Three days later, in the castle garden.
"Sister Anna..." Nana pulled Anna's sleeve.
"Yes?" Anna turned her head.
"Did you notice Nightingale... has been acting a bit strange lately."
"Strange?" Anna paused for a bit. "Are you referring to her dress?"
Nightingale stood beside Roland. She was not wearing her usual strangely decorated cope which she did not seem ever to wash or change. Instead, just like Anna, she was wearing the bizarre outfit that Prince Roland invented. Although Anna did not want to admit, Nightingale's slim and tall body indeed amplified all the merits of that outfit—her well-proportioned legs, skinny waist, and that long curly hair. Collocated with the clock and peaked cap, she would have caught everyone's attention.
"I'm not talking about the clothes," Nana mumbled, "Don't you feel that the way she speaks to Prince Roland and the way she looks at Prince Roland are very different now?"
"Is it?"
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