Even on the day my confusion began, Sabrina was sprawled on the bed in my shabby room in the east wing, rather than in her luxurious chamber.

“My brother is coming.”

“Is that so? With the Count?”

Count Pennel often sent Justin back to the estate before returning home himself. It was much easier to protect him when the Count was at the mansion.

It seemed the Count had only ordered Justin to bring the drawing with the maze, without specifically instructing anyone to abuse him. Justin always came to the east wing, avoiding the Count’s eyes.

“No, Father seems to be coming a bit later.”

Sabrina and I sighed simultaneously. As for me, that’s understandable.

“Why are you sighing?”

“They’re going to stay for a while this time.”

“Who?”

“Who else? Father and that Justin fellow.”

Sabrina abruptly sat up on the bed and approached the table where I was. Sitting across from me, she idly tapped the cookies I had saved to give to Ricardo later. Then, resting her chin on the table, she let out another heavy sigh.

I didn’t need to ask why they were staying longer. The sea became rough around this time. Since they ran a merchant group primarily engaged in trade, both the Count and Justin usually stayed at the mansion longer during this season to rest.

“I’m worried Mother’s condition might worsen when Father arrives.”

Recently, the Countess had been taking short walks in the garden during the day. Though she didn’t speak to us affectionately, she would gaze at us playing together.

As Sabrina said, if the Count appeared, the Countess might retreat to her room again.

“Oh, by the way. I saw him on my way here, and he seems a bit strange.”

Ricardo was still just a nameless child from the east wing to Sabrina.

But on a bright spring day on a hill, Ricardo had told me his name first, as if he were naming a wildflower.

“What do you mean? He was fine until this morning.”

“He seemed to be looking at me, but he didn’t acknowledge me.”

“He never acknowledges you anyway.”

“Hey! He at least greets me now!”

Sabrina was about to get angry but ended up slumping back onto the desk.

“It’s not just about greeting or not, it’s more like… his eyes are unfocused. He looks like someone who’s lost his mind. He just keeps drawing even when I talk to him. Ugh… it was a bit scary.”

She shuddered slightly, but I kept my eyes on my book and replied casually, “Is that so?”

“The drawing is really weird too. It looks like some underground prison. The paths are all tangled up like a maze.”

My hand stopped mid-page turn. As I looked up, I saw the arm of a gingerbread man-shaped cookie finally snap in Sabrina’s hand, scattering crumbs all over the table.

“What?”

“Goodness! Why are you shouting like that?”

“Say that again.”

“Why are you getting so angry?”

“I said, say it again.”

“Well, I mean, the east wing kid has drawn mazes before, but they were never this dark. But this one really feels like being trapped in an underground prison. Even looking at it for a moment, I felt like I was inside it… Anyway, it was kind of creepy- Hey! Where are you going?”

Ignoring Sabrina’s calls, I ran off to find Ricardo.

If what Sabrina said was true, he was definitely drawing the labyrinth.

The fact that Ricardo started drawing the labyrinth map after leaving the Duke’s mansion had been my only hope and reassurance until now…

‘Ah, it can’t be.’

By the time I was out of breath, I managed to find Ricardo. He was standing in front of the largest window on the first floor of the east wing that led to the back garden. With an easel set up before him and a deep frown on his face, his mere presence created a surreal scene.

With hair darker than darkness itself, eyes shining like obsidian, a face so pale it was almost transparent, a long and straight neckline, and a noble bearing like that of a crane, he was beautiful enough to instantly captivate the soul of anyone who saw him.

But his own eyes held nothing. The slight smile he usually gave me when he saw me was nowhere to be seen.

“Why so soon…?”

I buried my face in my hands and sank to the ground.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Even as Sabrina, who had followed me, caused a commotion while gasping for breath, Ricardo remained motionless.

I could tell immediately that Ricardo wasn’t really here right now. After calming myself for a moment, I slowly got up.

Even as I approached to examine the drawing, he didn’t seem to notice I was beside him.

The drawing was the labyrinth itself.

Although it wasn’t complete yet, it wouldn’t take him long to finish the map.

“It’s not time yet…”

No matter how desperately I pleaded, there was no response from him. I turned my head slightly and asked Sabrina sharply.

“When did you say Justin was coming?”

