1 I am Ageless, bound to Isabella Stuart by a cosmic debt—fulfill her hundred wishes to go home. Her first wish? To be her man. For three years, I stayed nameless, guiding her through womanhood, sharing intimate nights. Every wish after was just for me to smile more. Then, under sky lanterns, she made her 96th wish: "Never be apart." Days later, she erased me from Blackwood Manor. As I stood in the snow, she told her friends: "Don’t let Alistair know I ever loved another. I’ve loved him since childhood—if he hadn’t left as a royal ward, I’d never have needed a stand-in." Her gaze hardened. "Now the emperor’s dead, Alistair returns. I’ll marry him, no regrets." "But Raphael?" Lady Beatrice asked, draping her shawl over me. "After three years, you’ll just cast him out?" Isabella scoffed. "The true master returns; the stand-in disappears. Take him if you pity him." Everyone knew Beatrice only befriended Isabella for me. Once, a glance from Beatrice drew Isabella’s wrath: "Stay away from him." Now? She didn’t care. I was just a stand-in. The other ladies fell silent. Lady Beatrice turned to me, extending a hand. "Raphael, would you come with me?" Her gaze was filled with deep affection, and beside her, Isabella couldn't resist a sneer. "Shall we make a wager?" she challenged. "I bet Raphael Clermont is so utterly devoted to me that he wouldn't dream of leaving." The woman's eyes glittered with mockery, all warmth gone. I swallowed the acidic sorrow in my throat, returning the shawl. Understanding my unspoken meaning, Lady Beatrice lowered her gaze and departed, not forgetting to murmur, "My apologies for the presumption." As the heavy snow fell, Isabella smiled. "I knew it, you can't leave me." Then, her tone sharp, "But Raphael Clermont, I'm quite tired of you now. Just disappear, and stay gone." With that, she moved to board her carriage, her heart already with the beloved returning to the capital. But I had already caught her sleeve, looking up to ask, "Just days ago, you wished for me to stay with you forever." I tightened my grip. "Now you tell me to leave. Does this count as your ninety-seventh wish?" Hearing this, Isabella spun around, her eyes glacial. "I'm bored with this! How could I possibly play along with your hundred-wish 'debt repayment' game?" Finishing her words, she yanked her sleeve from my grasp, her mouth twisted with undisguised disdain. "Besides, you just said it's the ninety-seventh. If it's not a full hundred, won't you still come bothering me?" She scoffed. "I don't have time for such an absurd game." I stubbornly seized her sleeve again, my gaze utterly earnest. "This isn't a game." No one knew I was an Ageless. Originally, I was meant to mature within my clan for a century before venturing into the world. But an avalanche separated me from my kin. At sixteen, still uninitiated, I blindly clawed my way out of the deep snow. Days without food left me collapsing from hunger the moment I saw the first sliver of light. In my daze, I ate the bread roll Isabella offered me. Thus, I incurred a cosmic debt to her. Elder Clermont always warned that the Ageless reach full maturity at a hundred years, and before that, they must not entangle themselves with the outside world. Otherwise, I wouldn't find my way back to the clan. In that very instant, my connection to my kin was severed. Only by fulfilling Isabella Stuart's hundred wishes could I find the path back to my clan. So, I asked her, "Can you make one hundred wishes? I need to repay a debt." That day, she gazed sadly at my face and made her first wish: "I want you to be my man." I didn't understand, yet to resolve the debt, I sought advice from her lady-in-waiting, staying by her side without title, guiding her from innocence. After she became a true woman, she lay with me nightly, showering me with countless affections. And for the next three years, every one of her wishes was for me to smile at her. Everyone said: she was madly in love with me. Later, she had a city filled with fireworks, wishing for us never to be apart. I agreed, but I knew that wish wasn't truly from her heart. I didn't understand human love, but I knew she had never loved me. 2 And so it was. Just a few days later, she erased every trace of my presence from Blackwood Manor, determined to cast me out. Now, meeting her gaze, my voice was steady. "If you agree, then this will be the ninety-seventh wish." My grip tightened. "Grant me three more, and I will vanish from your sight forever." Isabella’s eyes flickered with impatience, as if my stubbornness surprised her. "Then I grant you this ninety-seventh wish. Can you release me now?" she pressed. "Alistair is waiting for me." Her two sentences, spoken with such different warmth. Her friends beside her sighed in sympathy, believing I would break down in tears. They had witnessed my unwavering devotion to Isabella, assuming I was utterly lost to her love. But I simply released her sleeve, not forgetting to smooth the wrinkled fabric. "I accept this wish," I told her. "Go to your beloved. I’ll wait here at the