Chapter 1
“Your Highness, hurry!”
The Crown Prince’s sudden arrival threw the entire residence of the Crown Princess into chaos. The sound of maids and attendants bustling about filled the hallways as they rushed to prepare for his visit.
Clad still in the dark crimson uniform he’d worn at the council meeting, Heilon entered the chamber. Before him, Berian Clody, the Crown Princess, greeted him with her usual perfect composure.
“Your Highness, you’ve come without notice. What brings you here?”
For a brief, fleeting moment, hope swelled in her chest.
“What did you say to Helen?”
…Ah.
That sharp, cutting tone shattered the fragile warmth blooming inside her. In an instant, the events from earlier flashed vividly in her mind.
“…I merely offered her a small piece of advice,” she replied calmly.
“A small piece of advice?” Heilon’s voice hardened. “She’s been weeping uncontrollably, and you call that advice? Is that what you’re saying?”
His doubtful gaze and the dry, bitter laugh that followed pierced through her. Yet, no matter how little he believed her, Berian knew she had spoken no lies.
Helen had violated the laws of the Imperial Court. All Berian had done was remind her—just a little, just enough. Nothing more.
And yet, the same woman who had raised her voice and glared at Berian now stood before Heilon in tears.
That venomous woman. So she’s not even trying to hide her two-faced nature anymore.
Helen had always found ways to test Berian’s patience. Still, she was only one of countless concubines throughout history.
The Crown Princess and the concubine—any servant could tell which one deserved more respect. A concubine daring to raise her voice or glare at the Crown Princess was unheard of—and unforgivable.
That was the law of the palace. The law of the Empire.
But ever since Helen had entered the palace, all those laws had begun to crumble. She didn’t bow. She didn’t avert her eyes. She stood tall, chin lifted, daring to meet the Crown Princess’s gaze with fury.
And yet, no punishment ever came. No warning.
Because Heilon stood behind her.
Berian had endured this for three long years.
For the first year, Helen had been quiet—always hovering around Heilon but never directly challenging her. Berian had even felt a strange sense of relief then.
Unlike what the court expected of a Crown Princess, she had no desire for conflict. She only wished to maintain peace, to protect her place quietly.
But over the past two years, Helen had changed.
She began by destroying imperial property, then dismissing servants she didn’t like. It was absurd—but everyone accepted it.
Because Helen’s word was Heilon’s word.
Her arrogance grew daily, her shadow stretching closer and closer toward Berian.
Still, Berian remained calm. Helen, after all, was born a commoner. Perhaps she didn’t yet understand the rules of the palace.
She’ll learn eventually, Berian told herself. If I can just endure a little longer…
Until today.
Until this.
***
“What are you studying so hard for, Your Highness?”
At her maid Rael’s question, Berian lifted her eyes from the book and smiled faintly.
Rael’s expression was tight with irritation.
“You’ve always enjoyed learning, haven’t you—”
“Liar.”
Before Meisha, the other maid, could finish, Rael snapped, closing the book with a sharp thud.
“This is all because of the Crown Prince, isn’t it?”
“Rael!” Meisha gasped, but Rael didn’t flinch. She looked straight at her mistress, face pale with frustration.
“It’s unfair, Your Highness. The Crown Prince only has eyes for that woman—no one even knows where she came from! Why do you still try so hard for him?”
Rael glared at the book on etiquette for royal consorts as if it had personally offended her, then exhaled softly and turned away.
“Even if I’m wrong, I won’t take it back this time.”
“Enough, Rael.”
You must be hurting too, Your Highness.
Of course, Berian understood the meaning hidden behind her maid’s anger.
“…He’s still the Crown Prince,” Berian said quietly. “It isn’t my place to question his choices.”
Rael’s lips trembled. “I just don’t understand why you have to suffer for a concubine like her.”
Berian said nothing. She didn’t have to—both maids knew why Rael was so upset.
Yesterday had been Berian’s birthday.
And she had spent it alone.
Heilon had been with Helen.
“…Let’s not talk about it,” she whispered, forcing the thought away before her heart could break further.
“I’m sorry,” Meisha murmured. Rael lowered her head too.
Their guilt only made Berian smile softly.
At least… they care.
