When Jack stepped onto the terrace, the world seemed to still.
The soft creak of the door faded behind him, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.
Above, the moonless sky stretched vast and endless, a velvet canvas scattered with stars. Their cold, distant glow shimmered faintly, barely enough to touch the world below. But the terrace came alive under the warm flicker of candlelight—small flames cradled in ornate holders, swaying gently in the evening breeze like fireflies caught mid-dance.
And in the center of it all—she stood.
Seraphine.
Draped in a gown the color of the night itself, deep and endless, the fabric shimmered faintly with every breath of wind. It clung and flowed like liquid shadow, the folds catching candlelight as if the stars themselves had nestled in the seams. The night had dressed her, cloaked her in elegance that felt both untouchable and dangerous.
Her long brown hair, tied into a high ponytail, swayed with the wind—graceful, effortless, alive.
She stood at the edge of the terrace, one hand resting gently on the marble railing, the other holding a delicate glass of red wine. Her crimson eyes, twin embers burning beneath her lashes, stared into the swirling liquid with a calm, unreadable intensity. The wine twirled lazily, catching slivers of light like liquid ruby.
She hadn't noticed him yet. Or maybe she had—and chose not to show it.
Jack's breath caught.
That image—her figure illuminated by stars and flame, the wind toying with her dress and hair, her eyes locked in quiet contemplation—seared itself into his mind like a brand.
His ears rang with the pounding of his own heart, each beat loud and thunderous, as if the storm had moved inside him.
He forced a breath.Then another.Trying to calm the fire spreading through his chest.
After steadying himself, Jack stepped forward, his footsteps slow, deliberate. He moved toward the railing—toward her—and took his place beside the princess.
The wind, mischievous as ever, shifted its course.
And with it came a sudden wave of fragrance—soft, sweet, and unmistakably hers.A gentle, rosy scent that clung to the air like silk.The heart he had just brought under control stirred again, thundering against his ribcage as if it sought to escape.
He clenched his jaw subtly, struggling to contain the storm raging within.Outwardly, his face remained calm. Composed. Masked.But inside… it was chaos.
"Greetings, Your Highness," Jack said at last.
His voice—steady and firm—carried no trace of the turmoil within.He turned slightly, letting his gaze fall upon her just as the candlelight caught her features once more.
"Tonight," he continued, his words slow and deliberate, "you shine like the moon in this moonless sky."
Seraphine looked at him.Her gaze lingered—just a moment too long—locked with his.
Jack felt his already unsteady heart leap into chaos.And then—She smiled.
And everything stopped.The storm, the pounding, the confusion—gone.His heart skipped, paused… then slowly settled back into his chest, louder than ever—but now its beats were calm. Rhythmic. Certain.
In that moment, under the flickering candlelight and the quiet witness of stars,Jack knew.
It was game over.
All his previous thoughts—his cautious schemes, his suspicions, his worries about her true intentions—erased one by one.
The question of why she had come here, the weight of their impending future, the shadows of doom that had loomed over his mind—all of it faded, like fog swept away by a gentle wind.
The meeting came to an end and Jack hadn't even noticed.
He had so many questions,each carefully woven into casual conversation,but all of them had evaporated with just one smile.
Their talk had flowed smoothly, like a quiet river. Even Seraphine hadn't brought up politics,so their conversation remained light—casual.Jack had shared his hobbies, especially reading,which surprisingly matched hers.
They spent the next hour chatting comfortably about novels and stories,as if they had known each other far longer than they truly had.
When it was finally over and Jack returned to his room,the reality he had forgotten came crashing back.
The fear of an uncertain future , one he had briefly escaped tightened around his once-jolly heart like a cold iron grip.
He stood there for a moment… silent.Then, without a word, he walked to the bed and fell asleep moments later.Worrying wouldn't fix anything tonight and it was already far late into the night .
The next morning, the first thing Jack did after waking up was arrange a meeting with Seraphine for the afternoon.
Afterward, he followed his usual routine, then made his way to the training room.
Sitting cross-legged, he summoned flame into existence , no incantation, just intent.
It still took time—but he believed that with more practice,he could cast spells instantly.
For now, his focus was power and practical use.
He already had some ideas in mind, like attempting a second-grade spell Fireball.
Time flew by as his attemps faiiiield one after another no mater how much mana he poured flame only grew fierce and did not concentrate into fire ball may be pouring raw mana wasnt the way forward .
he had just like how spark grew into fire with just pouring additonl mana , it would be the same .
but now he understood that was not way forward , his hand grabbed the old book that lay on shelf nearby , fliping its pages jack came to third chapter 'Control '.
as he was about immersr himself into the new chapter a knock was rung on the door
it was already time for his meeting with princess , before closing himself in traing room jack had told one of the gurds to gently knock on the door just half hour before his shedulded meeting
keeping the book back on the shelf , he left the traing room making beeline towards his chamber , it took only few minutes for him to get ready unlike before this time he didnt wish to be late .
Time flew by as his attempts failed—one after another.
No matter how much mana he poured in,the flame only grew fiercer,wild and unruly,but it refused to concentrate into a proper fireball.
Maybe…just pouring raw mana wasn't the way forward.
He had assumed it would work—just like how Spark grew into Fire by simply feeding it more mana.But this…this was different.
Now he understood—that wasn't the right path.
His hand reached for an old book resting on a nearby shelf.He flipped through its pages until he reached the third chapter.
'Control.'
As he was about to dive into its contents—a soft knock echoed on the door.
It was already time.
Before locking himself in the training room,Jack had instructed one of the guardsto give him a gentle reminderhalf an hour before his scheduled meeting with the princess.
With a reluctant sigh,he placed the book back on the shelfand left the training room.
This time,he made a beeline straight to his chambers.
It only took a few minutes for him to get ready.Unlike before—he didn't intend to be late.