Chapter 60
“Oh my!”
Marilyn, who was standing nearby, widened her eyes in astonishment. She wasn’t the only one — all the people who had been sneaking glances in their direction gasped in surprise.
That was because, with a single graceful wave of Jayna’s hand, the fallen fan seemed to be pulled in by an invisible force and landed neatly in her palm.
“How amazing! Lady Jayna can use magic?”
“A magician at such a young age — that’s truly impressive.”
With a soft smile, Jayna folded the fan with a snap and handed it back to Lady Nawin.
Her every movement was flawless, elegant — not a hint of clumsiness.
“You should be more careful next time. Someone could’ve been hurt because of a dropped fan.”
And at that very moment, someone unexpected decided to chime in.
“Indeed. Judging by how little strength you have in your hands, you don’t seem well. Perhaps you should go rest for a while?”
It was Marilyn, who had been quietly observing the situation from the side.
“I—I’m perfectly fine…”
Flustered by the sudden turn of events, Lady Nawin’s face flushed red.
Elia, of course, seized that opportunity.
“Lady Nawin and Countess Nawin don’t seem to be feeling well. Escort the two of them outside immediately!”
“W–what?”
Before they knew it, Lady Nawin and her mother were surrounded by knights.
“What are you waiting for? Escort them out at once.”
When even the hostess, Marchioness Demyton, spoke sharply, the two could do nothing but let themselves be practically dragged out of the tea party.
“Jayna, I’m sorry. You came all this way, trusting me, only to go through something unpleasant.”
Of course, chasing someone out over a minor dispute was excessive — but Elia was no ordinary person. She was the imperial princess.
Her word, in this social circle, was absolute.
And since the Navins had dared to provoke someone she had personally invited, most of the guests thought it was a mercy that the two had simply been escorted out quietly.
Once the commotion settled, Marchioness Demyton — who had once served as Elia’s lady-in-waiting — approached Jayna.
“Lady Jayna, I apologize as the hostess. I didn’t realize Lady Nawin and the Countess were that sort of people.”
Jayna politely lifted her skirt and bowed her head. She knew well that the Marchioness’s apology was a matter of courtesy, not guilt.
“Please don’t say that. I’m the one who caused a scene, and I’m grateful that you’ve been so understanding, madam.”
Her tone was calm, her poise natural — and that very grace caught the Marchioness’s eye.
As Jayna turned away, the Marchioness leaned closer to Elia and whispered softly.
“Is that young lady perhaps your future daughter-in-law?”
“I’d like it if things turned out that way,” Elia said with a smile, “but that depends entirely on Jayna’s heart.”
“So even if she doesn’t end up with His Highness Rozian, you still cherish her?”
“Yes. She’s the daughter of an old comrade of mine — and besides, she’s a girl with good character.”
The Marchioness nodded; she understood what Elia meant by good character.
Social gatherings weren’t just about friendly chatter.
Even lighthearted tea parties like today’s were, at their core, battlefields of wit — places where people jockeyed for power, influence, and favor.
Every day, dozens of “moths” fluttered around the bright flame that was Princess Elia, each hoping to win her notice.
That was why she’d been worried about bringing Jayna here — but to her pleasant surprise, the girl had adapted with remarkable grace.
“She’s polite without trying too hard to please,” Elia mused.
“She knows when to speak and when to hold back. And even though this is her first social event, she didn’t falter once.”
The Marchioness gave a generous smile. “I agree. It’s the first time I’ve seen someone so composed in front of you, Your Highness.”
Elia chuckled quietly. “Funny, I could say the same to you — it’s the first time I’ve seen you praise someone this highly.”
The two shared an amused glance.
But as Elia’s gaze drifted back to Jayna, her smile softened into thoughtfulness.
‘Lady Nawin was supposed to start working as a lady-in-waiting at the palace next year…’
Unlike handmaids, ladies-in-waiting were always noble-born. It was a prestigious position, a chance to serve the imperial family up close and build connections.
Even Marchioness Demyton had once gained Elia’s favor that way.
