š°š¹āļø ā The Crown's Jewel
Rosalie Avila Beltran was the kind of person people described as "flawless" without exaggeration.
At just twelve years old, she had already mastered advanced offensive and defensive magic, bested veteran knights in sparring matches, and written essays on statecraft that scholars quoted in classrooms. Her grasp of literature, history, and diplomacy was considered far beyond her years. Even her appearance seemed crafted by nature to fit the roleāgraceful features, sharp intelligent eyes, and a presence that commanded respect without effort.
She was the undisputed crown princess. There was no one in the kingdom who doubted she would one day be a great ruler. There were no competitors, no challengers, no whispers of discontent. Everything in her life was orderly, measured, and certain.
But latelyā¦ something felt off.
āšš¤Ø ā Strange Behavior
It was a bright afternoon in the royal gardens. The air smelled of blooming roses and freshly cut grass. Rosalie sat at an elegantly set table, sipping tea while watching the butterflies drift past. Across from her sat her fiancƩ, Edmond.
Edmund was the son of a powerful duke, well-educated, skilled with a sword, and usually fiercely attentive. In the past, their meetings would be filled with him eagerly presenting gifts, offering advice on etiquette, or lecturing her (in a well-meaning but strict way) on how to maintain her dignity as a princess. He was devoted, proper, and always focused on her.
But todayā¦
Rosalie watched him stir his tea in slow, repetitive circles. His eyes were distant, fixed on nothing in particular. He hadn't said more than three words in the last ten minutes.
"Something feels different about Edmond today..." Rosalie thought to herself, setting her cup down gently.
She remembered how he used to fawn over her, bringing rare flowers or imported sweets, always making sure she was comfortable. Now, he seemed to be constantly staring somewhere far away, answering her questions with half-hearted nods or short sentences.
Rosalie waited a moment longer, then finally spoke, her voice calm and clear.
"Edmund."
He jumped slightly, nearly knocking over his cup, and snapped back to reality. He straightened his posture instantly, smoothing his coat.
"Ahāyes! Princess? What is it?" he asked, coughing lightly to cover his fluster.
Rosalie tilted her head slightly, observing him closely.
"You've been acting strange lately. Did something happen?"
Edmund's shoulders stiffened. He avoided her gaze, staring at the tablecloth instead.
"N-not at all! Everything is perfectly fine. Justā¦ thinking about some matters at home," he said quickly, though his tone lacked conviction.
"Is that so?" Rosalie leaned forward slightly, her expression unchanged. "Then care to tell me why you keep secretly staring at the fire crystal hanging inside your pocket watch?"
Edmund froze. His eyes widened in panic.
"Iā¦ Uhā¦ Umā" He stammered, unable to find an excuse.
Rosalie sighed softly, resting her chin on her hand.
"Stop making a fool out of yourself, Edmond. You know you can tell me the truth."
His shoulders slumped in defeat. He let out a long breath, looking at her with a mix of embarrassment and hesitation.
"ā¦There is a girl in the capital," he admitted quietly. "I helped her with a small problem, and she gave me this fire crystal as thanks."
Rosalie raised an eyebrow, interested now.
"A girl? What is she like?"
Edmund's expression softened, a faint smile appearing unconsciously.
"She has black hair with a single pink streakā¦ and bright pink eyes. She's clever, quick-witted, and sees things differently than anyone I've ever met."
Rosalie watched him closely.
"You sound as though you're in love."
Edmund's face turned bright red. He waved his hands frantically.
"N-no! Absolutely not! I love you, Rosalie! You're my fiancĆ©e! I would neverā" He stopped, realizing how loud he had become.
Rosalie blinked, genuinely startled.
"This is the first time I've seen you so emotional," she said softly.
Edmund froze again, realizing his outburst. He bowed his head immediately.
"I-I apologize! I didn't mean to raise my voiceā"
"It's fine," Rosalie interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. She fell silent for a moment, thinking. Then, she looked up at him with a calm, determined expression.
