Chapter Twenty: The Bird of Love

In the tranquil, shadowed depths of the forest, a boy and a girl sat together beneath an ancient tree, their words weaving softly through the air. In these moments, there were no distinctions of princess and servant, no barriers of rank or status—only two young souls savoring the delights of friendship.

Avril was amazed to discover that this “lowly servant” before her showed not a trace of the sycophancy she’d grown so used to from her attendants. And as she let go of her noble identity, she realized that meeting people as equals was in fact a fascinating experience. She heard things no one would ever dare say in her presence, and the boy, who was about her age, possessed such a wealth of knowledge that his lively stories never failed to make her laugh out loud.

Oh heavens, she thought, I’ve never laughed as much in my life as I have today.

“The serpent lizard might be the only creature on the continent whose left eye is completely unaware of what the right eye is doing. Its eyes often stare at each other, as if trying to size one another up. Sometimes they even bump together, each trying to see which is stronger.”

“That’s amusing! What about the next one?”

“Well, take the blood apes, for example. They may be the creatures closest to humans. They live in tribes, each with their own leader. The chieftain has many consorts.”

“Like my father?”

“Yes, just like your father. But there’s one difference: the blood ape chieftain must constantly face challenges from the young and strong within the tribe. If he loses, he must step down—and surrender all his consorts to the victor.”

“That’s usurpation! Treason! Rebellion! They should all be executed!” The little princess exclaimed indignantly, hands on her hips.

Gong Hao laughed. “You have a point, but if you keep this up, I’ll be too scared to say any more.”

“Alright, I know I could order you to continue, but as you said, as friends, I should respect your choices. I’ve realized that yielding a little isn’t so bad after all. Please, go on—I love your stories about magical beasts.”

“Then let me tell you another, about the Fiery Phoenix.”

“A story about the Fiery Phoenix?”

And so Gong Hao recounted to Avril the recent events involving the Fiery Phoenix. When she heard how the pair of birds, for the sake of their mate, vied to have their blood drawn by a servant, and had the chance to escape but chose not to, she was stunned.

“I don’t understand. Why would they do that?”

“Because of love.”

“I often hear people talk about love, but what is it? Why can’t I seem to understand?”

“Well… it’s a feeling that brings a man and a woman together. They meet, they become friends, and eventually, they enjoy being with each other so much that they hate to part. If they’re separated, they miss each other so much they can’t sleep.”

“Every single day?”

“Well… at least for quite a long time.”

“Do they get married, then?”

“Perhaps.”

“That must be a wonderful thing,” the little princess said wistfully.

“Yes, Avril.” Gong Hao considered her words, then affirmed her hope.

“What a touching story, Hugh Egler—I like it very much. By the way, can you take me to see them?”

Gong Hao thought for a moment, then nodded. “Of course. We’ll see them when we return, but the Fiery Phoenix doesn’t like strangers. I can take you, but if there are too many people, they won’t be so welcoming.”

“No problem, I’ll make sure no one follows us.”

“And when you refer to them, use ‘he’ and ‘she,’ not ‘it.’ Only use ‘they’ if you’re speaking of them as a group. It’s a sign of respect, since they’re intelligent beings.”

“Alright.”

That afternoon, upon returning to the castle, Gong Hao kept his promise and led Avril to the Fiery Phoenixes. The one that had been set free had returned, and the pair nestled together in their cage, radiating such sweetness.

“Heavens, they’re beautiful,” the princess murmured dreamily.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Back at the castle, Gong Hao resumed the formal address, but Avril continued to call him Hugh, a familiarity that astonished every attendant. It seemed a mere servant was taming the notoriously difficult princess.

“Fiery Phoenixes and Frost Phoenixes are both rare among the elemental birds, and both are remarkably faithful in love. Some call them the Birds of Love. There’s a legend: if a Lovebird lands on someone’s shoulder, it means that person will be blessed with true love. It’s a powerful blessing. If a pair of Lovebirds land on a man and a woman’s shoulders, then those two are destined to love each other deeply, forever. But in reality, it’s just a myth. People only want the blood of elemental birds, not their blessings, so the birds rarely bestow them.”

Gong Hao spoke with some regret—he’d found this legend in the library after Red landed on his shoulder the previous day. He didn’t believe it himself; Red had simply been expressing friendship.

“You say they’re your friends?” Avril asked. “Can you get close to them?”

“Of course—they only let me approach.”

“I want to see.”