‘A future daughter-in-law, huh…’
Elia recalled a conversation she’d had with Jayna before today’s party.
“Do you perhaps have someone you like? You’re about that age.”
“Not really.”
“No one you’re interested in? Maybe a handsome young man?”
Elia had asked with a teasing smile, thinking of Rozian.
She didn’t actually expect Jayna to confess to liking him — but she assumed the girl would at least say she didn’t dislike handsome men.
But Jayna’s answer completely blindsided her.
“No. Handsome people aren’t my type.”
Elia blinked. “…What?”
“Then what kind of person do you like?” she asked quickly.
Jayna looked a little sheepish. “My ideal type’s… kind of strange. I hope Your Highness won’t be too shocked.”
“Go ahead. Tell me.”
Jayna tilted her head, thinking for a moment, then began listing with her tiny, earnest voice:
A man so unattractive that he has no rivals. (Ugly and short.)
Someone brave enough to go against his parents for me. (A bit of a scoundrel.)
Someone rich, but of low status. (A miser with money.)
“……”
Elia was speechless.
How could such a young girl have an ideal type that was this specific — and this painfully realistic?
Most girls her age dreamed of princes, heroes, or someone with honor and prestige. But Jayna’s criteria were the exact opposite.
“Why on earth would you like someone like that?” Elia asked, still stunned.
“Because if he’s popular, he’d never choose me out of all the women around him. And his parents would never like me either. I said rich because… if I have nothing to offer, at least he shouldn’t be poor too. That would just make us both miserable.”
Her words pierced like tiny, quiet knives.
Why did such a small, young girl think like that?
For the first time in a long while, Elia felt her chest tighten painfully.
“Jayna…”
She wanted to say something — anything — but no words felt right.
You deserve to be loved.
You have so much to give.
Every phrase that came to mind sounded shallow, meaningless. So instead, she just sighed softly and brushed her thin hand over her face.
Empty comfort will only sound like pity.
Jayna was only thirteen.
She should’ve still been at an age where the world looked bright and full of possibility — yet her eyes were calm, far too calm.
Not like a child’s, but like someone who had already lived too long and seen too much.
Will those eyes ever shine with true light one day?
Elia liked Jayna deeply, but that one thing — that quiet, jaded look — always hurt to see.
All because of that bastard, Diarmid.
She could guess why Jayna had grown so self-effacing, so wary of affection.
If her own father had never acknowledged her, how could she possibly understand love — or believe she deserved it?
Even if I tell her otherwise, she’ll just think it’s pity.
To Elia, Jayna was already a good child.
After all, she’d managed to do what even Elia herself had given up on — she’d changed Rozian.
That boy, who once refused to do anything, now trained in swordsmanship day after day — all because of her.
Rozian… please. Show her how to love and be loved.
With that silent prayer, Elia let her thoughts drift away — only to be pulled back by Jayna’s cheerful voice nearby.
“Thank you, Lady Marilyn.”
Jayna was smiling at Marilyn, who had earlier defended her from Lady Nawin’s barbs.
“Huh? You know my name?”
Marilyn crossed her arms, huffing sharply through her nose.
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I wasn’t helping you! And seriously, you’re wearing that ribbon in front of me?”
Jayna blinked — then realized. It was the jeweled ribbon she’d once won from Marilyn.
“I don’t know how you got close to Her Highness, but mark my words — I’ll repay the humiliation you gave me. So don’t you dare lose to anyone else before I do! Got it?”
Without waiting for an answer, Marilyn turned on her heel and stormed off.
Jayna couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Don’t lose to anyone else?’
It seemed she’d just earned herself double the trouble — and yet, somehow, it didn’t feel unpleasant.
‘What a strange but amusing person.’
Watching Marilyn’s retreating figure, Jayna thought that maybe, just maybe, the next social gatherings wouldn’t be so dull after all.
When Marilyn glanced back one last time, their eyes met.
“—!”
Marilyn flinched, like she’d been caught doing something embarrassing, and hurriedly disappeared from sight.
