As soon as the door closed behind them, Florian caught the shift in the air.

"Can you handle this yourself?"

Juno’s note seemed pre-written again, as if she had to ask multiple people if they could handle things on their own many times.

"Of course," Cindy replied quickly. "I’ll make sure His Highness is well taken care of."

Florian sat on the edge of the bed, one hand braced beside him. He hadn’t felt sick walking back here.

Tired, yes. But now, the room felt like it was gently spinning, the fatigue settling into his limbs all at once.

’That walk really shouldn’t have done this,’ he thought, swallowing.

He glanced up subtly, watching them through his lashes. He could still clearly see the words Juno wrote on her notepad.

"Do not do anything stupid," Juno glares at her. "For some reason, His Highness is paranoid, and it’s going to upset His Grace."

A frown creased her face as she wrote another one. "We can’t let the prince’s sensitivity make things worse."

Florian’s jaw tightened.

’Sensitive?’ he thought. ’I felt sick. I wasn’t imagining it.’

If anything, Eldrick had been the one reacting too strongly.

"I don’t think Prince Florian is being sensitive," Cindy said hesitantly. "He just—"

Juno raises a hand, as if she were saying she didn’t want to hear whatever explanation Cindy had. She just placed a hand on Cindy’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

Cindy let out a small squeak. "O-Okay, Ms. Juno."

"I’ll be going now," Juno showed another pre-written note, all the while writing a new one. "We still have other guests, and I’m sure Duke Eldrick is busy trying to appease that knight."

Florian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

’The way she writes...’ he thought. ’She writes about Eldrick like he’s volatile.’

As Juno turned and left, Florian straightened, forcing his expression neutral.

By the time Cindy turned back into the room, he looked like he hadn’t seen a thing.

Cindy stepped inside and closed the door, her smile snapping into place a little too quickly.

"Hi, Your Highness!" she said brightly, adjusting her apron. "How are you feeling?"

Florian didn’t bother lying. "Tired again," he admitted. "And a bit dizzy."

Cindy looked away.

"Mhm."

Florian tilted his head.

’That’s it?’ he thought. ’Just mhm?’

Something about her reaction felt off. Too controlled.

"Your Highness," Cindy said after a moment, her voice softer now, "before I call for a physician... I’d like to ask you a few questions."

Questions.

Plural.

"And I hope you’ll answer honestly."

Florian studied her face. The nervousness. The way she kept shifting her weight.

’This isn’t casual curiosity,’ he realized.

"Alright," he said slowly. "Go ahead."

She stepped closer, hands clasped tightly in front of her. "Have you been eating a lot lately?"

"Eating a lot?" Florian blinked. "Uh... yes, I guess. I snack more when I’m stressed. Some people say I’ve gotten a bit bloated."

Cashew had teased him about it. Drizelous had been more blunt.

He shrugged faintly. "I’ve been under a lot of pressure."

Cindy nodded, as if checking something off in her head.

"Have you been... emotional?" she asked. "Moody?"

Moody?

Florian hesitated.

’Crying more than usual counts, right?’ he thought. ’And whatever this mess with Heinz is...’

"Maybe," he said honestly.

"You’re dizzy right now?"

"Yes."

She inhaled. "The food you usually love... You said it felt off. Did it smell bad? Did it make you feel like throwing up even though it looked appetizing?"

Florian’s eyes widened slightly.

"That’s exactly it," he said. "That’s exactly how it felt."

Cindy swallowed.

"You got tired just from walking," she continued quietly. "And you dreamt of bunnies."

Florian stiffened.

"Wait," he said sharply. "The bunny dream too?" He stared at her. "That’s part of why you’re asking all this?"

His pulse picked up. "Cindy... do you know what’s happening to me?"

She hesitated.

"I... I might have an idea," she said nervously.

Florian leaned forward despite the dizziness. "What is it?"

A knock echoed against the door.

Both of them froze.

Cindy’s head snapped toward it. "Were you expecting someone?"

"No," Florian answered slowly. ’Unless...’

Lancelot would have come with him if he had planned to. Hendrix wouldn’t knock. Athena and Scarlett would have announced themselves.

’This timing is awful,’ he thought.

The knock came again, firmer this time.

