Chapter 7

“They say the Queen revised her will for the sake of some girl from an unknown family? Ha! Absurd!”

‘Truly a hot temper. Tsk.’

Marquis Vanessa clicked her tongue at Aedon, who was displaying crude and ignorant behavior, frowning all the while.

By contrast, Zihardi, standing at her side, did not let his expression change in the slightest.

He seemed too occupied with exchanging greetings with relatives he had not seen for a long time, all gathered for the reading of the will.

“I shall pray for Your Highness from this day forward.”

“Thank you, Lady Teleya.”

“May the blessing of the gods rest upon Katas and remain with Your Highness.”

“Uncle Peter. Thank you.”

These words were sincere respect for the one who would soon be king, and also flattery directed at the man who was about to ascend the throne. There was no harm in putting forward a friendly face early on.

“If that unlucky wretch becomes king, Katas will fall to ruin!”

Spitting noisily, Aedon turned his head and directed his phlegm at a potted plant in the corner of the corridor.

Marquis Vanessa, watching the thick spit dangle, sighed and wrinkled her nose.

He was a man without even the faintest speck of manners. Was it not obvious why Olivia, while alive, had cherished and favored Crown Prince Zihardi so dearly?

Entrusting the future of Katas to Aedon, who could not control his emotions, whose every word and action was rough and violent, was a dreadful thought. Only Aedon himself seemed blind to this.

“You must be busy preparing for the coronation, Princess Sharon.”

“His Highness the Crown Prince must be far busier. As for me, I merely assist from the side, helping in place of the Queen of Katas.”

“Still…”

Marquis Vanessa glanced toward Princess Sharon, who was speaking a little distance away.

Sharon was Aedon’s mother, and Zihardi’s aunt, third in line to the throne. 

Unlike her son, who was poor at controlling his emotions, Sharon’s face was as calm and unreadable as Zihardi’s, making it difficult even for Vanessa to guess what she was truly thinking.

Her cool expression, framed by long dark lashes, resembled Zihardi’s own indifferent face, and Marquis Vanessa shivered and rubbed her arms.

‘If there is anyone to keep in check, it is her.’

Now that the will had fixed the next king, Zihardi would be the young master of Katas unless some great misfortune befell him.

Yet the silence of Princess Sharon, who might have been expected to voice some remark about the will, felt strangely unsatisfactory.

‘I hope it is only my imagination.’

Vanessa pressed her temples as if her head already ached. Sharon’s subtle opposition had been constant in the past, so it was the quiet now that felt ominous.

✮⋆˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“I will assist you.”

At the attendant’s touch, Zihardi let some tension slip from his stiff shoulders and allowed fatigue to show on his face. He loosened his cravat, handed over his coat, and sat down heavily on the sofa.

Though he might have slumped in disorder, he instead crossed one leg over the other and covered his face with one hand, as if such composure was ingrained in his body.

Clearly, he had been keeping himself on edge at Drenia House. Otherwise, such exhaustion would not have struck him all at once.

Even as he changed into lighter clothes, he forced himself to resist the drowsiness pressing on him.

There were documents to be processed before he could go to bed. A mountain of contents that had to be read and reviewed awaited him.

“Shall I bring tea?”

The attendant, sensing Zihardi’s displeasure, wisely offered a suggestion that might please him.

When Zihardi gave a short nod, the attendant swiftly departed.

Knock, knock.

He had only just loosened his attire and tried to catch his breath when an uninvited guest arrived at his chambers, not giving him a moment’s peace.

At that moment, Zihardi already had a set of documents in his hand, ready to be addressed.

“You must be tired… I beg your pardon.”

It was Marquis Vanessa, bringing yet another document at this late hour.

With a short bow, she offered an awkward smile, as if guilty to intrude on the crown prince’s rest.

She had no wish to overburden the future king like this, but with the coronation approaching, the circumstances left no choice.

Zihardi waved his hand once to indicate that it was fine. Hesitantly, Vanessa stepped forward and held out a thick brown envelope.

“This is the revised will of the late Queen, announced today at Drenia House.”

“The original?”

“Yes. The original document, delivered after the notarization process was completed.”

When the tightly bound strings were loosened, the will appeared, bearing Olivia’s handwritten signature.

Marquis Vanessa quickly added more words, knowing that Zihardi was reviewing it carefully.

“The very last page contains the revisions announced today.”

As she said, Zihardi immediately turned through the heavy sheaf of papers to the final page.

He had already heard the contents once, so it was only a matter of checking that they had been handled properly.

“Lady Potamia.”

“She will already be aware. By now the news will have reached her.”

