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Side story (Behind the Scenes Part 1)

  Daisy POV

  {Author Note: This is right after the Dragon Incident.}

  I sat in my room, surrounded by piles of reports detailing the chaos left in the wake of Evangeline’s... well, frenzy was putting it lightly.

  Paper after paper documented the damage. Scorched walls. Shattered defenses. A few craters where there definitely shouldn’t be craters. And somehow, despite all that—

  No casualties.

  I leaned back in my chair, exhaling a long, relieved sigh. No one had died. And that was thanks to Evan, reckless as he may be. Some citizens had taken hits during the goblin raid, sure—but most had fled straight to Evan’s house, which, ironically, had become the safest place in the kingdom during the chaos.

  The only real damage? A few singed structures and some bruised, grumpy soldiers now nursing wounds and egos. Could’ve been so much worse.

  I picked up a pen and absently tapped it against the edge of my desk, staring at the last page of the report.

  We really should invest in better defenses… Just like Evangie always tells me. “Proactive prevention prevents flaming goblins from crash-landing in your throne room,” or however she phrases it. She’s always nagging about shields and traps and magic sensors. Maybe it’s time I actually listened.

  I had forced her to rest after the battle. She wanted to help clean up, insisted on it with that same intense spark in her eyes—but I wouldn’t let her. Not now. She’d done more than enough, and honestly? She needed to stop pushing herself like she was the only one holding the world together.

  I turned back to my desk and started scribbling out notes—compensation forms, reconstruction plans, and the big one: how to properly reward Evan without also encouraging more… havoc that he creates.

  That’s when I heard a knock at the door.

  “Who is it?” I called without looking up.

  “Your Highness, it’s me—Semil. A letter has arrived for you. From King Gabriel.”

  From Father?

  “Come in,” I said.

  The door creaked open, and in stepped Semil—tall, broad-shouldered, and somehow still standing like a knight despite being old enough to lecture the walls about ‘back in his day.’

  Without a word, he walked to my desk, handed me the letter, and turned on his heel, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

  The letter bore the seal of Etalethine: a grand castle framed by twin towers, wax pressed in deep emerald green. That crest meant the letter was definitely from either Father or Mother.

  I stared at it for a moment, then took a deep breath and broke the seal.

  Dear Daisy,

  This is your father, King Gabriel.

  I recently heard of the goblin attack and Evangeline’s... outburst against the Kingdom.

  Your mother and I are very worried about your health.

  Why don’t you spend some time here with your family?

  —King Gabriel

  I stared at the parchment, heart a little quieter now.

  So... he was just worried about me.

  No commands. No reprimands. No subtle political power plays.

  Just... my father, asking me to come home.

  Thank goodness he didn’t ask me to bring Evangie—or worse, replace her. That would’ve been a diplomatic disaster wrapped in emotional trauma.

  Instead, I wrote a letter back, politely informing Father that I would visit in a few days… alone.

  *A Few Days Later*

  The gentle clatter of wheels filled the air as my personal carriage rolled through the forested path leading toward Etalethine. Trees lined the road like silent guardians, their branches rustling with the wind.

  Inside the carriage, I sat across from Trish, our ever-reliable wall of steel. Outside, a handful of soldiers rode along on horseback, keeping a close perimeter.

  “You know, it would've been fine for me to travel alone,” I said, giving him a sideways glance. “You’re needed back at the castle to help everyone else.”

  Oh, and in case it wasn’t obvious—I left Evangie in charge during my absence. She wasn’t thrilled about it, but someone had to hold the reins, and despite everything, she’s dependable when it matters most.

  Trish, ever the loyal knight, frowned slightly. “Your Highness, forgive my rudeness, but it’s far too dangerous. Besides, I only brought a small escort. Enough to protect you, not overwhelm you.”

  I sighed, but smiled. “Thanks, Trish.”

  It was always a bit awkward being alone with Trish—not because he was unpleasant, but because he rarely spoke unless duty demanded it. Lately though, he’d begun to open up just a little. There was something quietly comforting about that.

  So, I decided to nudge the silence.

  “I’m really glad the elves and humans can live in harmony now,” I said softly. “But more than anything, I’m glad you allowed that to happen.”

  He was quiet at first. Then, with a thoughtful look, he murmured, “I was stupid back then.”

  The carriage rumbled quietly as we rode on.

  “…Stupid and childish,” he continued, his voice quieter this time. “I let my rage and hatred take control of me… I’m just glad I got the chance to fix it.”

  And then, for the first time in what felt like forever, Trish smiled—a small, real smile that made his usually stern face look almost... peaceful.

