Chapter 10

Drakenburg was alive with its usual chaos — carriages rattling over cobblestone, merchants shouting over each other, and the faint hum of dragons roosting on distant rooftops. For Lucien, it was supposed to be a simple trip. Pick up supplies. Deliver them back to the village. Avoid trouble. "Three things," he told himself. "Just three."

He adjusted the strap of his pack and navigated the crowded market, mentally ticking items off a list Fifi had practically nailed to his forehead. Spices, salt, fresh meat, crisp vegetables. All the thinks Lulu loves to eat.

Still, he couldn't shake the image of Lulu's pout from the day Kagura left. The poor girl had sulked for two days straight; declaring it wasn't jealousy, of course, just "an intellectual disagreement with Lucien's poor taste in company."

He smiled faintly at the memory. Maybe he owed her something nice. Something to make her feel like she's important to him.

As he rounded the next corner, something bright caught his eye—a cluster of colorful posters plastered across a wall. An elegant elf woman with flowing gold hair and a shimmering idol dress smiled back from the paper, surrounded by a halo of silver runes.

"Lina Evergreen: Live in Concert! Two Nights Only — Drakenburg Grand Amphitheater."

Lucien blinked. "Lina… the elf idol?" He'd heard her songs on the radio crystals that sometimes drifted through the village tavern—sparkling, otherworldly melodies that made even the roughest dwarves hum under their breath.

A small crowd of admirers was already gathered by the posters, gushing about her upcoming performance:

"Front-row seats are already sold out!"

"I heard her last show made even the stoic city guards cry!"

"Her idol dress glimmers in seven different shades of moonlight—

Lucien wasn't sure about the elf idol, as pop music wasn't his favotite music genre. Still, the idea sparked something in him.

"A concert, huh?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, already picturing Lulu's reaction. The wide eyes, the over-the-top enthusiasm, the way she'd probably end up embarrassing him in front of a thousand people.

And yet… it felt right. After everything; the chaos, the teasing, the soda incident—maybe this could be their way to start fresh. A proper date.

He folded his arms and grinned to himself. "Alright, Princess. Let's see you turn down an elf idol concert with your favorite elder."

Lucien returned to the village just as the evening sun painted the cottages gold. The air was alive with the smell of baking bread and the sound of Cupcake's occasional meow echoing through the square. He'd been on the road all day, and yet the sight of the familiar rooftops, and one particularly eccentric princess, made the journey worth it.

He found Lulu sitting by the well, humming to herself as the elf bard Reir used her magic lute to make little bubbles of light drift lazily around Lulu. Fifi stood nearby, arms crossed, keeping a watchful eye as though each bubble might explode into chaos at any moment.

When Lucien approached, Lulu perked up immediately. "Lucien! You're back! Did you bring anything fun?"

He grinned, holding up two small tickets that shimmered faintly in the light. "Actually, yeah. How do you feel about music?"

Her eyes widened. "Music? Don't tell me—"

He handed her a ticket. "Lina Evergreen. Live in concert. Two days from now."

Lulu gasped so loudly that Cupcake darted for cover. "Lina?! The elf idol Lina?! The Lina whose voice can make flowers bloom and broken hearts heal?!"

Lucien chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "That's the one. I thought it might be… nice."

Her excitement froze midair. "Wait. Who else is coming?"

"Nobody," he said with a small shrug. "It's a date. Just you and me."

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to stop. Even the bubbles of light froze in place. Lulu's cheeks flushed pink, then crimson, then a shade that could only be described as 'emotional meltdown'.

"A—a date?" she stammered. "You mean like a real date?"

Lucien smiled softly. "I don't see why not."

Before she could stop herself, Lulu let out a squeal of joy and threw her arms around him. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

It took her about three seconds to realize what she was doing. Her eyes widened, and she jumped back so fast she nearly tripped over her own skirt. "I—uh—I mean, splendid! A formal outing between the princess and her knight! Entirely proper!"

Lucien raised a brow, amused. "Right. Entirely proper."

She smoothed her hair, cleared her throat, and tried to act composed, though her smile betrayed her. "W-well then, I should, um, start preparing for our—our mission! Yes, very important preparations to make!"

With that, she bolted toward the house, muttering under her breath about dresses, perfume, and 'the perfect royal sparkle'.

Lucien watched her go, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. "Three hours," he murmured. "I give her three hours before she's torn the entire wardrobe apart." Inside, Lulu had already proven him right.

