The orb pulsed brighter—its soft light resembling slow, steady breathing.

  I took it into my palm.

  Words surfaced inside:

  “How are you, Zen?

  Did the message arrive?

  Time of sending by our clock — 20:30.”

  I reflexively glanced at the wall clock in the room.

  21:00.

  A half-hour delay.

  I thought quietly:

  I hope they don’t tire themselves out writing to me…

  But Elinia was already standing beside me, leaning in closer than etiquette allowed.

  “Is that… a message?”

  “From your parents?”

  “How do you… communicate?”

  “What kind of magic is this?”

  Her voice wasn’t sharp—just surprised. Pure. Too genuine for a princess.

  I quickly typed a reply:

  “Everything’s fine. Time is 21:00.”

  Then I poured mana into the orb—just enough for the message to go instantly.

  Elinia gasped, as if she’d seen a trick.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  “You just—”

  “You wrote, and it left?”

  “Zen, that’s… that’s incredible!”

  I slowly turned toward her.

  She was staring as if trying to see a thread stretched between worlds.

  “They have… another orb?”

  “And mana flows… along that thread?”

  “Explain. Please.”

  I sighed—I knew there was no dodging this.

  So I answered honestly.

  “Between the two orbs… there’s a thin connecting thread.”

  “It’s almost invisible.”

  “When a message is sent, mana travels through it.”

  “The first impulse carries the letters.”

  “The second forms the shell.”

  “If there isn’t enough mana, the message will tear—or arrive with a long delay.”

  She listened carefully.

  Too carefully.

  “That’s why messages from my parents take longer,” I continued.

  “They don’t pour in much mana. They… just write.”

  Elinia nodded—just a little.

  Then she said softly:

  “Give me one like that.”

  I understood immediately—this was where every word mattered.

  “No,” I said calmly.

  “It can’t be done. It’s… unstable.”

  “And too dangerous if it falls into the wrong hands.”

  She stepped closer.

  “But if you gave this to the Kingdom, Zen…”

  “It would be a technological breakthrough.”

  “Instant communication.”

  “Transmission of thoughts.”

  “Commanding armies at a distance…”

  For the first time, I felt my stomach tighten coldly at her words.

  I understood the breakthrough too.

  And how many disasters it could bring.

  So—

  I turned fully to face her.

  “Elinia.

  This will appear.

  Someday.

  But not now.”

  She looked straight into my eyes.

  I continued:

  “An invention like this must enter the world slowly.”

  “And only when people are ready.”

  “And when it can be controlled.”

  “Otherwise… too many sick ideas will be born in the minds of those who should never hold such power.”

  She was silent for a long time.

  And for the first time…

  She didn’t look at me like a princess.

  Not like a rival.

  Not like the Witch of Wind.

  But like a person who knows how to listen.

  Then she said quietly:

  “Alright.

  I won’t tell anyone.”

  No shouting.

  No offense.

  No huffing.

  Just… a promise.

  And for the first time, I felt it clearly:

  She really would keep this secret—

  and judging by her eyes, it wouldn’t be her first.