The Flower Is Finished

I jolted awake as if my soul had been forcefully pulled out of a whirlpool of the past. My breath came in ragged bursts, my chest rising and falling uncontrollably, and cold sweat streamed endlessly down my forehead, dampening the base of my neck. The suffocating sensation felt disturbingly real—far too vivid for a mere dream, as though the vision I had seen was a fragment of something that had truly happened.

I turned slowly.

Farel was still lying peacefully beside me, his face calm like the surface of an untouched lake. His serenity only weighed heavier on my chest—how stark the contrast was between his tranquility and the chaos twisting inside my mind.

"Was that truly just a normal dream?" I whispered, my voice breaking.

"Then why did it feel like I was actually being hunted by a demon?"

I wiped the sweat trailing down my temple, then rose and walked toward the window. As I pulled it open, the cold night air pierced through the room, brushing against my skin like an unseen hand.

The sky was still dark, the moon hidden behind clouds as though refusing to show itself. Down below, a few guards were switching shifts. The steady rhythm of their footsteps echoed faintly across the courtyard, creating an illusion of peace that felt far too fragile.

I leaned against the window frame, observing the wide courtyard. But suddenly, a small movement caught my eye.

Someone slipped past swiftly—body lowered, steps quiet yet hurried—clearly not someone merely out for fresh air.

My brows knitted. My eyes narrowed.

"Isn't that… Princess Luvina?" I whispered, hardly believing what I was seeing.

Her gown fluttered behind her with each step. She kept glancing over her shoulder, ensuring no one was watching. Her behavior was suspicious—she looked more like someone guarding a forbidden secret than a member of the royal family.

Without hesitation, I descended from my room and followed her trail. The dim corridors of the palace felt tighter as I moved through them, as if even the walls were holding their breath to hide me.

Luvina turned into the side area of the palace, a rarely used section. That was where she stopped—and met someone.

A tall figure in a dark cloak stood before her, his entire face concealed by a full metal mask engraved with eerie patterns. Not a single piece of his skin was visible.

I crouched behind a pillar, making no sound.

I couldn't hear their conversation, but from the tension in their posture and the way they exchanged glances, it was obvious they were discussing something serious.

The masked man handed her something—a small bottle containing a thick, dark liquid. Luvina accepted it with slightly trembling hands.

Moments later, the man vanished into the darkness as though he had always belonged to it.

I watched Luvina until she hurried back into the palace.

"Who was she meeting… and what are they planning?" I murmured, feeling a mix of anxiety and burning curiosity.

---

POV Luvina

Time passed slowly, yet I remained inside the palace, observing everything and waiting patiently for the right moment. I knew exactly who he was—the one carrying the ancient flame within him. A power that was supposed to be mere legend now flowed inside someone who, in my eyes, was unworthy.

Just seeing the way he talked, walked, or looked at others was enough to make my blood boil.

I tried my best to act indifferent, keeping my expression perfectly composed. But every time he passed me without even glancing or offering a greeting—as if I was nothing more than a passing breeze—my pride shattered.

"Who does he think he is?"

"He's just a commoner. A commoner! Who happens to carry the ancient flame. Does that make him worthy of acting superior?"

My hatred grew deeper each day.

I mixed dangerous concoctions—herbs, magic, and substances obtainable only through the palace's underground channels. I placed them around my chamber, hoping that when he passed by, he would feel dizzy, nauseous, or, if luck was on my side… faint.

But every single time he walked through that hallway, he remained completely unaffected. No reaction. No weakness.

As if his body was immune to poison.

"I'll have to make it stronger…" I whispered, biting my lip.

My hatred stemmed from something far older than petty resentment.

It was a wound—ancient, raw, and unhealed.

My mother had been killed without reason. Those responsible lived comfortable lives, laughing, feasting, and sleeping peacefully. Meanwhile, I… lived in the shadow of a loss that refused to fade.

When training time arrived and Xanders was not in his room, I decided to enter. My hand had barely touched the door handle when suddenly the door swung open.

Farel stood there.

I froze, my heart pounding so loudly I was certain he could hear it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

He was like a tiny eyelash stuck in my eye—small, yet unbearably irritating.

No one in this place ever treated me like a Princess!

"I-I just wanted to invite you for a walk…" I stuttered, forcing a smile.

He raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.

"Sorry, I'm busy."

He brushed past me, not even offering a bow.

My hands balled into fists. "That little elf…"

"Should this servant take action?" my handmaid asked.

I shook my head. "Not yet."

Night fell, and the moon turned deep crimson—the peak of the ancient flame's wrath. Its red glow blanketed the palace like a veil of blood.

I sat on the balcony, examining my slender fingers as I always did when planning something. Not long after, Xanders stepped out of his chamber.

"Open his door. I want to go inside," I commanded.

My handmaid obeyed, and the moment she opened the door, Xanders suddenly dashed out with Farel close behind him. They didn't even notice me.

Perfect.

"Let's begin," I whispered.

I slipped into Xanders' room, searching for clues about the forbidden book I was told to find. I opened drawers, checked the shelves, even looked beneath the bed. Nothing.

Finally, I hid the potion—at least it would weaken him later.

As I returned to my chamber, I saw Farel rushing back with panic etched on his face. From the balcony, I spotted Xanders sprinting into the darkness and disappearing.

A smirk curled at the corner of my lips.

The game had just begun.

---

POV Xanders

That afternoon, Arvan suddenly called for an emergency meeting. We hurried into the palace hall.

"We will assist the Southern region. A severe disturbance has erupted," Arvan said. His words instantly dragged my mind back to my hometown. I glanced sideways—Farel was visibly struggling to control his emotions.

"Is that demon back?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Arvan looked at him and exhaled heavily.

"I hope you can keep your emotions in check."

Farel left the room without saying a word.

"Click-click-click… you two really are alike," Jack remarked, eyeing both of us.

"Let's prepare the troops," I said immediately.

But Arvan shook his head.

"There are casualties. Some have been taken hostage. A few escaped, but many were killed."

"Have you sent reinforcements?" I asked.

Arvan nodded. King Albert watched us silently, concern in his eyes.

"If we remain idle, they'll slaughter the entire region. What should we do?" Wiliam finally spoke.

"Do you have a plan?" the King asked.

Wiliam fell silent—unable to provide one.

The enemy had taken civilians hostage, killing them whenever they pleased. The situation was dire.

"Can you disguise yourself as one of the hostages?" Arvan asked me.

I pointed at myself. "Me?"

Arvan nodded.

"You're the only one who resembles an Elf."

"Isn't there anyone else?" I protested.

"For now, this is all we have," Arvan replied.

"And Farel?"

"He'll go as well. The two of you will rescue the hostages."

I nodded. "Understood."

"Give me one hour—we'll pinpoint the exact location soon."

We bowed and left.

I searched everywhere for Farel, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Where did that kid run off to?!" I muttered in frustration as I continued to look for him.

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