The days leading up to the imperial princess’s birthday became strangely peaceful.
At least for Amos.
Because peace around House Kyros usually meant something catastrophic was preparing itself quietly in the background.
Still every afternoon, Amos found himself walking toward Ambrosia’s room almost unconsciously.
Sometimes with books.
Sometimes with desserts.
Once with an extremely expensive-looking flower arrangement he absolutely did not just stole away.
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Why are flowers so expensive?”
“You stole rare winter moon lilies imported from the northern territories.”
“They’re still just PLANTS.”
“Luxury plants.”
“Utterly unacceptable.”
Despite his complaints, he kept bringing things anyway, as Ambrosia's room felt far too empty for a young noble girl's quarters.
Ambrosia began to change, albeit slowly. Those first few visits were still awkward. She would rise whenever he walked in, drop her gaze without thinking, and offer overly formal thanks for even the smallest gestures.
Gradually, little by little, the tension began to fade. One afternoon, Amos showed up with three novels tucked under one arm, and Ambrosia blinked in surprise at the sight of the stack.
“More?”
“For educational purposes.”
“You said that last time.”
“And I was right.”
Amos set them down on the table with pride.
“Adventurers.”
“Knights.”
“Treasure hunters.”
Ambrosia eyed the covers with curiosity.
“Why do all of these involve explosions?”
“Because the authors understand peak storytelling. The essence of art. The essence of art is an explosion!”
“That feels questionable.”
“Elena, back me up here.”
“Young Lady is correct.”
“The lack of culture inside this room sadden me very much.”
Ambrosia quietly laughed again.
Amos noticed she laughed more often these days.
Which honestly felt more rewarding than it should.
Another day.
He spotted Ambrosia dozing by the window, a book resting on her chest. Sunlight spilled over her pale hair, and the blanket was slipping from her shoulders. Amos froze in place.
“Elena.”
"Yes."
"There's an angel in this room—quick, hide her before she's taken back to heaven."
"Young Master is being dramatic again."
"She looks like one of those paintings nobles pay absurd amounts for. I will pay a large amount of money for this moment to be preserved"
“That is because Young Lady is beautiful.”
“She is perfect.”
Elena nodded calmly.
“Indeed.”
Amos gently adjusted the blanket over Ambrosia before quietly taking a seat nearby, choosing not to wake her. He stared at her in silence for a moment, then quickly looked away. Dangerous. That kind of emotional damage was dangerous.
Another afternoon, Ambrosia was waiting for him before he even knocked.
The moment the door opened—
“You’re late.”
Amos froze.
Then slowly looked toward Elena.
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Did she just complain?”
“Yes.”
Amos placed a hand over his chest dramatically.
“She is starting to wait for me.”
“That is generally considered healthy.”
“I’m so proud.”
Ambrosia immediately looked embarrassed afterward.
“I-I only meant…”
“No, no.”
Amos waved a hand solemnly.
“This is excellent.”
“Young Lady now expects Young Master to visit.”
Ambrosia’s face immediately turned red.
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Record this moment as an important day in my autobiography.”
“No.”
One evening, Amos decided to bring the tea himself, which turned out to be a mistake, as he once again forgot his own strength.
CRACK.
The teacup handle shattered instantly in his hand.
Silence.
Amos stared at the broken porcelain.
Then at Ambrosia.
“That was on accident.”
Ambrosia covered her mouth quickly.
Amos heard the laugh.
“You laughed.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Unbelievable.”
“That was very funny,” she admitted quietly.
Amos pointed accusingly.
“You’re starting to change.”
“Is that bad?”
He paused slightly.
Then smiled.
“No. I am very happy for you”
And that simple answer made Ambrosia smile too.
The servants throughout the estate slowly began noticing the pattern.
The troublesome Young Master Kyros spent nearly every afternoon visiting the Young Lady.
Every time he left, Ambrosia’s smile grew a little wider. Even Elena couldn’t help but notice. One morning, as she trailed behind Amos down the corridor, she spoke softly.
“Young Lady no longer tremble as much in your presence.”
Amos slowed slightly.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Silence settled briefly.
“That’s good.”
Just genuine relief.
Elena glanced at him quietly.
“Young Master has changed as well.”
Amos immediately looked offended.
“I was always perfect.”
“Yes.”
“That sounded sarcastic.”
“It was.”
By the final week before the banquet—
Ambrosia no longer looked frightened whenever the Imperial Palace was mentioned.
Whenever anxiety arose, Amos met it with absolute confidence.“If someone insults you, I’ll make them regret it.”
“That is not proper response.”
“It is House Kyros etiquette.”