manor gates for you to return and grant the last three wishes." Seeing my uplifted smile and foolish words, they shook their heads in resignation. But Isabella seemed truly rushed; she boarded her carriage and didn't spare a single glance back. As the carriage rolled away, a metallic tang of blood bloomed in my mouth. Just three days prior, Isabella had wished for us to be eternally together. Now, she wished for me to be gone forever. The conflicting wishes tore at me, and a searing pain erupted in my chest, a brutal backlash. Isabella, born to privilege, rarely made a wish lightly. I had stayed by her side for three years, yet I still needed four more wishes fulfilled. To complete another one now should have brought me joy. But when I curved my lips again, the smile felt bitter. The guards at the gate, seeing my daze, approached with caution. "Master Raphael, you’ve been away for three years. Your family must miss you dearly. Please, go home." He paused. "You two belong to different worlds." He wanted me to give up, to stop waiting. Down the street, a woman held a child's hand, her face alight with laughter. Snowflakes settled on my lashes, and I shook my head, my voice choked with a raw ache. "I can’t leave." I reiterated. "I have to wait for Isabella." If I didn't complete the last three wishes, I couldn't find my way home. Unable to sway me, the guard returned to his post, resuming his watch over the manor. I huddled in the corner, clutching my thin garments, when Lady Beatrice returned. She attempted once more to drape her luxurious shawl over me, but I gently refused. Her attendant muttered something about my ingratitude. Lady Beatrice's expression was earnest. "Master Raphael, Isabella is not worthy. You can trust me." She gestured. "My mother, the Duchess, has commanded me to journey to the Emerald Coast. I will leave this shawl with you; wrap it around yourself if you get cold." She reached into her purse. "Should you need any assistance, take this shawl to Montague Hall. I’ve made all the necessary arrangements." With that, she turned and left. I remained in my crouched position, never once touching the thick, warm shawl. I was freezing, but I longed to go home. I couldn’t bear to owe anyone anything more. After she left, I stood vigil at the manor gates until nightfall. Many of the windows in the grand houses had already dimmed their lights. But Isabella still did not return. The page who had accompanied her rushed back to retrieve a purse of coins, not forgetting to mock me. "Some people ought to know their place." He sneered. "Our mistress will be staying with Prince Alistair at an inn for the next few days; she won't be returning at all." He paused, his nose tilted arrogantly. "Oh, and the mistress wanted me to take this money to buy Prince Alistair a city full of fireworks and sky lanterns." He added, "And river lanterns, too, by the way." He chuckled. "See clearly now who holds more importance." With that, he turned to leave. I looked up, and indeed, fireworks burst across the sky, countless sky lanterns rising gracefully among them. I stood, my head momentarily light, recalling Isabella's magnified smile: 'Raphael, I’ve arranged for a city full of fireworks for you; come quickly and see!' I had followed her then. But snapping back to the present, I saw only Isabella on the bridge, leaning against a man, releasing river lanterns into the water. Her gaze was soft and entwined, holding nothing but tenderness, as if no one else existed. Perhaps my stare was too intense, for Isabella looked over. Our eyes met, and the warmth in hers vanished. After a whispered word to the man beside her, she stepped towards me. When her wrist was seized in a crushing grip, her eyes were cold as ice. "Didn’t I tell you to disappear and stay gone? Who gave you permission to be here?" A sharp pain flared as she shoved me away. She feared Alistair might see me and wanted to issue another warning, but someone else had already slipped an arm through hers, eyes brimming with tears. "Isabella, you don’t have to treat Master Raphael like this. When I arrived in the capital, I made inquiries." Alistair’s voice was filled with a performative sorrow. "I'm told you kept Raphael by your side for three years because he bore a striking resemblance to me, using him as a mere substitute." He sighed. "And I know you put off marriage for three years since your coming of age, never looking at another man." His eyes were full of pity and reluctance. "I don’t blame you for finding a stand-in, but Master Raphael is truly blameless." He paused, then continued, "I know Master Raphael is proud and unwilling to accept help from others; he hasn't accepted a single coin from you in three years." 