Lysithea followed the spiral passage upward step by step. The ever-burning lamps spilled light over the rough brick walls, and her footsteps echoed through the empty, profound High Tower. The tower, which should have been nothing but a dead object, seemed to come alive with the sound of her steps, turning into a terrifying monster—and she had already been swallowed into its belly.
The spiral passage seemed endless, as though she would never reach its end, and Lysithea had no idea how long she had been walking. Strangely, she remembered never having been to any place like this before, yet every brick and stone gave her an intense sense of déjà vu. Had she once dreamed of this passage? Or had this passage dreamed of her?
A door left ajar appeared ahead, and from within came a voice Lysithea knew very well. She drew closer and saw through the crack in the door a middle-aged aunt holding a picture book, telling the little Princess in bed an old, worn-out story: "...And so, the brave knight defeated the fire-breathing Evil Dragon, found the beautiful Princess in the Evil Dragon's lair, and the two of them
returned to the capital together, where everyone congratulated them. The King presided over their wedding, and from then on, the Knight and the Princess lived happily ever after. A joyful ending, a joyful ending."
Just then, the sound of the twelve o'clock bell rang through the room, and a cute cuckoo popped out to announce the hour. Auntie tucked the little Princess in. "Your Highness, the twelve o'clock bell has rung. It's time for you to sleep."
The little Princess blinked her lovely pale-green eyes, which shone brilliantly like stars. Her skin was as white as snow, her lips as red as blood, and she had