  “And I’m glad I got to meet the elves,” he added.

  That made me smile too. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching someone heal—seeing someone who once carried so much anger finally find peace.

  “It really is a great feeling,” I said, “when the people you care about are finally happy.”

  The rest of the trip passed in a gentle calm. After a few more hours, the towers of Etalethine’s Castle finally came into view, rising high above the golden hills like something out of a storybook.

  The kingdom was massive, even after entering the kingdom and going on top speeds, it still took the carriage a couple hours just to reach the main Castle.

  As the carriage rolled to a stop, I stepped out and took it all in.

  Father’s castle was ten times the size of mine—and a hundred times more beautiful. White stone towers stretched into the sky, covered with ivy and blooming flowers, and wide courtyards shimmered with enchanted fountains. It was the kind of place that reminded you who held the crown.

  I brushed the dust from my cloak, straightened myself, and walked through the grand gates of my childhood home.

  A soldier quickly approached, stopping just short of a salute.

  “Prince— I mean, Queen Daisy. King Gabriel awaits your presence in his chambers.”

  Ah. Seems some of the guards still remembered me as the wide-eyed princess who used to sneak out of the castle kitchens for late-night snacks. But even so, they addressed me with the proper respect of a queen now.

  His chambers, huh?

  “Alright. Please escort us,” I said with a nod.

  Sure, I knew the way—could probably find that room with my eyes closed—but walking through the halls of the royal palace with a local escort made things look official. Less suspicion. Fewer whispers.

  When we arrived at the familiar doors, I turned to Trish and the others.

  “Wait outside for now.”

  They nodded without a word. I stepped forward and knocked.

  “Who is it?” came a deep, familiar voice from the other side.

  “It’s me—Queen Daisy. I’ve come to visit.”

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  The door flung open before I could even blink—and suddenly, I was wrapped in a very firm, very mom-shaped hug.

  “Thank goodness you’re safe! Hurry up, come in!” Mother said, already pulling me inside by the wrist like I was still ten.

  “Woah!” I stumbled through the doorway.

  Then came the second wave: Father’s booming voice.

  “Daisy!”

  Before I could say anything, he was hugging me too—now sandwiched between both of my parents.

  “Do you know how worried your mother’s been?” he said as he pulled back, though he kept a hand gently on my shoulder.

  They always worry too much.

  I looked at them—really looked at them—for the first time in a while.

  Mother’s once perfectly pink, strawberry-fountain hair now carried faint strands of white, and the edges of her face were touched with fine lines—laugh lines, mostly. She was still beautiful, of course, but time had softened her glow into something gentler.

  Father had gone almost entirely grey. What remained of his original pink hair clung stubbornly to streaks near his temples. His once-commanding expression was now calmer, wearier—but there was still that regal sharpness in his eyes.

  They looked older.

  But they were still them.

  Still home.

  “Hehe… I’m back,” I said with a smile.

  Once the hugging marathon ended, we sat down together in the cozy lounge area of the chamber. Sunlight filtered in through the stained-glass windows, painting soft colors over the carpet as we caught up on everything.

  They had stories of court gossip, festival preparations, and some of the events that were about to start in the Kingdom.

  I shared my own updates—starting with the peaceful alliance I forged with the elves, which earned me stunned silence and blinking disbelief. Then I told them about the goblin army attack... and Evangeline’s frenzy.

  That part didn’t go over as smoothly.

  Mother gripped my hand tightly. Father rubbed his chin with that classic furrowed brow he wore whenever someone brought him bad news. Their concern was obvious, but they didn’t interrupt.

  And finally, I told them about Evan.

  About how he saved everyone. About the chaos, yes—but also the way he rose above it.

  They listened. Really listened.

  And for the first time in a while, I felt like just their daughter again—not a queen, not a leader, not the one carrying everything on her shoulders.

  Just... Daisy.

  “Hmm… We should also reward him for saving our daughter,” Mother said thoughtfully, tapping her finger against her chin. Then her eyes flicked to me. “Daisy, tell me—what does he like?”

  I winced a little, already knowing how this would go. “Umm… it’s kind of pointless to reward him with anything fancy. I did ask him once if he wanted something, and he just shrugged and said, ‘Leave it. You wouldn’t have what I want, so how about some money instead?’”

  “Money, huh?” Mother repeated, as if testing the word for hidden meaning. “That can be arranged... right, Father Gabriel?”

  The way she said it.

  So soft.

  So sweet.

  So absolutely menacing.

  Even I felt a chill run down my spine—and I wasn’t even the target.

  Father cleared his throat so violently I thought he might hack up his soul. “Ahem—cough— Of course! Yes, absolutely. You have my word!”