Lulu's room looked as though a tornado had formed out of lace and glitter. Dresses of every color were draped over furniture, ribbons hung from the chandelier like festive streamers, and poor Cupcake sat on the bed with a bow tied around her tail, looking unimpressed with the entire ordeal.

"No, no, no!" Lulu groaned, tossing aside a golden gown that would've made a queen weep. "Too regal. I don't want him to think I'm trying too hard."

Cupcake meowed in quiet judgment.

"I am not trying too hard!" she protested, pointing an accusing finger at her cat. "I'm simply… putting forth an appropriate level of effort for a royal romantic engagement!"

Cupcake blinked. Lulu sighed and sat down beside her feline critic. "You're right. I'm doomed!"

At that moment, there was a polite knock on the door. "Princess? Are you—ah—still alive in there?" Fifi's voice called.

"Barely!"

Fifi pushed open the door, took one look at the disaster, and froze. "…Goodness. Did a dragon sneeze glitter in here?"

Lulu pointed dramatically toward the wardrobe. "Help me. I need something that says 'mature elegance' but also 'I'm fun and approachable.'"

Fifi folded her arms. "You mean you want to look like someone Lucien would actually recognize after the first five seconds."

Lulu puffed her cheeks. "You're not helping."

Fifi sighed, rolling up her sleeves. "Fine. Let's start simple. No tiaras, no feathers, and no twelve-foot train. Try something… normal."

Lulu blinked. "Normal? That sounds terrifying."

And so, Fifi set to work on what quickly became one of her most difficult challenges yet: making Lulu look less like a dazzling princess attending a royal ceremony and more like an ordinary young woman going on a date. One gown after another emerged from Lulu's wardrobe, each more elaborate than the last. Fifi rejected them all. Too much lace. Too many jewels. Too many ribbons. Too formal. Too dramatic. One dress even earned an immediate shake of the head before Lulu had finished holding it up. By the time they reached the simpler outfits tucked away in the back of the wardrobe, Lulu was beginning to wonder if Fifi intended to leave her with anything at all.

An hour later, the princess stood before her mirror in a soft lilac date dress that was elegant without feeling overly formal. The dress had a gently fitted bodice with a modest sweetheart neckline edged in delicate white lace, slender short sleeves, and a softly defined waist that gave way to a flowing knee-length skirt. The fabric moved lightly around her legs instead of billowing like a gown, and the simple lace along the neckline and hem provided just enough decoration without making her look dressed for a royal function. Her golden hair was tied back with a small ribbon instead of her crown. For the first time in her life, she looked less like a ruler of chaos and more like—well—someone's date.

Fifi gave the dress one final, approving look before turning toward the small stack of boxes beside the mirror. "One more thing."

Lulu looked down at herself. "There's more?"

"There are always shoes, and I can let you borrow a pair of mine."

Fifi lifted the lid from a narrow box and presented a pair of soft lilac heels nestled inside. They were elegant without being extravagant, with low, comfortable heels and delicate ankle straps that crossed neatly above the foot. A thin line of white lace decorated the edges, echoing the trim of the dress, while tiny pearl-like beads rested near each buckle. The toes were softly rounded, giving them a youthful sweetness that matched the flowing skirt without making Lulu look as though she were dressed for a grand celebration.

Lulu's eyes lit up, "Oh, those are adorable!"

"They're also practical," Fifi added quickly. "You can actually walk in them."

Lulu gasped as though deeply offended. "I can walk in heels."

Fifi's tail twitched.

"You tripped over the doorstep wearing your festival shoes."

"That doorstep was unusually aggressive."

Fifi stared at her. Lulu stared back. After a moment, Fifi simply placed the shoes into her hands.

"Put them on."

Lulu grinned, "Yes, ma'am."

A few minutes later, Lulu stood before the mirror once again. The soft lilac dress settled gracefully around her, its lace trim adding just enough elegance without overwhelming her. The matching heels completed the look perfectly, the delicate ankle straps and tiny pearl accents making her feel dressed up without feeling like she was attending another royal ceremony.

Lulu slowly turned from side to side, watching the skirt sway around her knees. For once, there was no crown, no elaborate jewelry, no layers of ceremonial fabric announcing to everyone that she was a princess. She simply looked like herself, only prettier.

Lulu smiled at her reflection and lifted the edge of her skirt with both hands, giving herself one playful little twirl.

