Chapter 1
An Era of Upheaval
With the prison of St. Elfordium fading behind her, Romia held tightly onto her hat, afraid it might fly away in the wind.
The hem of her simple skirt fluttered in the chilly gust, just like her curly hair, faded brown, almost sun-bleached blonde.
The sky was disgustingly clear, and the wind showed no mercy.
“The weather’s insane today.”
Standing before her was Madam Ferlos, who had come to fetch her.
“What a mess this is. Honestly. It must be an unlucky year or something… If this scandal ends up harming our family’s business, it’ll all be your fault, Romia.”
Romia’s mother, Violette Ferlos, thumped her chest as she tried to suppress her rage.
Romia, who had stood quietly listening, raised the corners of her mouth awkwardly.
Though she’d done nothing wrong, a heavy sense of guilt crept over her heart.
All her efforts not to further provoke her mother’s wrath scattered like dust in the wind.
“I’m sorry, Mother.”
“Didn’t I always tell you that your shallow knowledge is utterly useless? All you’re good for is sitting with pen and paper, drawing your little pictures.”
“But…”
At the hint of protest, Violette’s eyes narrowed. The irritation Romia had caused now turned on an innocent maid.
“Move faster! I told you to have the carriage ready early, didn’t I? Is there anything you’re good at?”
“M-my apologies, Madam…”
As the maid was scolded on her behalf, Romia clamped her mouth shut.
She couldn’t bring herself to tell her mother, but even if she could go back to that moment, Romia would have made the same choice.
Someone’s life had been in danger. Regardless of who it was, Romia would’ve tried to save them.
As soon as they climbed into the long-awaited carriage, Violette burst out again, her lips barely closed.
“A carriage like this will only make my hips broad.”
Her snide remark, mocking the shabby hired coach, deflated Romia further. She glanced sideways at her mother.
Rummaging through her bag, Violette pulled out a long, slender cigar.
A habitual smoker, she lit up wherever she pleased, regardless of time or place. Thick, cloudy smoke rose sharply into the air.
Cough cough.
Romia rubbed her stinging eyes and leaned her head out the window.
“Tsk.”
Her mother’s disapproving gaze prickled from across the seat. It felt like sitting on a bed of nails.
Though she’d been cleared of all charges and released thanks to the queen’s clemency, Romia who had stained the Ferlos family name, was hardly someone her mother could regard fondly.
Swallowed by her mother’s cold stares and veiled scorn, Romia had to fight to keep her gloom at bay.
“Why are we crawling along like this? Don’t you realise I have lunch plans with Madam Angdarove today?”
Violette’s nagging showed no signs of stopping. She pulled back the curtain and snapped at the coachman with evident irritation.
Romia, trapped in the cramped carriage, was left to watch her mother’s every move.
“I’m terribly sorry, Madam. There’s quite the crowd today, hard to pick up speed.”
Despite her sharp tone, the coachman replied cheerfully.
“You do know what day it is, don’t you?”
At his words, Violette’s expression softened slightly as she scoffed.
“Hmph. Of course I do.”
During her confinement in Elfordium, Romia had been cut off from the outside world.
Now, as she gazed at the throngs on the street, she asked cautiously:
“What day is it?”
“Her Majesty has passed away.”
“…What?”
“Why so surprised? Honestly, Romia. You knew how gravely ill she was. If anything, your ridiculous stint in prison was because of her.”
Violette smirked with a severe look at her daughter’s stunned face.
“It’s fortunate she pardoned you before she died… But never, ever lay your hands on royalty again, no matter the circumstances. Do you understand, Romia?”
She drove the warning like a threat.
But more than her mother’s chilling words, what hit Romia like a thunderclap was the news that the queen she’d saved… had died.
‘So, she’s gone after all.’
Romia bit her lip hard, her gaze falling on Violette, who was gnawing at a fingernail, perhaps regretting that her cigar had burned out.
The Empress who had ruled the Cathas Empire for nearly eighty years was dead, yet her mother didn’t seem the least bit sorrowful.
Surely the crowds outside had gathered to mourn the queen’s death. Romia turned away to hide the tears that had welled up in an instant.
Her heart collapsed under the unbearable weight of having failed to save her.
Guilt bound Romia so tightly she felt unable to move or breathe.
“Royalty always makes such a spectacle. Just look at this funeral.”
Violette’s voice, devoid of a shred of compassion, felt icily cruel.
Clutching her pounding chest, Romia tried to hide even this reaction, lest her mother scold her for it too.
Her sorrowful gaze turned to the endless royal procession outside the window.
“Now that the Crown Prince is king, we’ll have to start cozying up to that side.”
Her mother muttered beside her, already calculating.
Romia pressed herself against the window, trying her best not to hear her mother’s scheming.
Then it happened. Her drooping head lifted, her dulled gaze drawn to a man at the front of the royal procession.
