A grand table had been prepared in one of the chambers, spread with a lavish feast. Dishes made by the finest chefs of the Royce family, each crafted with precision and care. Food Sophia had seen many times before. Familiar in form. Yet, for some reason, it appeared different; More vivid. More tempting. Perhaps it was the days she had spent starving.

Across the table, the prince posed a deliberately irritating question, but began eating without waiting for her answer. He tore into the meat, biting off large pieces in a manner unbecoming of nobility; Grilled vegetables were scooped by the fork-load; Freshly baked baguette was split, slathered with butter, and devoured in single bites.

There was no elegance. No etiquette. Yet it was never vulgar. Each mouthful was greedy, yet strangely captivating. The appetite on display drew the eye more than it repulsed. And still, there was beauty to it. For some reason.

“You’re awful.” Annoyance seethed behind her words.

Yet, as she sat across from the prince, her hands reached out. She grabbed a piece of bread, ripped it apart, and chewed it down, meat followed. Then vegetables shoved into her mouth without pause. Her cheeks puffed out, full. Table manners forgotten. Nobility discarded.

“Milady! What are you doing?!”

The head maid, who had entered to check on her, rushed forward in shock. Plump cheeks contorted with alarm. One hand reached roughly toward Sophia’s shoulder. She had entered expecting to scold. To correct the noble daughter’s manners, even in front of the prince. But before words could form, 

“Do not open that mouth.” The prince’s voice, sharp and cold, sliced through the room.

The maid’s expression froze mid-anger. She had not realized, she had touched food in the prince’s presence. Not to scold Sophia. But to scold her.

“If you so much as part your lips again, I will tear out your tongue and split your throat.”

The prince’s glare shimmered with threat. A gaze heavy enough to draw blood without action. The maid stepped back, trembling, unable to meet his eyes. Even in that deadly stillness, Sophia continued chewing.

Relentless and hungry. Her small mouth worked with an unbroken rhythm, cheeks now red and round; Unrefined. A scene unbecoming of her status. She had thrown away the opportunity herself. The scheme she once held, to use the prince and topple the patriarch, had already been discarded.

Now, only one petty thought remained, to spite him, to provoke. Let him curse her. Let him strike. Let him erupt. Let him declare she was mad. Let him shout.

And yet, when she looked up; mouth still stuffed, eyes gleaming. She saw no anger.

“Such fine greed.”

The prince’s expression was gentle. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips. As if pleased. As if watching a creature he had raised finally eat. Under his disheveled platinum hair, that smile glowed red like embers.

“Bring more food. Eating to live is no sin. Greed in that pursuit is not wrong.”

“Ugh…”

“So eat. Eat until you are full. But.”

As her confused gaze met his,  He swallowed another bite.

“Now that you have chosen to survive, you must choose other things for yourself as well.”

“Other things…?”

The words did not register. She asked again, dazed.

“Yes. You rejected death. Chose life. You’ve been reborn. So live as something new.”

“How do I… live like that? I don’t understand.”

“Understanding is not required. That is life.”

“Do you not understand either, Your Highness?”

“That’s why they say I’m mad.”

“…Should I go mad too?”

The question was half a joke, the prince laughed, a clear, bright laugh.She did not hate the sound. For once, she smiled back. Then he stopped, suddenly. His eyes locked onto hers.

“There is still one order you have not refused.”

“I just did. I refused suicide.”

“You refused the command of a prince. That means you can now push away the interference of others. Protect your own life. That is your remaining command. The next one comes after that.”

The meal ended.

The prince rose, stomach full.

“To reject death by devouring life. Clever refusal.” A final remark, tossed casually. Then he left.

Sophia could not respond. Her head remained bowed, food clogged her throat.

“Hrk… hhic,” Tears pushed upward, but did not fall.

The prince had made her cry, then made her laugh, then cry again.

“If only you hadn’t praised me. So cruel.”

Under the crimson sunset, the platinum-haired figure faded from the mansion gates. Her eyes shimmered, a silent vow echoed within, to follow him and to reject rejection.

For the first time,she chose for herself.Truly rejected his order.

“Milady, the Lord summons you. Cease your meal and prepare yourself immediately.”

“No. I’ll come when I’m ready. Wait.”

“…Pardon?”

“I said wait. I’ll prepare myself. Step aside.”

Defying others came easily, because they were not the prince. His command alone brought fear. Her lips curled into a full, satisfied smile.

[You have fully devoured one of the lower fate schemes against you. Significant Transformation Points acquired!]

[A fate has been entirely consumed! The one enchanted by you begins to reshape their destiny! A new fate stirs.]

Freedom tasted light. The robe had been cast aside, walking without it felt clean.

There were stares. Glances. But no recognition.No one knelt and no one bowed.

By law, even those inside buildings were to descend and show respect when a royal passed, no head above his own.

“Funny that no one notices me here.”

But the misunderstanding made sense. No one expected royalty to walk freely, without escort,without knights and without magi.

What kind of mad prince would do that? Only one.

“Could’ve walked openly all along.” The thought settled in.

Perhaps the cloak and shadows had always been unnecessary. Alfred and Andre were too zealous; Not unwelcome, but excessive. Still, where was that commoner knight?

As distance passed, the sun had long dipped below the horizon. He arrived in the sewer district by dawn. Walking the main canal eased the body. A brief grimace passed as the stench filled his nose. Then the corner of his lips lifted.

On a normal day, hostile eyes would have pierced from every alley. Tonight, silence blanketed the street. Even the rats knew, 

“Danger’s near.”

[Lower Fate: Death has drawn close. A strong malice is seeking you!]

[Significant Fate: Evil stirs. The Flame of Fate begins its hunt. Fortune leads you onward!]

The street stank of death and ill will, steps moved forward. The fire in his heart coiled and tugged, the scent of rot deepened. 

A few ignorant souls stepped in his way. They saw the madness in his eyes. The dripping killing intent. They stepped back, and the fire led him to, 

“An orphanage?”

A decrepit old building, hidden behind a rusting iron gate. Crossing the threshold, his heart thudded. Loud. Like a drum, a signal.

The vile fate he was to consume that night was there. His mouth curled upward, stretching. And then, 

“BOOM!” 

A violent explosion rocked the side of the orphanage, a figure was hurled from the blast.

“A commoner orphan?” 

Andre,  

Why was he here?