CUBE 2

When Tislin Ermiz was just eight years old, one winter—

The Count and Countess of Ermiz had, by chance, been invited to a hunting gathering hosted by the Grand Duke’s family. Leaving their only daughter in the care of her nursemaid, they tried their utmost to draw attention at the event, but gained little from their efforts.

Meanwhile, eight-year-old Tislin, left behind while the adults went hunting, slipped away from the watch of her drowsy nursemaid and began wandering alone through the Luksen Grand Duke’s villa.

The sprawling mansion, built in the closed-off northern style, was intricate enough to stir any child’s curiosity. Tislin rolled and wandered through the dusty estate until she eventually drifted into the underground wine cellar. She had mistaken the staircase leading down for a secret passage.

“Oh, wow…”

The cellar, filled with enormous oak barrels, carried a scent she had never encountered before. It made her slightly dizzy. Standing on tiptoe, Tislin tapped at the barrels she could barely reach and ventured further inside.

Then she heard something strange.

Hic, hic—
A thin sound, like a child crying.

It’s not a ghost, right? Come to think of it, our great-great—well, some grandfather’s portrait is said to wander at night… No, there aren’t even any portraits here.

The eerie bedtime stories her nursemaid used to tell resurfaced in her mind. Though her body trembled, Tislin stubbornly pressed forward, unwilling to be a coward.

The dark, chilly cellar held nothing but giant oak barrels. Had she not thought of ghosts, she might have looked around briefly and left. But determined not to lose her nerve, she ventured deeper.

Hic, hic. The sound grew louder. It even seemed as though she could hear breathing.

So she hadn’t imagined it.

Her short legs stopped in their tracks.

“W-what? Who’s there? Is someone there?”

She deliberately shouted in a bold voice, and it echoed grandly around her. Encouraged by the resonance, Tislin straightened her small shoulders and puffed herself up.

That was when—

“I-I’m here! Adel’s here!”

There really was someone.

Tislin nearly collapsed on the spot. If not for the stubborn bravado she clung to even in an empty cellar, she might have burst into tears like a baby.

“Where are you? Who are you?”

“I’m Adel! Adel’s here!”

Listening carefully, the thin voice belonged to a very young child, speaking in short, halting phrases. With the dignity of someone well beyond the age countable on one hand, Tislin asked in an affectedly mature tone,

“Where is ‘here’?”

“I don’t know. It’s dark!”

“Are you a baby?”

The baby clamped their mouth shut.

So it was a baby. Tislin softened her voice.

“Baby, clap your hands.”

“I’m Adel, though…”

The child protested timidly but obediently clapped—pat, pat.

Tislin followed the growing sound of clapping.

The echoes made it confusing, and she had to wander back and forth for quite some time. But eventually the clapping and voice became clear.

“I’m Tis. I’ll get you out, baby.”

“Okay! Hurry and get me out!”

The baby even clapped happily at being called “baby.” Lowering herself seriously, ears perked, Tislin said,

“Baby, try hitting the wall with your fists.”

“Hit it? No! I’ll get scolded!”

“It’s okay right now. It’s just us.”

The plan failed. With tiny fists like that, no loud bang would come—only dull thuds. As she circled the area, puzzling over why she couldn’t see the child, a realization struck her.

There were only oak barrels here.
What if the baby was inside one?

“Are you in here?”

She tapped each barrel. The baby replied, “No!” each time.

When she reached the sixth barrel, the baby’s voice sounded distinctly louder.

“You’re in here!”

“I’m here!”

She heard faint knocking from inside. Upon closer inspection, she saw that an empty barrel had a small hole—just large enough for a little child to crawl through. The child must have climbed in and gotten stuck.

“I’ll give you my hand.”

The hole was slightly raised above the ground. Tislin reached in, waving her hand, until small fingers grasped hers.

“Got you!”

“Now come out.”

It wasn’t easy. After more than a dozen strenuous attempts, the barrel finally tipped over and spilled the child out.

Later she would hear that a spell had been cast on the barrel to prevent wine from spilling. The children knew nothing of that. They simply rejoiced in their triumph, hugging each other and jumping up and down.

“Oh dear, baby, your clothes are all dirty. Let’s go upstairs.”

Though the baby’s legs hurt halfway up the stairs and she had to sit down for a moment, they safely completed their adventure and returned to the sunlit, beautiful villa.

And that was when they found it in utter chaos.

“Lady Adelinde! Oh heavens! Fetch His Grace the Grand Duke—we’ve found Lady Adelinde!”

