinctively turned the ring on her finger. The warm connection immediately became clearer, gently pulling her back from her drifting thoughts.
“What are you looking at?” Ilya opened her eyes at some point, her calm gaze falling on Flora’s face.
Flora snapped back to reality and pointed at a hillside covered in white wildflowers that had just passed by the window. “Those flowers… they look very pretty.”
“Yes, they are very common wildflowers. They have strong vitality, but they are nothing special.” Ilya glanced out the window, her tone flat.
Flora lowered her head, quietly pondering those words. ‘Strong vitality, but nothing special…’ It seemed she wasn’t just talking about the white flowers.
The carriage continued forward. The sun had fully risen, painting the early autumn fields in a faint golden hue. Mountains layered in the distance, and the azure sky was dotted with soft white clouds.
Flora’s thoughts, much like the gradually clearing scenery, slowly began to settle.
Right now, she didn’t need to think too much, and perhaps neither did Ilya. At this moment, they were just a mother and daughter out on a trip, an ordinary mother and daughter.
She could just look at the scenery, think about the flowers, feel the fresh air, and then go see the person she wanted to see.