His hair was as black as if it had been woven from shadows, striking against his pale white skin.
His tightly closed lips hinted at an iron will, and his indifferent eyes seemed to hold nothing at all, only an echoing emptiness.
Darkness was the only colour that clung to him, and yet, the harsh midday sun blazed down on him as if he were divine.
Romia stared at him, mouth slightly open.
The grief that had overwhelmed her just moments before, at the queen’s death, vanished in an instant.
The man she glimpsed from afar embodied everything she had ever admired, everything she had longed to become.
Zehardi Kathas. Crown Prince of the Empire, and soon to be its new king.
And long ago, Romia had met him once before.
✮⋆˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
“Would it kill you to be on time for once?”
“I’m sorry. I tried to get here quickly, but I guess I’m still late.”
“Honestly…”
The older maid’s cold gaze swept over Romia like a reprimand.
Though Romia clasped her hands and offered an apologetic smile, the maid’s piercing stare remained unyielding.
Romia felt unjustly scolded.
“You did hear the young lady is expecting a guest today, didn’t you? Any later and you would’ve caused serious offence. I’ll take the hat to her now, so wait here.”
The maid’s glare suggested that Romia was solely to blame. She soon bustled off at a brisk pace.
Only after that disapproving gaze was gone did Romia finally let out a sigh.
It wasn’t the first time she’d been glared at like that, but today it felt especially suffocating.
She glanced at the watch on her wrist.
“There’s still a full thirty minutes before noon…”
Her voice, soft and forlorn, fell on no ears.
Digging at the dirt with the toe of her shoe, she sighed again, thinking of how she hadn’t been able to speak up for herself just now.
The letter from Lady Frosy had clearly said to bring the altered hat sometime between eleven and twelve.
But judging from the maid’s reaction, it seemed Romia had missed their idea of the “right” time again.
“So exactly when between eleven and twelve am I supposed to come?”
The first time, Romia had assumed she could arrive at any point within the hour, so she’d delivered the hat ten minutes before twelve, and been met with disapproval.
The second time, she’d arrived twenty minutes early, only for the maid, Mary, to take the hat with a sigh and walk off.
Today, she’d arrived a full thirty minutes early, and still it hadn’t been right.
No matter how much she studied aristocratic customs, Romia could never seem to decipher their implied meanings.
At this rate, Romia Ferlos would earn a reputation as perpetually tardy.
The only small comfort was that Lady Frosy herself had never directly commented on her timing.
“Next time, I’ll make sure to arrive right at eleven.”
Even as she made this new resolution, Romia felt a fresh wave of gloom.
If Mary was right, then she’d been late three times already.
There was no guarantee Lady Frosy would continue to entrust her with hat alterations in the future.
Feeling dejected, Romia looked around while waiting for the maid to return.
Beredrose always had an air of mystery, no matter how often she visited.
The way the blue hues shimmered across the estate, like the waves of Lady Frosy’s hair, was something she couldn’t get used to.
It truly felt like a Blue Palace.
As always, Romia found herself gawking with her mouth slightly open, unable to tear her eyes away.
Every time she came, the Count’s manor offered her something new to marvel at.
The crisp arc of water from the grand fountain. The vibrant, meticulously tended gardens.
The peculiar cries of the peacocks that Count Beredrose himself raised.
So mesmerised was Romia that she didn’t even notice the maid return with the hat.
“Miss Ferlos?”
“Ah!”
Only when the maid’s hand landed on her shoulder did Romia snap back to attention with a startled cry.
The maid, expressionless, handed her a bundle of coins as payment.
“The young lady was pleased with it, thankfully.”
“Please tell her thank you for me.”
“She’ll likely request you for future alterations as well. But I do hope you won’t be late next time. You do realise she’s been graciously overlooking your repeated tardiness, don’t you?”
The maid tossed the comment over her shoulder as she turned to leave, clearly satisfied that her duty was complete.
Romia scratched her cheek and looked away.
“Yes. I’ll make sure to be more punctual next time.”
‘Still, I’m glad she liked it.’
Romia consoled herself with that small success. It was deeply rewarding to know someone was satisfied with a hat she had designed herself.
And yet, what truly troubled her was her own response just now.
“Stupid Romia!”
Left alone after Mary departed, Romia yanked at her carefully braided hair.
She could hardly believe those words had actually come out of her mouth.
It wasn’t even Lady Frosy, just her maid! And yet all Romia had done was nod and smile like an idiot, completely steamrolled by the maid’s domineering presence.
To think she’d agreed without protest! Romia felt she’d have to bury herself under her covers and kick her legs just to shake off the frustration.
After a long moment of self-loathing, Romia began walking slowly again.
This–this was why she liked doing errands for Prosi Veredrose.
Because Romia admired her.