“I’m all right, truly.”
At her words, both maids lifted their heads a little, their eyes still shadowed.
“Even if she didn’t exist,” Berian said with a hollow laugh, “he still wouldn’t have come.”
Silence. Then, she let out a small chuckle to break the heavy air.
“Come on,” she said gently. “Let’s take a walk.”
***
The royal garden shimmered in a thousand colors, sunlight spilling across the flowers.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It is, Your Highness. If you’re happy, we’re happy.”
As they strolled among the blossoms, Berian allowed herself to breathe. The soft laughter of her maids, the rustle of petals—it felt peaceful, almost normal.
Until—
“Oh no… Your Highness.”
Meisha’s voice trembled.
Berian’s gaze followed hers, and her breath caught.
She had forgotten—this was Helen’s favorite place in the palace.
Golden hair gleamed under the sunlight as Helen stepped lightly down the flowered path. Her beauty was undeniable—so radiant it made Berian’s chest tighten.
But this was no time for awe.
“Meisha, take Rael and go back.”
“Your Highness…”
“Go.”
She didn’t want them near Helen—not when they were already upset.
“…We’ll wait for you, Your Highness.”
Meisha tugged Rael away, and as soon as they disappeared from sight, Helen approached.
“Your Highness, are you all right?”
The question froze Berian where she stood.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, please don’t act for my sake,” Helen said softly, taking Berian’s hand as if in sympathy. “Yesterday was your birthday, wasn’t it?”
Her eyes sparkled, deep and bright like a doe’s.
“And yet His Highness spent the day with me instead… You must have been so heartbroken. I felt terrible for you.”
Her cheeks flushed prettily as she spoke, every word dripping with false sweetness.
Berian felt her smile falter.
“I see.”
Helen’s lips curved wider, as if she hadn’t noticed.
“I truly wish His Highness would care for you more,” she continued. “He worries about you constantly, you know. But seeing how calm and composed you always are—it’s such a relief. You seem so… at peace.”
Crack.
The fan in Berian’s hand snapped slightly under her tightening grip.
She didn’t regret it.
Anyone else might have scolded her for losing composure, but Berian thought she was being remarkably generous—for she hadn’t struck the woman.
Helen was no fool. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“You seem so at peace.”
To say such words now—when things had gone so far—was no accident.
Yet Helen still smiled, eyes bright and defiant.
As if daring Berian to try her.
Berian knew it then. She would never win against this woman.
Pathetic, isn’t it?
She’d lived this scene too many times to count. Normally, she would have laughed it off, and Helen would have walked away satisfied.
But today—
“Is that truly how it seems to you, Helen?”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
“I’ve heard troubling rumors lately. I wonder if you’ve heard them too.”
Helen blinked. “…Rumors?”
Berian tilted her head, hiding a faint smile.
“You replaced your head maid again yesterday, didn’t you? The palace has been in chaos because of you. Everywhere I go, I hear whispers. Tell me—when will you finally learn proper conduct?”
Helen’s expression stiffened. “His Highness said I could take my time learning—”
“Even so, some manners are basic,” Berian interrupted. “For instance—since when does a concubine speak to the Crown Princess first?”
Helen’s bright smile cracked.
Every word Berian spoke was true.
Now she’ll leave, Berian thought. Helen always backed down when etiquette was invoked. That was how these exchanges ended.
But not today.
Helen glanced around, scanning the garden. Once she was sure they were alone, she turned back, her eyes cold.
“You’re right,” she said softly. “I’ve made a mistake, Your Highness. I forgot my place.”
Her lips curved again—too perfectly.
“But tell me,” she whispered as she stepped closer, “how long do you think you can stand there? Holding a title that means nothing?”
“…What?”
“Your position,” Helen murmured, her voice like silk. “It’s only a name.”
Berian stared, speechless.
Never in all imperial history had a concubine dared to speak such words to a Crown Princess.
“Helen,” Berian breathed. “Do you even understand what you’re saying?”
Helen only leaned closer, her whisper brushing Berian’s ear.
“Let’s see how long you can keep lecturing me about manners.”
The words slithered down her spine, leaving cold terror in their wake.
And then—
A shadow fell over them from behind.
An all-too-familiar one.