Florian looked back at Cindy, his voice low. "We will finish this conversation later."

Cindy nodded, her face pale.

"I promise," she whispered.

Florian straightened, schooling his expression as the dizziness pressed in again.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened slowly.

Two maids stepped inside first.

They didn’t speak. They simply moved to either side of the doorway and stood there, hands folded neatly in front of them, heads slightly bowed.

Florian blinked.

’Why are there two of them?’ he thought.

Cindy gasped softly beside him.

"Lady Elianna," she whispered quickly before lowering herself into a curtsy.

Oh.

Elianna.

Eldrick’s daughter.

Florian straightened instinctively, even though his body still felt faintly unsteady.

Lady Elianna stepped into the room with quiet grace.

She looked to be in her mid-twenties, perhaps a little older than he had imagined. Her long brown hair fell in loose curls down her back, catching the light as she moved. Her yellow eyes were striking, bright but warm, nothing like the colder shade Eldrick carried.

’She doesn’t resemble him at all,’ Florian noted. ’She must look like her mother.’

There was something softer about her presence. Less rigid. Less sharp.

Florian moved to stand fully.

"Lady Elianna," he greeted politely.

She lifted a hand gently. "Please, Your Highness, don’t stand," she said at once. "I was told you were feeling unwell."

And then she curtsied.

Properly.

Florian felt slightly awkward.

"You don’t have to—" he began.

"It is only right," she replied with a small smile.

She straightened and met his gaze directly, her expression sincere.

"I apologize for barging in like this," Elianna continued. "I simply wished to greet you personally before I depart."

"Depart?" Florian echoed softly.

"Yes." She clasped her hands lightly in front of her. "I am leaving on a short trip. It was planned long before we were informed of your visit. I regret that I will not be able to assist in hosting you during your stay."

Florian studied her face.

She didn’t look nervous.

She didn’t look guilty.

If anything, she looked... genuinely disappointed.

’Is she telling the truth?’ he wondered. ’Or is this just good acting?’

He forced himself not to overthink every single interaction.

"It’s perfectly alright," Florian said warmly. "Please don’t worry about it. I hope you have a safe trip."

Elianna’s smile widened just slightly.

"Thank you, Your Highness," she said. "I truly hope your stay here becomes more comfortable."

There was a subtle emphasis on comfort.

Florian caught it.

Or maybe he imagined it.

’I’m starting to doubt everything,’ he thought.

Elianna inclined her head once more. "Please take care of your health."

"I will," Florian replied softly.

"I shall take my leave now," she added, her tone gentle but firm. "I cannot afford to be late."

She turned with effortless grace. The two maids at the door straightened at once, stepping into place behind her like shadows.

And then—

Florian remembered.

His breath caught.

’Farah.’

"Oh! Before you leave, Lady Elianna."

The words slipped out before he could second-guess himself.

He pushed himself off the bed a little too quickly. The room tilted for a second, and he had to steady himself against the wall.

’Slow down,’ he scolded himself.

Still, he walked toward the door, ignoring the slight dizziness.

Elianna paused mid-step and turned back toward him.

"Please," she said warmly, "you may call me Elianna. And what is it?"

She was smiling.

Calm.

Polite.

Florian swallowed.

"Elianna," he corrected smoothly. "My maids back at the palace heard I would be visiting here. They asked me to send their regards to a friend of theirs who works here."

Elianna tilted her head slightly.

"Oh?"

"There was a maid they mentioned," Florian continued casually, though his pulse had begun to pound. "Farah. They said she used to serve you."

For a split second, he held his breath.

Elianna’s expression did not change.

Not even slightly.

No flicker of surprise. No tightening of her jaw. Nothing.

But the maids behind her—

They stiffened.

It was subtle. Almost invisible.

One of them straightened too quickly. The other’s fingers twitched against the fabric of her apron.

And behind Florian—

Cindy inhaled sharply.

’Cindy...’ Florian thought. ’She knew Farrah?’

"Farah?" Elianna repeated, as if recalling something distant. Then she smiled again. "Ah. That lovely maid who served me for a time."

Her voice was light. Natural.

"She was quite diligent," Elianna continued. "Very attentive. But I’m afraid I haven’t seen her since."

What?