"Oh," she murmured, her smile widening. "I really like this."

Behind her, Fifi folded her arms with quiet satisfaction. "Good. That means we're finally done."

Lulu looked over her shoulder. "Can I add one tiny tiara?"

"No."

"Just a little one?"

"Lulu."

"Fine." She turned back toward the mirror, still smiling. She didn't need it anyway. Cupcake purred approvingly.

Lulu turned, cheeks pink. "You think he'll like it?"

Fifi smiled gently, leaning on the doorframe. "He'd be a fool not to."

Lulu beamed, twirling once in front of the mirror before stopping abruptly. "I still have until tomorrow. That's plenty of time to improve it!"

Fifi groaned. "Oh no—" But Lulu was already pulling out another stack of dresses. Cupcake sighed and buried herself beneath a pillow.

On the day of the concert, Lulu stood before her mirror, the battlefield now reduced to two final combatants: a pair of silver rose-shaped earrings and another of dangling crystal drops that shimmered like morning dew. Her brow furrowed in deep concentration, lips pursed, as if her entire romantic destiny hinged on this one choice.

"Maybe the silver says 'graceful'… but the crystals say 'ethereal'…" she muttered, holding each up to her ears and turning her head this way and that. "Oh, why must I be so dazzlingly indecisive?"

From outside her room came Lucien's voice, warm but lightly teasing. "Lulu, it's almost time! We should head out before it gets late."

"Just one more second!" she shouted back, then glanced at Cupcake, who was lounging on the vanity. "…I'm negotiating peace."

Cupcake yawned in response. Flustered, Lulu snatched up the crystal earrings, muttering, "Fine! These will have to do," before fastening them on and giving herself one final spin.

When she finally stepped out of her room, the sight made Lucien stop mid-sentence. Her lilac dress caught the afternoon light perfectly, the soft lace trimming tracing delicate patterns across the fabric. Her golden hair, tied back with a small ribbon instead of her usual crown, framed her face in a way that made her look less like a princess and more like something gentler—something human. The faint blush of her cheeks, the neat white gloves, the glimmering earrings—all of it came together with effortless charm.

Lucien blinked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You look… amazing, Lulu."

Her heart skipped. "Ah—uh—thank you!" she stammered, clasping her hands together to hide her trembling fingers. "You clean up nicely yourself," she added, voice a little higher than usual.

Then she noticed the large woven basket in his hands. "What's that? Don't tell me you brought a second gift?"

Lucien chuckled softly. "Not quite. The concert doesn't start until later, so I thought we could have a picnic first. It's a nice day, and there's a field just outside the city where the cherry blossoms are still blooming."

Lulu's eyes widened, her blush deepening. "A picnic… before the concert?" She clasped her hands together and smiled dreamily. "That's… incredibly romantic."

Lucien rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I figured it'd be better than waiting around in the city. Getting a reservation at a restaurant today will be impossible. Besides,"—his eyes met hers—"I thought you might like something peaceful for once."

Lulu's voice softened. "You thought right."

She reached for his hand, hesitated halfway, then brushed a strand of hair behind her ear instead. "Well then, Sir Lucien, lead the way. Your princess awaits her carriage."

He grinned. "We're walking."

She blinked. "…How terribly commoner of you." But her smile didn't fade as they stepped out into the sun, the warm spring breeze carrying laughter and a faint, hopeful melody—one that even the upcoming concert couldn't quite match.

Outside the walls of Drakenburg, the picnic had unfolded beneath the gentle sway of cherry blossom branches, their petals drifting lazily through the air like fragments of pink snow. The open field was quiet save for the sound of a soft breeze, the faint rush of a distant stream, and the light rustle of Lucien unpacking their food.

Lulu sat upon the checkered blanket, her lilac dress pooling gracefully around her knees, eyes glittering as Lucien placed a small spread between them—fresh bread, fruit, cheese, and a few pastries from Fifi and Belle's inn.

"Oh, you really do know how to make a girl feel spoiled," she teased, popping a grape into her mouth.

Lucien smiled, leaning back on his palms. "You say that like I didn't spend half the morning being hassled by Fifi for taking one of the croissants I brought for you."

Lulu laughed, light and musical. "Serves her right! Fifi's croissants are sacred!"

For a while, they simply ate and talked, their conversation flowing as easily as the spring air around them. It was one of those rare, quiet moments where Lulu wasn't the chaotic whirlwind of Atland royalty, and Lucien wasn't the overworked caretaker of a small village—they were just two people enjoying a meal under the blossoms.

