It had been less than half a month since I had left the Taren family castle and entered the imperial palace.
My mother was happy that her daughter's name was finally on the Imperial genealogy, but I simply hated being in a strange place. As Senevere's attention was focused on refurbishing the castle, my anxiety became more intense.
The imperial palace was a stark and scary place, unlike what my mother had told me. Everywhere I went, I was stared at, and my attendants were colder than the servants of the Taren family.
I felt like a child with nowhere to go. So whenever I got a chance, I sneaked out of my room and wandered around the palace.
In particular, I used to wander around the patronage often, and the garden was completely destroyed because Senevere had uprooted all the flowers and trees of the castle to erase the traces of the former Empress.
At the entrance of the main palace and the annex, rose trees and colorful shrubs began to fill the void one by one, but the backyard, which had not yet been landscaped, was littered with piles of dirt. Thanks to this, no one visited the place.
When I got tired of people's whispers or stinging eyes, I would spend my time idly in the corner of the messed-up patronage.
That day, too, I was out in the backyard of the palace to avoid my annoying nanny and the maid who poked my scalp with a sharp comb to get my hair done.
Because of the rain that started at noon, there were no workers in the garden. I squatted in a corner of an empty backyard and stared at the falling raindrops.
I wondered how long I had been doing this, but I heard a small whistling sound from somewhere.
I looked around in bewilderment for a moment, then walked towards the outskirts of the castle as if drawn by something in the pouring rain. Until this morning, there was only a deep pit in the place where the large, beautiful tree was located.
I stepped up to the side of the tall mound of dirt and looked down. A small bird was floundering in the mud, spitting out a pitiful cry.
'Did he fall from a tree?'
It seemed that there was nothing strange about the bird dying right away
Heavy raindrops were beating against his drenched brown body incessantly, and lumps of tarred mud were stickily devouring his dainty legs and shapeless wings. The constant cry of the bird turned into a faint tremor at some point.
I bent my knees and stared down at the scene, and without realizing it, I stepped into the pit.
It was a stupid thing to do. Even though I took a cautious step, the rain-soaked floor turned into a swamp and swallowed my shoes in an instant.
I twisted myself to get my foot out. Then I lost my focus and slipped into the mud.
I fell over the puddle and shook my head nervously, feeling the fishy, muddy water seep between my lips.
The nanny's new green dress was in a mess, and mud was stuck in my neatly braided hair.
I was upset and annoyed.
I pulled myself up and muttered a small curse.
You know something like a bird. You do stupid things for nothing...
Just as I was about to get out of the pit, I heard a faint cry again. It was so faint that it was hard to notice unless you listened, but to me, it sounded like a bird screaming.
I eventually took a few more steps over the black puddle. Then I saw a shabby brown wings and a limp little head submerged in muddy water.
'...Did he die?'
As I carefully picked up the young bird, I felt its little body soaked in water pulsating faintly. He was still alive.
I wrapped my hands around my lukewarm body and blew on my warm breath. The limp bird fluttered its tiny brown beak and flapped its dainty wings pathetically. He seemed to be struggling to live.
As I watched him, something tightened in my chest.
I didn't know what it was. I didn't know why it hurt me to see a young bird struggling in the mud, abandoned by its mother, resting in my hands.
I carefully wrapped the bird around it and pressed it to the hottest part of my neck. And I looked up at the steep slope made of slippery mud with my eyes blank.
The pile of dirt had become even softer due to the thickening raindrops. I took a few steps as a test, but I couldn't think I could walk up. To get out of here, I would have to crawl on all fours like an animal.
I pursed my lips. I could not abandon the little bird I had rescued, nor could I throw away my dignity as a Princess and climb in the mud like a cow.
So I stood still for a long time, basking in the pouring cold raindrops.
It was then. A boy emerged from the foggy rain.
He was very tall, wearing a black robe worn by monks, and a hood pressed against his head. But I could clearly see his pale blue eyes through the white curtain of rain. It was a very beautiful eye.
"What are you doing there?"
The blue-eyed boy bent over me and asked. It was a cold voice that didn't match his delicate face. I felt a shiver down my spine.
At the time, it was thought that it was just because of the cold. But now that I think about it, I think I had a vague premonition the moment I heard that voice. A boy with a nonchalant face looking down on me would plunge my life into hellish pain.
If I had clearly recognized the true nature of that distant sensation that day, I would have thrown the little bird from my grasp into the mud and climbed on all fours like a pig that knew neither filth nor shame.
Then I would have run away from the blue-eyed boy. Even the fact that I saw him would have been erased from my mind forever.
But eight-year-old me never dreamed that the boy who appeared out of the rain would become my despair. So I looked up at him and snapped at him in my usual barbed tone.
"Don't you know when you see it? I'm in a pit and can't climb up."
The boy's eyes narrowed. He seemed to want to ask why I had entered such a place in the first place.
But instead of asking questions, he slid into the pit where I was, unmindful that his well-tailored trousers and luxurious-looking leather boots were stained with mud.
I looked at him in surprise. I didn't expect that a boy with a cold face who didn't seem to shed a drop of blood would act like that.
He walked steadily on the muddy water that had turned into a swamp. Up close, the boy looked even more slender than when I looked up from below. He seemed to be one head taller than I.
The boy strode in front of me with his long, flexible legs and held out a hand.
"Catch It."
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