Gong Hao smiled, opened the cage, and stepped inside. As expected, Red and Green spread their wings affectionately, enveloping him. Stroking Red’s slender neck, Gong Hao smiled at Avril. “They’re fierce creatures, but they’re kind to friends. That’s why I say, don’t trust in contracts—trust in the heart. That’s more meaningful than any agreement.”

“You’re amazing!” The princess’s eyes shone with admiration. Heaven knew she’d never admired anyone before—not even the Emperor himself. If her father, Stryker VI, knew his daughter had praised a servant in such a way, he’d probably cough blood in rage.

“In the world of magical beasts, sincerity and friendship are more compelling than power, and more binding than contracts. That’s why I love working with them—and they with me.”

“Could I get close to them, like you do?” Avril asked, her voice tinged with envy. “I want to feed them.”

She pulled a handful of her favorite snacks from her pocket. “Do they eat this?”

“No, but they’ll sense your goodwill—as long as you don’t command them, declaring, ‘This is the princess’s reward, you must accept and be grateful.’”

“I won’t do that anymore. I’ve realized it’s much more interesting to make friends than to give orders,” Avril said playfully, a faint blush on her cheeks. She clearly understood now how foolish it was to command the saber-toothed beast to kneel the previous day.

She tried to enter the cage and approach the two majestic phoenixes.

But Red and Green suddenly raised their heads and let out a piercing cry, their feathers bristling, their presence fierce and intimidating.

The little princess was startled.

Gong Hao quickly soothed the fiery birds. “Don’t worry, don’t be afraid. With me here, they won’t hurt you.”

“But they don’t want me near them,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears.

Gong Hao thought for a moment, then suddenly exclaimed, “I see! The Fiery Phoenix is not like the saber-toothed beast; they are far nobler. Goodwill alone won’t easily win them over.”

“So what do I do?”

He hurried to her side, took her hand—an audacious gesture that startled her—and pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t make a sound. The Fiery Phoenix respects love above all. If I show you affection, they’ll respect you as they respect me.”

Hand in hand, Gong Hao gently led the princess toward the phoenixes. This time, Red and Green no longer bristled; their eyes were curious, as if wondering whether these two were a couple as well.

“Can I touch them?” Avril asked, her heart pounding with excitement and nervousness.

“You can try, but move slowly. If they shy away, withdraw your hand—never force it.”

The princess slowly extended her left hand, her right still held by Gong Hao.

Green didn’t shy away.

Avril’s hand met Green’s feathers.

She stroked them gently, murmuring in awe, “How wonderful… This is the first time I’ve touched a magical beast without a contract, and they’re so beautiful.”

Green accepted her kindness, nudging her playfully with her beak, making Avril giggle.

Her confidence grew.

“Can I make her smaller?” she asked.

“You can try.”

Avril addressed Green, “Your name is Green, isn’t it? Did Hugh give you that name? Could you make yourself smaller?”

At that, Green raised her head and cried out. She spat a fierce stream of elemental fire at the sky, shaking the magic cage and making Avril blanch.

But as the flames subsided, Green’s body shrank, becoming a vividly colored little bird. She fluttered above the princess’s head, then landed lightly on her shoulder.

“Oh, she’s on my shoulder! You said elemental birds are Lovebirds. If one lands on your shoulder, you’re blessed with true love!”

The princess cried out in excitement.

Gong Hao was stunned.

He suddenly remembered: the previous morning, when the princess had arrived, Red had perched on his own shoulder. That was why he’d looked up the legend—and having done so, he told the princess, and now Green had landed on Avril’s shoulder. It was as if some invisible thread had drawn them together from distant ends of the world.

Heavens—is this truly the blessing of the Lovebird? Could the legend be real?

To fall in love with the daughter of the Emperor of the Lance Empire?

Gong Hao had never entertained such a thought. He’d only hoped, by softening the princess’s temperament, to win her friendship—which would be crucial for his survival on Purgatory Island, and perhaps help him gain control of the Puppet Warrior.

But never in his wildest dreams did he expect Red and Green would choose to land on their shoulders.

It was absurd. The princess was spoiled and willful; how could he possibly fall in love with her? Gong Hao couldn’t help but scoff.

Besides, if he ever left Purgatory Island alive, his greatest wish would be to destroy the Stryker family’s rule!

And yet, here was the Fiery Phoenix, blessing their future?

No, he’d rather believe it was a curse.

The thought made him shiver.