Then something small and glossy bounced into view "Hmm?" Lulu tilted her head as a round, golden-yellow slime—no bigger than her palm—plopped out of the nearby bushes, its jelly-like body wobbling adorably with each hop.

Lucien blinked. "Oh, a baby slime. That's odd. They usually stay near the creek."

The slime paused in front of Lulu, its gelatinous surface quivering as if sniffing the air. Then it gave a soft blorp! and tilted upward expectantly.

Lulu gasped, eyes sparkling. "Lucien. It's adorable!"

Before he could warn her not to touch wild monsters, she had already picked up a grape from the basket and held it out. The slime jiggled with excitement, wrapped around the grape, and absorbed it with a happy little gurgle.

Lulu giggled like a child discovering a secret. "Oh, look at you! You like grapes? You precious little blob!"

She gently scooped it up in both hands, holding it close to her face. The slime nuzzled against her palms, warm and strangely velvety. Lulu's eyes went wide. "It's incredibly soft! Lucien, touch it!"

Lucien blinked. "I'd rather not. The last time I touched one, it tried to digest my sleeve."

"Maybe because your sleeve looked tastier than you," she teased, rubbing her cheek against the little creature. The slime purred—or at least made a noise suspiciously similar to purring.

Watching her laugh as petals fell into her hair, Lucien couldn't help but smile. There was something disarming about the sight—Lulu, the princess of Atland, cooing over a blob of jelly like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"I think I'm in love," Lulu whispered dramatically.

Lucien sighed. "Please tell me you're talking about the slime."

She looked up with a teasing glint in her eye. "Maybe. Maybe not."

He tried to hide his smirk but failed miserably. The slime gave a cheerful bloop! between them, as if sensing the budding tension and demanding equal attention. Lulu laughed again and cradled it like a jewel.

"From now on," she declared proudly, "you shall be called Pudding! Because you are sweet and wobbly and utterly perfect."

Lucien shook his head. "You're going to start an interspecies custody battle if you keep naming wild slimes."

"Nonsense," she said, still petting the tiny creature. "He loves me. Don't you, Pudding?" The slime answered with another joyful blorp!

And somehow, between the blossoms, the laughter, and the gentle spring light, Lucien realized he'd lost the battle long ago—Lulu wasn't the only one enchanted by the warmth of the day.

Once their bellies were full, Lucien packed up the blanket and they were headed straight for the front gates of Drakenburg. The walk to Drakenburg was lively. Lulu skipped along the dirt road, Pudding happily wobbling in her cupped hands, humming some tuneless melody that matched the spring breeze. Lucien trailed behind, the picnic basket in one hand, his other hand massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Lulu," he said carefully, as though approaching a wild animal. "You know they don't allow wild monsters inside the city, right? They'll confiscate it the second they see you."

Lulu smiled sweetly, holding Pudding up to eye level. "Don't listen to him, my little squishy prince. They wouldn't dare take you from a princess."

"Don't say that I didn't warn you," Lucien muttered.

By the time they reached the grand gates of Drakenburg, the city guards were already checking carriages and travelers. Their gleaming armor caught the sunlight, their expressions grim and officious. Lulu, however, marched forward with all the confidence of a royal leading a parade.

"Good afternoon, fine gentlemen!" she said brightly, holding Pudding in both hands like an offering.

The guards blinked, then straightened when they recognized her. "Princess Lulu of Atland! Welcome back to Drakenburg."

They stepped aside immediately, saluting as she pranced through the gates. Pudding gave a cheerful blorp! and jiggled in approval.

Lucien approached right behind her, relieved that it went smoothly—until one of the guards held out an armored hand. "Hold up, sir."

Lucien blinked. "What?"

"Random inspection," the guard said solemnly. "We're strict about contraband entering the city."

Lucien stared, then pointed helplessly at Lulu, who was already halfway down the street. "You literally just let her through—with an actual slime in her hands!"

The guard didn't even look up from his inspection form. "She's royalty, sir. You're… not."

Lulu glanced over her shoulder, stuck out her tongue, and made a little nyeh! face before skipping out of sight. Lucien sighed, his soul visibly leaving his body. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Basket, please," the guard said.

Lucien opened the basket with the defeated air of a man who had accepted the futility of existence. Inside were just crumbs, a few grapes, and a lonely croissant. The guard nodded gravely. "Looks clear. You may proceed."