"I have an idea. Let's make a deal."
Edmund looked up, confused. "A deal?"
Rosalie set her teacup down with a soft clink.
"Yes. If either of us actually falls in love with someone else, we will break our engagement freely, without hard feelings."
Edmund's eyes widened in shock. "But Rosalieā¦ that could cause a stir between our families. And the courtā"
"It will be fine," Rosalie said confidently. "Think of it as a game. If either of us finds someone we truly love, it just means we weren't right for each other in the first place. Better to realize that now than later."
Edmund flinched. He looked at her face, then looked away, deep in thought.
Rosalie held out her hand across the table.
"Now thenā¦ shall we make this deal?"
Edmund looked at her hand silently, hesitating.
Then, unbidden, an image flashed in his mindāthe girl with pink eyes smiling confidently as she handed him the small crystal.
He took a deep breath, reached out, and shook her hand silently.
š¤§āļøš¢ ā A Premonition of Trouble
Meanwhile, in the depths of the Dunham estateā¦ affectionately known as "Lixia's Workshop."
Lena was busy adjusting the wiring on a newly modified ManaCool unit, checking the temperature gauges. Everything seemed to be working perfectlyāuntil suddenlyā
"ACHOO!"
She sneezed loudly, nearly dropping her screwdriver.
"Ughā¦ bless you," a voice chimed in.
Lixia popped her head out from behind a pile of blueprints and metal scraps, goggles slipping down her nose.
"What was that about? Did you inhale too much mana dust?"
Lena rubbed her nose, shaking her head.
"It's nothing. Probably just a draft."
But as she went back to work, a strange feeling settled in her chest. She frowned slightly.
"Why do I feel like something troublesome is about to happen?"
Here's the scene from Lisse's point of view:
šāØšŖ¶: The Cream That Defied Gravity
It was late in the evening at the small workshop behind Amelia's pharmacy. The oil lamps cast a warm glow over rows of neatly arranged jars and ingredients, but Paul's workbench was once again covered in notes, vials, and half-finished mixtures.
Lisse stood nearby, wiping down glassware, watching him with a mix of admiration and wariness. Since the success of the daytime serum, Paul had been working on a "Night Cream" versionāsomething richer, designed to work while people slept.
"Are you sure this one won't turn anyone into stone, Young Master?" she asked, eyeing the pale lavender mixture he was stirring.
Paul didn't look up, his brow furrowed in concentration. "The formula is stable. I've adjusted the viscosity and mana balance. It should sink in gently and nourish the skin overnight. The gravitational stabilization is just to keep the active ingredients evenly suspended."
Lisse nodded, though she still felt a prickle of unease. She'd learned the hard way that whenever Paul mentioned gravity, things rarely stayed grounded.
"Alright. But if I wake up glued to the bed, I'm hiding all your chisels," she warned playfully.
Paul offered a small, tired smile. "It's safe. I tested it on a sample leaf."
Later that night, Lisse applied a thin layer to her face and hands as instructed, then climbed into bed. It felt light and cool, smelling faintly of herbs. Maybe it really is safe this time, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.
But early the next morning, she woke up feelingā¦ strange.
There was a faint pulling sensation on her scalp.
She opened her eyes and blinked. The ceiling was much closer than it should be.
Confused, she sat upāor tried to. Her head felt strangely buoyant. Reaching up, her eyes widened in horror.
Her long silver hair wasn't resting on the pillow or her shoulders. Every single strand was floating straight upward, hovering a good foot above her head as if pulled by invisible strings. It swayed gently whenever she moved, defying gravity completely.
"By the Ancient Treesā¦" she whispered, tryingāand failingāto pat it down. The moment her hand left, it floated right back up.
She stumbled out of bed, looking like she had a shiny silver cloud hovering above her head. Even brushing her fingers through it did nothing; the strands just drifted back toward the ceiling.
"YOUNG MASTER!"
š§Ŗš„ā: Too Heavy to Handle
Downstairs in the workshop, Paul was already awake, frantically scribbling notes. When Lisse burst in, looking like a disgruntled dandelion, he didn't even look surprised.
