The Orphan Crown

Resonance Ritual (2)

Franziska flinched. Her body trembled instinctively. It was a fear that had seeped into her very soul, no longer requiring reason to control it.

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

She bowed even lower. Despite her attempts to suppress it, her voice still trembled.

Rebecca did not press the matter. She simply looked at Franziska in silence.

That silence instantly became a command.

Franziska understood that the ritual had to begin.

She took a deep breath, swallowed the unpleasant feeling in her throat, and hurried to the second round cushion placed beneath the statue of the Moon Goddess.

Franziska knelt before Rebecca, lowering her eyes to avoid her haughty gaze, then began to regulate her breathing and mood.

Rebecca did not follow. She kept her eyes open, intently observing the girl before her.

Only when Franziska closed her eyes, clasped her hands, and began her prayer did Rebecca slowly follow. Her face became calm, almost gentle. Her slender figure was enveloped in a translucent white aura, making her look both noble and fragile.

Rebecca hated that appearance the most.

But with the pride of a strong woman, she always told herself that as long as Franziska remembered her place and status, she would protect that useless little deer and ensure it lived peacefully as a noble.

The particles of light hovering in the air began to slowly gather. They formed a thin thread connecting the hearts of the two.

Rebecca finally closed her eyes, calmly waiting.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Franziska didn't know what Rebecca was thinking. She could only focus on her prayer, concentrating all her consciousness on each heartbeat in her chest.

Drops of blood from her heart slowly seeped into the thread of light, then flowed along it towards Rebecca.

As soon as the first drop of blood entered Rebecca's body, a thick, black mist suddenly appeared at the connection point on the left side of her heart.

Within that dense mist, streaks of blood-red appeared. It twisted and writhed incessantly, as if trying to shatter the bond that was forming.

Each drop of Franziska's blood that dissolved into Rebecca's body caused the black mist to flare up even more violently.

If a third person were there, they would see what was wrapped around Rebecca's heart as a black cloth being stretched taut by countless invisible hands, trying to tear it apart piece by piece.

In that instant, the irises on the wall trembled simultaneously.

There was no wind in the Prayer Room.

The thread of light between the two hearts suddenly emitted a very faint hum, exactly like the sound Franziska had heard when her fingertips touched the cluster of white flowers at the age of seven.

A thin streak of light flashed across her wrist and then disappeared.

Franziska kept her eyes closed, completely unaware. But Rebecca's eyes snapped open.

For the first time, a flicker of astonishment appeared in her pale golden gaze. For at the end of the thread connected to her heart, amidst the swirling black mist, she had just seen an image that did not belong in this room.

A broken crown.

A column of silver light pierced the night, illuminating the ground submerged in a sea of blood. And beneath that column of light, a pale purple lavender branch still shone silently, weakly but refusing to fade. The image lasted only a fleeting moment before instantly dissolving into countless specks of light. They drifted in the black mist, flickering like fragments of memories deliberately torn apart.