3 "Isabella and I forgot to write our wishes on the river lanterns we just released. Master Raphael, you're an excellent swimmer; perhaps you could retrieve them for us? We'd offer ten silver pieces as compensation, enough for a warm cloak, how does that sound?" His eyes were full of an innocent plea, as if he genuinely wished to help me. Yet, to offer aid to a rival, and still feign such poignant distress that his eyes welled up. Isabella immediately wiped away his tears, sighing with a helpless, doting air. "Alistair is so kind-hearted." But if he were truly kind-hearted, why would he ask me to plunge into the lake when my face was pale with cold? It was the heart of winter, and the lake water was icy. I didn’t want to. But as I turned to leave, Isabella clutched my hand, her voice chilling. "Didn't you say you wished to repay a debt?" She tightened her grip. "Then my ninety-eighth wish is for you to accept Alistair’s request and retrieve those river lanterns." Leaning closer, she whispered, her voice laced with warning, "If you don't go down, you’ll never complete the remaining three wishes." She was convinced my 'debt repayment' was merely a ploy to cling to her, and she wielded that belief with chilling certainty. She didn’t want Alistair to suffer, yet I still remembered the day a year ago when I’d wanted to make her happy, diving into the scorching summer lake to pick lotus pods, only for her to scold me: "I don't want anything to happen to you." Hearing the word 'wish,' Alistair’s eyes subtly shifted. "So Master Raphael really is doing this out of a sense of obligation?" he mused. "I heard Isabella’s many wishes were simply for Master Raphael to smile. Isabella truly holds such deep affection for Master Raphael." He joked, yet tears still welled in his eyes. Isabella quickly released my hand, cooing softly with a mix of helplessness and indulgence. "If he didn’t smile so much like you, I wouldn’t have made such wishes." She cast a doting glance at Alistair. "Alistair, you know, in my heart, there has only ever been you." Her words caused Alistair’s face to flush. I stood my ground, showing little reaction. I had known for a long time that Isabella was seeing someone else through me. But the sudden shift in three years of unwavering favor left me feeling a subtle discomfort. The next instant, without hesitation, I plunged into the lake, enduring the bone-chilling cold to retrieve the river lanterns. Now, only two wishes remained. Once ashore, I took the coin purse from Alistair's belt and counted out ten silver pieces. "Your ninety-eighth wish is fulfilled," I stated. With that, I spared them no further glance, heading directly to a healer for medicine. The bitter liquid burned my throat, and I lay in the inn, drifting in and out of a feverish haze for a full day. I had planned to seek out Isabella as soon as I felt better to complete the last two wishes, but it was Blackwood Manor’s servants who found me first. "The mistress says her ninety-ninth wish is for you to perform a dance at the Scarlet Rose Salon." Prince Alistair, entangled with Isabella, had taken her to the salon for a night of revelry. By ill luck, he had offended an eccentric master of the shadowy guilds. Royal authority didn't hold as much sway as these hidden powers, and for the master to forget the slight, Alistair himself would have to don the attire of a male entertainer and perform a dance. Isabella couldn’t risk exposing Alistair’s true identity, nor could she bear to see him humiliated. "So, she wishes for me to take his place, is that it?" For a man to be forced into such a humiliating dance—what degradation! A wave of desolation washed over me, and even the page, knowing how dishonorable this was, looked somewhat ashamed. Yet, I agreed. Once this wish was done, I would only need one more, and then I could go home… Inside the Scarlet Rose Salon, I changed into the required attire. Ignoring the lewd whispers and taunts from the crowd, I performed the dance. When I stepped off the stage, Isabella showed a rare flicker of remorse. "I won’t cast you out again after this," she said. "Since you love me so much, I’ll arrange a place for you to stay, you can be my personal guard." She offered a shallow smile. "I promised Alistair that he alone would be my husband for life." Her words dripped with condescension, as if she were making a grand concession. But I merely pushed her away, my voice flat. "No, thank you." It was the first time I had ever refused her. Isabella’s face darkened. "Think carefully. If you refuse, I won’t give you another chance." She clearly expected me to regret it, but my steps didn’t falter. All I ever wanted was to go home. … Isabella’s ninety-seventh wish was for me to stay far away, yet these past few days, in order to complete the remaining wishes, I had been close to her. Now, the backlash struck again, with renewed vengeance. I curled up in the inn, drinking the bitter medicine, not forgetting to send her a daily letter: One wish remains. But Isabella seemed oblivious, her entire focus on securing a new identity for Alistair and setting the stage for their marriage. Days passed, and I finally couldn’t bear it any longer, wanting to ask her directly, but Isabella consistently evaded me. I knew she was subtly forcing me to agree to become her personal guard. And so, a stalemate had settled between us. Until half a month later, when a delegation from the neighboring kingdom arrived in the capital, and she sought me out herself. "Alistair's faked death has been exposed, and the Emperor is furious." Her voice was low. "Now the foreign envoys have come to demand Alistair’s return." She met my eyes. "And my final wish is for you to take Prince Alistair’s punishment in his stead, and then depart with the envoys." 