“I do not think that’s true.”
“It has always been like that.”
The night before the banquet, Amos showed up again with yet another stack of books in his arms. Ambrosia gazed at the towering pile, utterly incredulous.
“How many books do you own?”
Amos looked genuinely confused by the question.
“A normal amount?”
“Miss Elena.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“The Young Master’s private library occupies an entire floor.”
Silence.
Ambrosia slowly looked toward Amos.
“Entire floor?”
“In my defense, literature is cool.”
“That is too many books.”
“There is no such thing.”
After a brief pause, Amos noticed something. The book in Ambrosia’s hands was no longer held protectively—it now rested there with ease. Naturally, as if she had finally allowed herself to simply enjoy it.
“Ambrosia.”
She looked up from her book.
“Yes?”
“After the banquet tomorrow, do you want to go shopping?”
Silence.
Ambrosia blinked once.
“Shopping?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Amos looked around the room.
“For your stuff.”
“My stuff?”
“This room is too empty.”
Ambrosia took a slow look around. The room was undeniably bare—just a few books, a blanket, and some neatly folded clothes. Not a single personal touch. Nothing that truly felt lived in.
Amos frowned slightly.
“It looks like a guest room.”
Another silence followed.
Then Ambrosia lowered her eyes quietly.
“I do not really own many things.”
The way she said it—so casual, so matter-of-fact—made something tighten ever so slightly in Amos’s chest.
Right.
She must have grown up with almost nothing, probably being taken away often.
Amos leaned back with a sigh.
“Well, that sounds fixable.”
Ambrosia blinked.
“What?”
“We’re going shopping after the banquet.”
“We?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
Amos looked genuinely confused.
“Because you need things.”
“I already have necessities.”
“That is different.”
He pointed toward the empty corners of the room.
“You more need decorations.”
“Decorations?”
“Maybe some plants.”
“I might kill them.”
“Understandable. We’ll buy resilient plants plus you can ask Elena for help.”
Ambrosia stared quietly as Amos continued counting dramatically on his fingers.
“More books.”
“You already gave me many books.”
“There is no such thing as enough books.”
Ambrosia laughed softly again.
“Blankets.”
“I already have blankets.”
“Better blankets.”
“Candles.”
“I do not need candles.”
“Maybe I want to set the moods here using candles.”
“That is not a real thing.”
“It absolutely is.”
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Back me up.”
“No.”
Ungrateful maid.
Amos crossed his arms.
“The point is your room should actually feel like your room.”
Silence settled quietly afterward.
Ambrosia looked around slowly again.
“I never really thought about it before.”
Amos’s expression eased slightly.
“Now you have all the time to think about it.”
Her fingers tightened faintly around the edge of her teacup.
“You would really pay for it?”
Amos immediately looked offended.
“Ambrosia.”
“Yes?”
“We are a Kyros.”
That somehow explained absolutely nothing and everything simultaneously.
“We literally have stacks on stacks of gold.”
“That still sounds absurd.”
“It is absurd.”
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Would Father notice if some gold disappeared?”
“No.”
“Wonderful.”
“He would notice Young Master specifically.”
“Less wonderful.”
Ambrosia lowered her gaze again quietly.
“I don’t really know what I would buy.”
“That’s the best part.”
She blinked.
“What is?”
“You get to figure it out.”
Amos leaned forward slightly.
“People will know when they see.”
“That sounds oddly philosophical.”
“It’s true.”
He gestured around dramatically.
“Some people like paintings.”
“Elena likes knives. Weirdly enough.”
“I do,” Elena confirmed calmly.
“See?”
“That example did not help.”
“The point is eventually you’ll see something and think....”
Amos paused before pointing toward her book.
“I want that.’”
Ambrosia looked down at the novel instinctively.
“Am I allowed to?”
Amos froze. The room fell silent. Allowed. Such a tiny word yet hearing her ask it so cautiously like wanting something meant needing approval sparked a strange irritation in him.
Not at her.
At the people who taught her to think that way.
He answered immediately.
“Yes.”
“You’re allowed to want things.”
Ambrosia stared at him silently.
Then slowly lowered her gaze again.
“Okay.”
“Besides,” he added quickly, “if we don’t buy anything, I’ll look suspicious wandering around the capital staring at expensive objects.”
“That will happen regardless,” Elena said.
“True.”
Ambrosia smiled faintly into her teacup.
Then after a moment—
“Can we buy more books?”
Amos froze dramatically.
Then slowly placed a hand over his heart. She is way too precious.
“I WILL BUY THE WHOLE BOOKSHOP IF YOU WANT TO!”