Red looked at him with a mischievous glint, as if to say: This is not a curse, but something destined. Even if you don’t see it as a blessing, it’s still a prophecy.

Gong Hao broke out in a cold sweat. He would sooner die than admit Red had ever perched on his shoulder.

———

For three days, Avril and Gong Hao spent most of their time in the forest, and some with Red and Green in the cage. Unconsciously, the once arrogant princess began to change under the servant’s influence.

She grew less haughty, and all the more beautiful for it. She was already lovely, but without the airs of royalty, she became a charming, endearing young girl. The change was subtle and small—nothing compared to the twelve years of her upbringing—but Gong Hao knew he was making a difference. He could guide her, show her that beyond the life she knew, there were wonderful things worth pursuing, far more meaningful than endless power and privilege.

He had sown a gentle seed in her heart.

Since that day, Green hadn’t landed on the princess’s shoulder again, to Avril’s disappointment. But from Gong Hao she learned that one cannot always be satisfied; sometimes, you must learn to appreciate disappointment, to savor loss.

Besides, if the Lovebird’s blessing was given repeatedly, her future would indeed be terrifying.

At any rate, the once overbearing princess, after being stripped of her pride by Gong Hao’s cleverness, finally tasted a bit of common happiness.

She could run and shout through the forest, say whatever came to mind, without interference from stewards, guards, or governesses. No one told her what she could or could not do. All etiquette was abandoned, all worries cast aside. She immersed herself in nature, became one with the woods, breathed alongside magical beasts, watched the mists rise and fall like tides, and had at her side a clever, handsome servant boy who treated her as a friend, corrected her when needed, yet never made her resentful.

She was utterly happy.

Of course, every day she returned covered in mud, to the complaints of her attendants, who blamed Gong Hao for corrupting the princess. But as long as she was happy, nothing else mattered.

Yet even the happiest days come to an end.

Avril had to leave.

On the day of departure, she found it hard to say goodbye to Gong Hao.

She remembered his words: There is a feeling that brings a man and a woman together. They meet, become friends, grow fond of one another, hate to part, and, when parted, miss each other deeply.

She didn’t know if she would miss Gong Hao after she left, but she knew one thing: at that moment, she didn’t want to leave the golden-haired boy.

“If I could, I’d take you with me,” she said.

Everything on Purgatory Island was under the direct control of Stryker VI. His daughter could be free here, but could not interfere with the island’s workings. Andrew might have to indulge the princess, but Heinz would never fear her. Indeed, he had shown no interest in meeting her even once.

“I can’t go with you, but you can always come back,” Gong Hao replied with a smile.

“Yes, I will come back,” the princess nodded with conviction.

Then she turned to Andrew. “Andrew, I’m very pleased with your recommendation, and I like Hugh Egler very much. Next year I’ll return to Purgatory Island, since I still haven’t found the magical beast I want—and Hugh has promised to help me. So I hope he’ll be my guide again.”

Andrew bowed respectfully. “Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness. But next year, should you wish to see Egler again…”

He hesitated.

Avril frowned. “Is there a problem?”

Andrew quickly replied, “No, no problem at all, Your Highness. I assure you, there is absolutely no issue.”

“That’s good.”

Gong Hao clenched his fist in secret.

He no longer needed to worry about the crisis three months from now.

As she was about to board the ship, the princess made a startling declaration.

She took a sword from a nearby guard, tapped Gong Hao’s shoulder with the scabbard, and declared, “Hugh Egler, from this day forward, you are my friend, Avril Stryker. I name you my Guardian Knight. Anyone who dares harm you challenges the honor of the Empire itself!”

It was, perhaps, the most preposterous and legally meaningless appointment. Under sixteen and without a coming-of-age ceremony, even a princess had no right to name a Guardian Knight. But that didn’t stop her from choosing her future protector.

Everyone was dumbfounded. What magic did this boy possess, that he could make the willful princess, to whom even the sun should bow, preselect a “lowly servant” as her knight?

Even Andrew had to admit: no matter how arduous the task given to Egler, he turned it into a privilege. The boy was simply brilliant.

But as the dragon ship sailed away, Gong Hao murmured,

“I hope, when I see you again, you are no longer as you were when we first met.”

He turned and walked away.

Five days later, the Liberty arrived, bringing eighteen new servants.

Cecil was sent away.

Diligent as he was, his year of service was up.

No one had ever worked on Purgatory Island for more than a year.