“In a week.”

I quickly gathered Ricardo and the drawing he had been working on and left the place.

He quietly followed as I led him, lying down on his bed in his room. He seemed to fall asleep as soon as he lay down, his breathing quickly becoming even.

Dispersing Sabrina’s constant chatter into the air, I returned to my room alone. Only after shoving his drawing into the burning fireplace could I catch my breath.

“I have to stop this.”

But why had he started drawing the map so soon?

The Rochesters are a pillar of the Empire.

Everyone in the Empire openly claims that the imperial throne that Emperor Schneider protects only exists beneath that pillar.

Ricardo, who hadn’t even manifested his power let alone awakened it, would lose not only the map of the labyrinth but also his life to the Emperor.

Since manifestation was a power that couldn’t be hidden, once Ricardo manifested, he would immediately receive the protection of the Duke’s family. Then, even with their absolute power, it would be difficult for the Duke and Emperor to harm him.

I closed my eyes for a moment and recalled the day I died by being burned at the stake.

Every moment on the way to the execution ground existed only in fragments like a picture, but the moment of being burned to death was vivid even behind closed eyes.

There was nothing in Ricardo’s eyes when I met them just before being tied to the stake.

If there had been even a speck of warmth in those eyes, if I could just completely remove myself from his life after he returned to the Duke’s mansion in his complete form.

I had endured the terrible future and the difficult past until now with the irrational certainty that I wouldn’t die.

‘He’s only just started smiling at me…’

Not long after returning to the Duke’s mansion, a saint who would help with his manifestation would appear.

I took a moment to steady my breathing so my heart wouldn’t waver, then looked into the fireplace where only ashes remained.

If I could just hold on a little longer, the Duke’s carriage would cross the front gate of the Pennel estate.

“What could have been the problem?”

I couldn’t understand why he had started drawing the labyrinth, but one thing was certain. Neither Ricardo nor I had the power to protect the map of the labyrinth yet. So until he gained that power, I had to stop him.

* * *

It was a bizarre picture under the deep blue sky.

A skinny girl and a man as big as a mountain stood facing each other, arguing in a scene that didn’t match the luxurious landscape of the mansion.

“So what I’m saying is, just make my wrist slightly bruised, just enough that I can’t hold a brush to paint delicately, that’s all.”

It had been a time of solving immediate problems one by one as they arose. But the situation surrounding us was unfolding too rapidly.

“There aren’t many people in the world who can perform such perfect swordsmanship to that degree.”

“What if someone hears you? Swordsmanship? Call it wooden sword technique.”

Harold, a knight of the Pennel Count’s family, shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“It’s the same thing.”

“How is that the same? Anyway, it has to be the right wrist. Okay? There’s no need to do the same to the left.”

“Stop talking. You’re making me more confused.”

If Harold were just a little smaller, I might try to take him on…

“Okay, fine. So, gently, without causing pain. Got it?”

“How can breaking a wrist not be painful?”

Ah, he really doesn’t get it.

“I’m not saying to break it, just bruise it slightly. Just enough that the wrist swells a bit so I can’t paint. How many times do I have to explain?”

“For the wrist to swell enough that you can’t hold a brush, at least the wrist bone needs to be cracked.”

“R-really? Well, we have no choice then. But absolutely no injuries anywhere else.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I’m telling you, you need to know that!”

“Anyway, as someone who will become the greatest knight in the Grand Duchy of Lesotia, it’s shameful to carry out such an order, but since I’ve received something, I’ll comply.”

In fact, he hadn’t received anything. He was just volunteering to help someone.

“Yes, yes. I’m counting on you. I’ll go lure Ricardo here.”

Something about my words seemed to displease Harold again, causing him to furrow his brow as much as possible.

“What now? What’s the problem?”

“What do you mean ‘lure’? Didn’t you say this was for a good cause? Although I question whether breaking a child’s wrist can ever be considered a good deed.”

Usually, Harold was a taciturn man with quick judgment. But the man before me now seemed like a completely different person. Especially in how he interpreted others’ words as he pleased.

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s not breaking?”

Instead of repeatedly explaining my position, I decided to brazenly push forward.

“If you don’t want to see the wrist of the boy who stole bread get cut off, listen to me carefully. Got it?”