Lucien then trudged into the city, muttering under his breath. "Royalty, monsters, and croissants. My life has officially become a children's story."

From down the street, Lulu waved cheerfully, Pudding still wiggling in her arms. "What took you so long, slowpoke?"

Lucien gave her a flat look. "Contraband check."

"Ah," she said, pretending to think. "Next time, try being cute and bouncy like Pudding."

Lucien deadpanned, "I'll pass." Pudding gave a victorious blorp; as if to agree with its categiver.

That evening, the plaza was alive with light and music. Lanterns glowed like floating stars, petals drifted from the blooming trees above, and the air pulsed with excitement. Drakenburg had turned its grand square into a sea of cheering fans—all waiting for one person.

"Lucien! Look!" Lulu gasped, nearly bouncing on her toes. "They're selling Lina headbands! And light wands! And—oh my gosh—slime hats!"

Lucien chuckled as she darted toward a vendor. "You don't even know who she is."

"That doesn't matter!" Lulu declared, returning triumphantly with matching wands and a tiny plush hat for Pudding, who now jiggled happily on her head, sparkling under the festival lights. "I am fully invested."

Moments later, the lights dimmed. A hush fell over the crowd.

Then, with a flash of emerald light, Lina appeared—glorious in her green and gold outfit, microphone gleaming in her hand. Her long blonde hair shimmered as she raised an arm to the sky.

"Drakenburg! Are you ready?!"

The crowd erupted in cheers. Lulu squealed, waving her light wand so enthusiastically that Pudding nearly bounced off her head.

Lucien couldn't help but smile. He wasn't much of a music person, but seeing Lulu's eyes sparkle—her whole being glowing in the rhythm of the performance—it made every moment worth it. She sang along with the chorus despite not knowing the words, her laughter blending into the crowd's energy.

Between songs, Lina addressed the audience with her bright, melodic voice. "This next song," she said, "is about friendship, courage, and maybe… just a little bit of love."

Lulu froze mid-cheer, glancing at Lucien. Their eyes met, and for a moment the noise around them melted into soft silence. Her cheeks turned the shade of pink lemonade.

Lucien looked away first, scratching the back of his neck. "So… enjoying yourself?"

She smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I am. Thank you… for bringing me."

Then, as if on cue, Pudding gave an enthusiastic blorp! and bounced off Lulu's head straight into Lucien's lap. Both of them burst into laughter as the crowd clapped along to Lina's next song.

By the end of the concert, fireworks painted the sky in ribbons of blue and gold. Lulu leaned slightly against Lucien's shoulder, humming the tune of Lina's final song. Pudding dozed off on her head, glowing faintly under the moonlight.

"Lucien?" she murmured.

"Yeah?"

"I think this is the best date I've ever had."

Lucien smiled softly. "It's the only one you've ever had."

She laughed and swatted his arm. "Then it's definitely the best."

As another round of fireworks bloomed overhead, Lucien glanced at her from the corner of his eye—the way the light danced in her hair, the peaceful smile on her lips—and thought, just maybe, that he couldn't argue with that.

The night had grown still by the time they left Drakenburg. The concert's echoes had faded into the distance, leaving only the rhythmic sound of their footsteps and the soft hum of crickets in the grass. Pudding, perched happily atop Lulu's head, glowed faintly under the moonlight—a tiny, golden orb of life.

Then, without warning, Pudding gave a small boing and leapt from Lulu's head. "Pudding?" Lulu blinked in surprise as the little slime bounced toward the trees. "Pudding, wait!"

She chased after it, her lilac skirts brushing the ferns, laughter at first in her voice—until she realized how far ahead it had gone. Lucien sighed and followed, muttering under his breath. "Of course the night ends with a chase scene."

The trees thinned into an opening that led into a small cave, glowing faintly from within. The air shimmered with warmth, like the world's quiet heartbeat. Lulu slowed her pace, and Lucien stepped in beside her.

Inside, nestled among the rocks, were half a dozen tiny colorful slimes, softly pulsing with life. The gentle light from their bodies painted the cave walls in hues of colors of the rainbow. Pudding bounced toward them with a cheerful blorp, greeted by a chorus of smaller bloops in return.

Lulu's heart twisted. "Oh… it's your family."

She knelt down, extending her hands. "Pudding, come on. Let's go home, okay?"