"I see the anti-gravity effect was too strong," he said calmly.
"Too strong? Paul, I look like I'm about to take flight!" Lisse huffed, crossing her armsāwhich only made her hair sway more dramatically. "I was sleeping normally, and then I woke up halfway to the ceiling!"
Paul rubbed the back of his neck, looking apologetic. "The suspension particles must have retained too much negative weight. I'll adjust the formula. I'll increase the gravitational anchor to counteract it. Balance is the key."
Lisse sighed heavily. "Balance, you say. Please make sure it's the right amount this time."
Paul set to work immediately, mixing new ingredients and carefully recalculating the ratios. Lisse watched from the corner, trying to hold her hair down with a scarf (which, annoyingly, also wanted to float upward).
"More densityā¦ more grounding manaā¦ stabilize the coreā¦" Paul muttered to himself, adjusting his equipment.
He poured the modified mixture into the compression chamber. "Condense. Anchor."
Lisse held her breath. The air shimmered as gravity magic was appliedāa lot of gravity magic.
Suddenlyā
WHUMP-CRACK!
There was a heavy, muffled sound, like something collapsing in on itself. Dust puffed out from the workbench.
When the haze cleared, Lisse looked at the result. The mixture was gone. In its place, right in the center of the sturdy oak workbench tabletop, was a perfectly circular, smooth-sided hole. It went straight through the thick wood, the stone slab underneath, and even the iron reinforcement plates beneath that. It looked as though someone had bored a tunnel clean through with immense, concentrated force.
Paul stood there, staring at the hole, his pen still hovering in the air.
"ā¦I might have overcompensated," he said quietly.
Lisse walked over, peered down into the perfectly round opening that went deep into the floor structure, then looked back at Paul.
"Overcompensated? Young Master, you've put a hole straight through the workbench, the stone base, and the iron support beam beneath it! We can see the cellar from here!"
Paul poked the edge of the hole. It was smooth as glass. "The gravitational pull was too localized. It compressed the mixtureāand the surrounding materialāinto a singularity point before releasing. Interesting structural integrity, thoughā¦"
Lisse put her face in her hands.
š§¹š¤š§¼: Cleaning Up Again
She sighed, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle back onto her shoulders. Her hair was still trying to float, the scarf now looking like a strange hat, but she pushed it aside mentally.
"Right. Okay. Implosions and flying hair. Just another Tuesday," she muttered.
She went to fetch the broom and dustpan. As Paul continued to examine the hole with scientific curiosity, muttering about mana density and pressure differentials, Lisse began sweeping up the debris and wood dust scattered across the floor.
She moved the remaining equipment away from the damaged spot, wiped down the areas covered in residue, and carefully stacked the jars that had nearly fallen over during the minor shockwave.
"At least the hole is perfectly round. Good forā¦ uhā¦ storing pens?" Paul offered weakly.
Lisse shot him a look over her shoulder. "Don't even joke. I'm going to have to explain this to Madam Amelia. 'Sorry, the table imploded because the gravity was too strong' doesn't sound very convincing."
"She'll understand. She's a pharmacist," Paul said, though he looked slightly less sure now.
Lisse just sighed again, picking up a stray piece of metal that had been warped by the force.
"Young Master, please. Next time you play with gravity magic, could you aim for something lessā¦ structural? Or maybe just use regular weights? Like normal people?"
Paul nodded, though his eyes were already back on his notes. "I'll recalibrate. But the concept is sound. Justā¦ the execution needs refinement."
Lisse shook her head, resigned. She adjusted the scarf holding her floating hair down, grabbed the mop, and went back to cleaning.
Honestly, she thought, I signed up to be a maid. Not a janitor for a walking natural disaster.
But despite her complaints, she made sure to put his tools away neatly, leaving the new "feature" of the workshopāa perfectly circular hole through the tableāas a silent reminder of why she needed to supervise him a little closer.