If it was the Heren Potamia he knew, she would certainly follow the contents of the revised will without protest.

To her, that would be a sign of respect to the late Olivia, and also the generosity expected of her in the position she occupied.

Thus he felt no particular concern. Whether Heren liked it or not, this was part of becoming a member of the royal family.

Just as he was endlessly tested as crown prince, so too was Heren, his betrothed since childhood, be tested to see if she was fit to stand at his side as queen.

“Tomorrow morning, I will send for her. Since she has been acquitted by the late Queen’s mercy, I will ensure the news reaches her upon release and that she comes to the royal palace at once.”

Listening to Marquis Vanessa’s added remarks, Zihardi focused on his review of the document. Beneath his thick lashes, his dark eyes moved busily.

But then his gaze stopped and would not leave the final line of the final page.

“Appointed as handmaiden to Lady Potamia… that girl.”

“Pardon?”

“What is that girl’s name?”

Only now did his eyes take in the name he had ignored when the revised will was first announced.

“Ro… mi…. Romia Perlos. It should be exactly as written there.”

“Where did you say?”

“Pardon? It is written exactly as….”

“….”

“It is Perlos, Your Highness.”

Perlos. Yes. Rolling it in his mouth, the name felt strangely familiar.

At that, Zihardi silently set down the document he had been holding. At once, he picked up the other papers and raised his pen again.

His movements were so natural that Marquis Vanessa thought he had finished reviewing, and gathered the will to leave.

His expression had not changed, his hands laying down the document were graceful.

“Then I will take my leave.”

Zihardi only inclined his head in reply as she bowed and left with the documents.

Even after the door shut with a click, Zihardi did not stir. Yet the pen clenched in his hand bore down with more force than usual.

At the same time, faint memories rose to the surface, along with the sticky, unpleasant feeling of that day.

The pungent scent of hair dye that stung his nose, the untidy clothing, the brown curls left to fly in the wind.

There had been nothing about that girl he had liked. From the way her large, curious eyes had looked up at him, to the way she had spoken with easy familiarity. All of it had seemed full of flaws, nothing but insufficiency. A mere scrap.

She had dared to lay her hands on his grandmother’s body and been sentenced at once.

And yet, because of the Queen’s revised will, she had been acquitted, and now she was to come to the palace, carrying once again that overwhelming scent of dye that had clung to her. 

His hand turned the pages without pause, but his signature strokes grew all the thicker.

✮⋆˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Even though the golden brooch on the attendant’s shoulder clearly bore the royal crest, Romia still found it hard to believe the news she had been given.

Even when Violet, who had been scolding her until moments ago, suddenly embraced her and cried out in delight as if proud of her, Romia only remained still, frozen as though time itself had stopped.

For the daughter of a lowly baronet family to become the handmaiden of the duke’s daughter, who was betrothed to the crown prince, was undoubtedly a great honor for her family.

In that sense, it was natural. Yet Romia still could not understand why Queen Olivia had given her such an opportunity.

The whole world seemed to move slowly, as if time had thickened.

Even her own shallow breaths felt frozen solid around her.

Her hand slowly rose and pinched her cheek.

“Ah.”

The sharp pain told her it was not a dream. And before her eyes stood the vast royal palace she had longed for, towering as though ready to swallow her whole.

“Miss Romia Perlos?”

“Yes.”

“Follow me.”

The woman who guided her spoke in the stiff, characteristic accent of the capital.

She introduced herself as Madam Merige, and she was clearly the highest-ranking among the handmaidens who served Lady Potamia.

“Once inside, Lady Heren will be waiting. When you greet her, step lightly and avoid making sound.”

“Yes.”

“Lift your skirt only modestly. Keep your answers short and clear.”

“Yes.”

On the way, Romia had already felt the woman watching every little movement. Now it seemed her hastily learned etiquette had been found out.

Biting her tongue to suppress her shame, she nodded repeatedly.

Madam Merige’s expression remained dissatisfied, but since Romia’s replies were at least proper, she seemed unwilling to pursue the matter further for now.

At once she opened the gilded door before which Romia stood.

As the door slowly opened, Romia resolved not to shrink back. After all the twists of fate that had brought her here, she would not let this chance slip away.

Though a faint spark of doubt lingered in her heart about why this opportunity had come to her, the fervor of the capital had already left her deeply impressed.

If she could serve well as handmaiden to Lady Potamia, the crown princess-to-be, then soon she too would stand among the brilliant people of the capital.

Just to walk shoulder to shoulder in their world was enough to fulfill Romia’s cherished dream.

So she had to succeed.

Whatever it took.