The little slime wobbled but didn't move. Its small body quivered as it looked at her—sad, hesitant, as if it wanted to but couldn't. It pulsed once, glowing brighter, then nestled against another, smaller slime.

Lulu bit her lip. "Pudding…?"

Lucien came to her side and rested a hand on her shoulder. His voice was low, steady, the kind that held warmth behind its calm. "It's trying to tell you goodbye."

Tears welled in Lulu's eyes. "But… I don't want to say goodbye."

"I know," Lucien said softly. "But look at it. It's home now. That's what's best for it—a family to come back to."

She stayed quiet for a long moment, watching the tiny creature she'd fed grapes and carried on her head, the one that had bounced to the rhythm of Lina's songs and glowed when she laughed.

Finally, she wiped her eyes, forcing a trembling smile. "Okay then. I'll let you stay, Pudding. But you have to promise to remember me, alright? I'll visit whenever I can."

Pudding bounced once, glowing brightly—a tiny heartbeat of light in the dark.

Lulu smiled through her tears. "Goodbye, Pudding."

Lucien gently guided her toward the mouth of the cave. As they stepped back into the night, the golden light behind them dimmed softly, until it was only a warm memory against the shadows.

The walk home was quiet. The stars stretched endlessly above, and Lulu held her hand to her chest, as though trying to hold onto the feeling of that small warmth.

Lucien glanced at her, his voice barely above a whisper. "You okay?"

She nodded, smiling faintly. "Yeah. I think… I finally understand what it means to let someone go."

Lucien smiled back, softly. "You did good, Princess."

And under the silver light of the moon, Lulu walked beside him—her heart heavy but full, her steps a little slower, her spirit a little wiser.

Outside, the last light of the day spilled over Keimonomimi Village. For the first time since meeting Mescal, Lucien felt a small weight lift from his shoulders — even if another, much more talkative one had just settled in for good.

The morning sun draped Keimonomimi Village in soft gold, the kind that made the dew on the fields glitter like tiny jewels. Birds sang from the rooftops, and somewhere in the distance, Cupcake was chasing butterflies again.

Lucien stretched, basket in hand, looking far more relaxed than he had in weeks. "Perfect weather for strawberries," he said with a grin.

Lulu smiled, her spirit bright again after yesterday's bittersweet farewell to Pudding. "Then let's pick only the sweetest ones! I'll make a tart for you later."

"Let's give the baking to Fifi," Lucien said, before patting his pockets with a frown. "Ah—hold on. I think I left the garden shears inside. I'll be right back."

Lulu nodded and watched him jog back toward their little home. She hummed softly to herself, sunlight catching in her golden hair. For a rare moment, everything felt perfectly peaceful.

Then came the sound of footsteps behind her, "Princess Lulu!"

She turned and saw Clemency and Tessie, Mescal's men. They were dressed impeccably, as always, though their sudden appearance here in the village was… strange.

"Oh! Clemency, Tessie! What are you doing here?"

Clemency smiled, his tone smooth as silk. "We've been sent to escort you, Your Highness."

"Escort me?" Lulu blinked. "But Lucien and I were just about to—"

"There's been a change of plans," Tessie said quickly, his hands clasped behind his back. "Mescal has arranged a special banquet in your honor. You must come right away."

"A banquet?" Lulu's eyes sparkled. "For me?"

"Of course," Clemency said warmly. "Lucien already knows. He insisted you not be kept waiting."

That seemed to settle it. Lulu hesitated only a moment before smiling. "Well, if Lucien already knows…"

She brushed off her dress, completely oblivious to the faintly tense exchange of glances between the two attendants. "Very well! I suppose I should look my best, then. Lead the way!"

"Gladly, Your Highness," Clemency said with a polite bow.

The three of them walked down the forest path, sunlight flickering through the trees as the village slowly disappeared behind them.

Moments later, Lucien stepped out of the house, shears in hand. "Alright, I'm ready! …Lulu?"

Silence answered him. The wind stirred the tall grass, the distant hum of bees filling the emptiness.

"Lulu?" he called again, louder this time. No reply.

He frowned, glancing around the field. The picnic basket sat untouched on the grass. Two sets of unfamiliar footprints led away from it. His chest tightened.

"…Oh no."

The sunlight no longer felt warm. Somewhere deep in the forest, a bird took flight, startled by the sharp echo of Lucien's footsteps as he ran—calling her name again and again into the quiet morning. But Princess Lulu was already gone.