4 A long silence stretched after her words, but I made no move. Observing my indifferent gaze, a knot tightened in Isabella’s chest. A flicker of reluctant compassion crossed her brow. But the delicate hand, trembling slightly, that slipped into her arm, seemed to solidify her resolve, chasing away the flicker of compassion. "Isabella, I know this is unfair to you," Alistair murmured, his voice soft and laced with feigned sorrow. "But I have suffered so much already. If you truly love me, you’ll extend that love to all I hold dear." He met my gaze, feigning innocence, as if truly desperate for my aid. "You resemble Prince Alistair. They won’t suspect a thing. Just cooperate with the punishment. Once you're outside the city, I'll arrange for your rescue." As if afraid I wouldn’t agree, Alistair immediately sank to his knees, eyes brimming with tears, grabbing my hand. "Master Raphael, I beg of you, please?" he pleaded. "I am a prince, yet I was held captive, humiliated, against my will. I want to live the rest of my life for myself." His voice dropped to a confiding whisper. "I don’t wish for Isabella to have any man besides me, but your sincerity pains me." He looked up, his tears seeming genuine. "Once this is over, I swear I will stand by you, sharing Isabella’s affections." He spoke of concession, yet his eyes held a chilling undercurrent of malice and calculation. My wrist throbbed with a sharp ache. I raised my hand and flung his away. Meeting Isabella’s reproachful gaze, I offered a faint, bitter smile. "This wish, I accept." With that, I turned and strode out of the inn. Before I could even ask how to enter the palace, a carriage, already waiting, came into view. I glanced back. Isabella stood shielding Alistair, her voice flat as she called out, "Prince Alistair." Meeting Alistair’s triumphant gaze, I understood: Isabella, for his sake, had never truly allowed me to refuse. But it didn't matter. This was the final wish. After this, our obligation would be severed, our ties broken forever. And I, too, would soon be home. Our eyes met, hers swirling with a storm of emotions. But I simply withdrew my gaze, lifted my foot, and boarded the carriage. With each beat of the horses’ hooves, the distance between us stretched further and further. … In the grand hall, I knelt below the dais, listening quietly to the envoys from Eldoria condemning Prince Alistair. My expression was utterly placid. The Emperor, his eyes blazing with fury, snatched a scroll from his side and hurled it at me. A sharp pain exploded across my forehead, but I made no sound. The Emperor raised a hand and ordered, "Take Prince Alistair to the Black Citadel Dungeons. Twenty lashes with the cat o' nine tails each day, for three days, followed by a public parade of humiliation." He paused, then addressed the envoys. "Will this suffice, honored guests?" His words seemed to appease their anger. Yet, Prince Alistair, before his departure, had been the Emperor’s most favored son. Had it not been for a devastating defeat, he would never have been sent as a royal ward. Even after three years, it was impossible not to recognize him. The Emperor knew everything, yet pretended ignorance, leaving no room for doubt or leniency. But I did not speak. He had every right to protect his son. It was just a transaction. What was there to be angry about? I allowed the guards to lead me away, never glancing back at the fleeting flicker of guilt in the Emperor’s eyes. That very night, the twenty lashes fell upon me. The Ageless, though immune to death and decay, felt pain with an intensity several times greater than mortals. The bone-deep agony blurred my vision. For three consecutive days, the gaoler Isabella had bribed would secretly bring me a pot of healing balm. He said: Isabella was afraid I was hurting, and specially sent it. Isabella's devotion was truly boundless, beyond compare. I didn’t argue, nor did I touch the balm. Isabella’s devotion was indeed profound, but the object of that devotion was not me. As the winter sun began its slow ascent, I was confined to an iron cage, paraded through the streets amidst whispers and pointing fingers. Rotten vegetables splattered against my open wounds, and the pain forced my eyes open. Ahead, Alistair stood, a look of wicked glee on his face. Beside him, Isabella watched me, her lips trembling imperceptibly. She mouthed: wait for me. But the debt was repaid. Why should I wait for her? As the prisoner's cart rolled past the city gates, the cosmic debt dissolved completely. Ten miles outside the city, Isabella, with her retinue, came to intercept the prisoner’s cart.
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