A noblewoman with sharp, cold eyes burst into tears and crushed the baby in her embrace. Baby Adelinde blinked wide eyes and awkwardly patted the woman’s back. Tislin, overwhelmed by the sudden commotion, stood frozen in fear.

Soon, it was not the Grand Duke who arrived, but a boy nearly two hand-spans taller than Tislin. He looked about twelve—beautiful, poised. Upon spotting Adelinde, he knelt immediately.

“Adelinde, where on earth have you been?”

“…I was looking around the house. I went inside a barrel and couldn’t get out. But Tis gave me her hand and I came out.”

The boy turned his head and met Tislin’s stiff gaze.

His eyes reminded her of her mother’s treasured sapphire necklace.

That was the first meeting between Tislin Ermiz and Damian Xsanope.

After that, nothing particularly remarkable happened.

For reasons unknown, Adelinde became utterly smitten with Tislin after that day. Summer or winter, she would sob and demand that Tislin be brought to her. The Grand Duke was weak to the tears of his orphaned granddaughter, and the Count and Countess of Ermiz did not miss the opportunity to attach their daughter to the Luksen Grand Ducal family.

Thus Tislin spent two months in Luksen twice a year—four months in total.

And at Adelinde Lux’s side, there was always Damian Xsanope.

Recognized at a young age for his talent as a magic swordsman, he had become a disciple of Grand Duke Armart Lux. Though busy with relentless training, he made sure to visit Adelinde once a day to listen to her complaints.

The child who had lost her parents relied on her grandfather’s young disciple like an older brother, and Damian did his utmost to meet those expectations.

Tislin never questioned why. She simply accepted it as natural.

“Damian, tie my hair. Braid it into two.”

The boy’s hands, roughened by grueling training, skillfully braided Adelinde’s hair. Though not naturally dexterous, he had practically raised little Adelinde and had grown accustomed to tying ribbons and making flower crowns.

In no time, two adorable braids were complete. Adelinde bounced excitedly in front of the mirror.

Twelve-year-old Tislin smiled as she watched seven-year-old Adelinde laugh brightly.

“Wow, Adel. You look pretty. It suits you.”

“Is it pretty?”

“Very.”

“Then Tis should match me!”

“Huh?”

“Damian, do Tis too!”

Though Tislin and Damian shared Adelinde as a common point, they were never particularly close. They sometimes played together at Adelinde’s insistence, but both prioritized entertaining her above all.

So even after years of familiarity, their eyes rarely met.

“Sit down.”

Damian had no intention of refusing Adelinde’s request. Tislin reluctantly sat.

When her hair was tightly braided with Adelinde’s cute ribbons, she thought she looked ridiculous—like an adult wearing a child’s clothes.

It had looked cute on Adelinde.

Her dissatisfaction showed plainly.

“Wow, Tis looks just like me!”

“Mmm…”

“You don’t like matching me?”

As Adelinde’s face crumpled, Damian quickly said,

“Why not? It suits you.”

It was utter nonsense, devoid of sincerity. Tislin shot him a glare; Damian turned his head as if unaware.

Fortunately, unlike Damian—who either indulged Adelinde’s stubbornness or made her cry—Tislin knew how to handle things better.

“I’m older than Adel, so I can’t wear it the same way. This is cute because it’s yours.”

“But I want to match Tis.”

“No. Wait a second.”

Tislin untied the braids and sat again.

“Loosen it this time.”

“Loosen it!”

Damian redid her hair. Each time he pulled too hard, Tislin cried, “Gently!” and Adelinde gleefully echoed, “Gently!”

Tislin focused only on her hair, unaware of the faintly sulky look on the boy behind her.

“There.”

Though still twin braids, they were looser and hung lower—more mature. Tislin was satisfied, and so was Adelinde.

“Adelinde actually listened…”

Damian, too, was satisfied that someone existed whom Adelinde would yield to.

That was how it was.

During Tislin’s stays in Luksen, the two of them practically raised Adelinde together. Perhaps there was some sense of camaraderie between them. Even if not, theirs was a bond spanning over ten years. They could not claim to be strangers.

At seventeen, Tislin entered the Royal Academy.

Since she had to attend school, she could no longer spend four months a year in Luksen. For a brief time, she assumed her connection to the Grand Ducal family would naturally fade.

But that June, when the pacification of southern Parpanan was finally completed, Damian Xsanope received a royal command to enroll in the Royal Academy as well, transferring into the Knight Division.

And so, the two of them began attending the same school.