  After that little moment of marital diplomacy, we shifted into more casual conversation. They told me about what had been happening around the kingdom lately—routine royal duties, mostly.

  But one piece of news actually caught me off guard.

  Apparently... a Hero had taken up residence in the castle.

  At first, my parents had been understandably cautious—just because someone says they’re a Hero doesn’t mean they are. But after witnessing her powers firsthand, there was no doubt. She really was one of the chosen.

  Her name?

  Aisha Langford.

  Maybe I should talk to her, relate myself to her?

  But they way how my parents were speaking about her, reminded me of how I thought about Evan. I wonder what would happen if they both met?

  We kept talking, letting the hours slip by, until there was a knock at the door.

  “Father, it’s me. Queen Isabella,” came a voice from outside.

  I blinked.

  Isabella? Big Sister!?

  What was she doing here?

  Isabella’s the firstborn—the heir who came before all of us. Then there’s my brother Lars, and finally me, the youngest. We didn’t see each other often. She ran her own kingdom and preferred to stay buried in politics and high society events. We were family, sure, but not exactly... close.

  The door opened slowly, and in walked Isabella, she had the family signature Long pink hair, as well as, she was tall, regal, graceful… and yes, still with that giant forehead and tragically flat chest she refused to acknowledge.

  “Oh, hey, Daisy,” she said with her usual neutral tone, hiding her face behind a paper fan. “The news I heard about your kingdom was quite astonishing, but I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

  Her presence always had this strange weight to it, like she was judging the very oxygen in the room. Our relationship wasn’t bad exactly—we just didn’t really have one. She was always far too busy being a full-time ruler to do anything as trivial as visit.

  “Father,” Isabella said, turning her gaze to him. “Why have you summoned me?”

  He smiled—tired, but warm. “It’s been a while. I just wanted all of us together again… like old times.”

  “Hang out?” Isabella echoed, voice sharpening like a blade hidden behind the fan. “Are you telling me I traveled all the way from my kingdom because of your urgent letter… and it was just to hang out?”

  “Precisely,” Father replied, completely unfazed, like he’d just confirmed the sky was blue.

  “I—” Isabella opened her mouth, no doubt ready to launch into a royal-grade rant—

  But then, a knock interrupted the drama.

  “This is Chara,” came a calm, composed voice from the hallway. “I have some important news regarding our ‘Hero,’ Aisha, that I would like to report to His Highness.”

  “This impudent mai—” Isabella snapped, already offended that someone dared interrupt her moment.

  But one look from Father—just one glare—froze her mid-sentence. She clamped her mouth shut so fast I swear I heard her pride crack.

  “…Come in,” Father said simply.

  The door opened, and in walked a maid with a posture so straight and a presence so commanding, she could’ve passed for a knight if not for the pristine uniform. Her face was calm, mature, but you could tell she didn’t mince words.

  She bowed low. “Please excuse my rudeness.”

  Father nodded. “Alright. What is it?”

  “It seems Madam Aisha has a... very close friend who arrived earlier today,” Chara began. “He hasn’t caused any disturbance, but Madam Aisha treats him as an equal. At times, she even seems to view him as above herself.”

  The room fell completely silent.

  Everyone blinked.

  Even Isabella lowered her cup slowly, eyebrows arching in visible intrigue.

  “…Who is this person?” Father asked.

  Chara didn’t hesitate. “She calls him Evan.”

  HUH!?

  No. No, there’s no way.

  It can’t be.

  Evan hates work, He won’t relate himself to a hero—

  “He’s a demi-human,” Chara continued. “From the Silver-Daemon Tribe. White hair, crystal-like blue eyes.”

  IT’S TRUUUUUUUEEEEEEEE?!?!?!?!?!

  I froze. Absolutely petrified. My soul momentarily left my body and hovered over my head, looking down in disbelief.

  Father and Mother, meanwhile, looked mildly curious—but hadn’t connected the dots. I had, of course, neglected to mention what Evan looked like.

  “They’re currently making their way to the Coliseum,” Chara added. “It seems this ‘Evan’ intends to qualify for the Professional Grandmaster title—just like Madam Aisha.”

  My father looked down in deep thought, “I… See, Alright. You’re dismissed.”

  Chara gave a quick bow and silently left the room, closing the door behind her.

  At that moment, From the corner of my eye, I caught it.

  Isabella.

  Smiling.

  The rare, slow, scheming kind of smile that usually meant she was about to dive into political chaos with the grace of a swan and the savagery of a vulture.

