Leaving the throne room behind,
I walked down a long corridor lined with crimson carpet.
The luxurious hallway seemed endless—
until I reached a pair of grand doors at the far end.
When I pushed them open,
a vast library unfolded before me.
Towering bookshelves stretched all the way to the ceiling,
overflowing with ancient tomes and forgotten knowledge.
The quiet sound of pages turning echoed softly in the air.
At the center of the room sat a silver-haired girl.
Through the thin black frames of her glasses,
her icy blue eyes glimmered with a sharp, intelligent light—
cool, distant, yet unmistakably alive.
She gently closed the grimoire in her hands
and lifted her gaze toward me.
There was something faintly melancholic in her profile.
Before I knew it, the words slipped out of my mouth.
Still expressionless,
she tilted her head ever so slightly.
Mira:“…You’re unusual.
Most people don’t speak to me first.”
That single phrase—“unusual”—
lingered in my ears far longer than it should have.
Her voice was cool, almost indifferent,
and yet…
there was a strange gentleness woven into it.
The moment our eyes met,
a quiet ache stirred deep in my chest.
It felt as if I had stepped into her world—
a place she kept carefully walled off from everyone else.
And somehow,
I sensed that once I crossed that boundary…
there would be no turning back.
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