  “Very well, Father,” She said, closing the fan in her hand, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I accept your invitation to spend time together as a family. But first… I want to see this ‘Evan’ for myself. I must admit—I’m intrigued.”

  “Oh… okay then,” Father said, blinking. “I suppose... we can all head to the Coliseum.”

  *Sometime later*

  We were seated in the VIP section of the coliseum, high above the crowds, shaded under a grand awning embroidered with the royal crest. Velvet cushions softened the stone benches, and enchanted glass panels filtered the sunlight into warm, golden hues. It was the best view in the house—and yet I couldn’t focus at all.

  Down below, a battle was already in full swing between a dark magician named Itla and some other poor soul, but my eyes kept darting to the edge of the arena, scanning for a very specific someone.

  Where is he?

  Evan still hadn’t come out yet, and I was a swirling ball of nerves. Should I say something? Should I tell everyone that the Evan they’re about to see is the Evan—the one who saved us? The one who somehow juggles being chaotic, mysterious, and weirdly competent all at once?

  Or should I stay quiet?

  GAHHHH I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!

  {Author’s Note: Listen, lady. It’s better if you don’t. But we all know what you’re gonna do.}

  While I was busy arguing with myself in my head, the fight ended. The crowd erupted in polite applause as the two duelists bowed and exited the arena.

  And then, finally—finally—Evan stepped forward, walking between a robed magician and the referee, looking completely casual like he wasn’t about to blow up half the coliseum with his unpredictability.

  Father squinted, then leaned forward slightly. “Hmm… That white-haired one must be Evan, based on Chara’s description.”

  He turned to glance at me—just as Evan spotted us and started waving enthusiastically.

  I panicked and waved back like my arm had a mind of its own.

  And that was it.

  That one wave was all it took for all three heads—Father, Mother, and Isabella—to slowly turn toward me in stunned silence.

  “How do you know this Evan, Daisy?” Mother asked, her voice way too calm to be casual.

  “O-oh! Umm…” I stammered, frantically trying to string together a believable lie. “He came to the castle once, when he was having some trouble with the Adventurer’s Guild! Haha…”

  Silence.

  They all stared at me.

  Three generations of noble blood, trained in political deception and royal judgment, giving me a synchronized look that screamed, ‘That’s a lie and we all know it.’

  But to their credit, they didn’t call me out. Not yet.

  Still, my brain kept racing.

  If Aisha sees Evan as her equal… then doesn’t that mean he’s also a Hero?

  But… no way, right?

  Knowing Evan, he’d run from paperwork like it was a dragon. He doesn’t exactly scream “chosen one.” But… those insane magical defenses around his house. That Dryad I met. The way he handled the goblin raid without breaking a sweat…

  Could he actually be one?

  While my brain was spiraling into the conspiracy vortex, the announcer’s voice echoed through the coliseum, breaking my train of thought.

  {Author Note: This outta be Good.}

  “On my left!” the referee called out, his voice booming across the coliseum, amplified by magic. “Fodel Oxborn—scion of the renowned Water Magician family! Ranked as a Beginner Master!”

  A wave of cheers erupted from the crowd. People stood and applauded, some chanting Fodel’s name like he was the reigning champion of a seasonal anime arc.

  Then the referee turned to the other side of the arena.

  “And on my right… a mysterious newcomer who seemingly dropped into the kingdom out of thin air. We know almost nothing about him, except that he’s a close friend of our Hero, Madam Aisha…”

  There was a slight pause as the referee squinted at the paper in his hand.

  “And his name is…”

  I blinked. A tingle ran down my spine.

  The referee’s expression suddenly darkened. He looked like he’d just read a curse.

  I have a very bad feeling about this.

  “...Big Dick Richard!”

  The arena went dead silent for exactly two seconds.

  Then chaos.

  {Author’s Note: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!}

  The crowd erupted in stunned disbelief, laughter, and wild hollering. Someone dropped their drink. A noblewoman fainted. Two kids somewhere in the back repeated the name way too enthusiastically.

  I, meanwhile, entered a full existential shutdown.

  I stared at the referee.

  Then at Evan, who was waving innocently to the crowd like this was completely normal.

  It wasn’t.

  This was the exact opposite of normal.

  With my soul escaping my body for the second time today, I slowly—very slowly—slid underneath the VIP table like a slug retreating into its shame shell.

  “Uhh… Daisy,” Father said, peeking under the tablecloth. “We can still see you.”

  My voice came out flat, void of all emotion. “No. You can’t. I am the dust. The dust does not speak.”

  “…Oh. Um. Okay then,” Father said, backing away like I might actually be having a breakdown.

  Which, to be fair, I kind of was.

  What do you guys think about the side stories?

  


  


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