Chapter 109
“Besides,” I said quietly, “wasn’t Mary the one who always plotted things with you? Yet you didn’t ask me to save her. No sense of solidarity?”
Sara broke into sobs, trying to explain herself.
“M–Mary said… she said Miriam was stupid and brought it on herself. She said she’d never end up that way because she knows how to please Her Highness the Empress. She’s desperate to get in Her Highness’s good graces and doesn’t believe a word I say….”
“I see. But you understand, don’t you? Even if I don’t save you, it won’t make the slightest difference to me. If anything, I’d feel lighter.”
Who had opened that door, I wondered.
I no longer remembered.
Maybe I’d left the Rose Palace myself without realizing it. My eyes drifted toward the terrace on the second floor.
The newly restored Rose Palace was exquisite. Now, whether one was on the second or third floor, there was no chance of tumbling over the terrace rail.
White curtains billowed at the open windows, stirred by the summer wind. It was a beautiful sight. When “Titania” had fallen from that same terrace, perhaps the scene had been just as lovely.
“When the Princess Titania lay dying, you didn’t pity her,” I said softly. “So should I pity you, merely because your family might die someday?”
Sara said nothing.
Inside me, that foolish, selfish, childish Titania whispered again.
Kill them all! Don’t forgive them! Make them scream as their families die before their eyes!
It was the kind of thing only a child could think — bitter and raw with jealousy.
Even they have families, people who love them. So why… why only me…?
The sunlight shimmered through the white curtains, flickering like the cries of the dead. The sound of dried tears crumbling to dust.
“I don’t pity you, nor do I feel compassion,” I said at last. “I won’t save you out of sentiment. But if your misdeeds would bring harm to the innocent — your family or the people of your village — then giving you one chance might not be such a bad idea.”
Sara bowed deeply, trembling.
“I–I’ll do anything that could help you, Your Highness. Anything at all!”
“You’d better hope you’re useful,” I murmured. “Because I don’t trust you, and you have a great many lives to repay.”
“I–I understand! Whatever it takes, I’ll do it!”
I looked back at the fluttering curtains and whispered inwardly.
But Titania… deciding to change for the sake of one’s family — that isn’t a sin.
Just as I, too, decided to live differently because of the memory of my mother and father…
But Cleo, that wretched Empress… she will never be forgiven.
Even so, to the young Titania within me, those words would sound like hypocrisy.
It is easy for those who have plenty to show mercy. A man who has never gone hungry can easily give up a meal to a beggar. But for one who has starved a week, to give away his only bread — that is nearly impossible.
So how likely is it that a child who’s never once known her family’s love could forgive her enemies, simply because they plead for their family’s sake? Almost not at all.
…But I couldn’t live that way anymore.
“Are you sure?” I asked softly. “I might send you on a mission that will surely get you killed.”
Sara shivered but met my gaze.
“E–even if I die, if I can finish what Your Highness commands and… if you swear you’ll save my little sister… then it’s worth it.”
“What if I lose to the Empress?” I said coldly. “What if I can’t even save your sister?”
“Then… it won’t matter,” she whispered. “If that happens, I’d die then or later — the result’s the same.”
Sara bowed her head to the floor.
“I–I’ll carry out your orders. Truly. With all my loyalty. Please forgive my past sins… and have mercy on my sister.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Clack.
The wind blew too hard, and one of the windows slammed shut with a heavy thud, like the sound of a ghost falling from above.
* * *
Mary was in a foul mood.
So much for thinking I’d won the princess over again.
At first, she’d thought she was finished — that she’d be executed or cast out. After the fire at the Rose Palace, she hadn’t even been allowed back in, and instead was made to do menial labor she’d never imagined. Every day had been miserable, filled with dread that the Empress might simply order her death. The last time she’d seen Her Highness, the woman had looked furious enough to do it.
But soon after, the Empress had summoned her privately — and given her a new command. She was to be used again, for something important.
Titania would soon return to the palace after the Offering Ceremony. When that happened, Mary was to reenter the Rose Palace as one of her maids again, to stay close to her. The Empress said there would be plenty of work to do, when the time came.
Had it been only her, Mary might have hesitated. But Sara was coming too. Clever, sly Sara, her long-time partner in schemes.
Sure, they said the princess had changed — that she’d done incredible things and gained a strange new power. But that had to be exaggerated. So she’d found an odd sword, so her engagement had improved — but wasn’t she still the same Titania who used to throw tantrums and smash things whenever her fiancé upset her?
It’ll be fine.
And honestly, what had they really done wrong? Nothing worse than anyone else in the Rose Palace. If that was a crime, they were all guilty.
Mocking a stupid girl for being stupid — was that a sin now?
If anything, they’d helped her. They were the ones who made her shine, dressing her up, perfecting her hair, making her sparkle. Mary’s skill was top-notch. Sure, stuck in the Rose Palace they couldn’t make connections or climb socially, but at least they’d earned some money. Before she hit her head, the princess had even liked them well enough.
But lately, Sara had started acting strange.
“Think carefully,” Sara had said. “Haven’t you noticed Her Highness the Empress has changed?”
“Changed? Please. After the fire and all those curses, of course she’s upset. But she gave us another chance, didn’t she? If we mess up this time, that’s on us. We just have to obey orders properly.”
“We’re not like Head Maid Natalie, Mary. We’re low-born maids. If they tell us to die, we die. Doesn’t that scare you?”
“Scare me? Natalie? Please. If we’d been born nobles, we’d be lady’s maids to highborn ladies, not scrubbing floors. You think the head maid’s such a big deal? At least she gets to serve a real family of rank. That’s all we’ll ever get close to.”
“You really don’t think about anyone but yourself. What about Miriam? You were closer to her than I was. Remember when we cut up that dress to sell the ribbons? You said you were grateful to her, said you owed her. She stayed up all night helping you sew—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. You’re the one who’s changed! Miriam was the reason we almost died, remember? If she was going to steal, she should’ve been quiet about it. Instead she got caught, screamed about cursed swords and demonic blades, and dragged us all down with her! She deserved what she got.”
“You… you’re hopeless. I’m leaving.”
“Hey! Where are you going?!”
That had been their last conversation — and no wonder Mary was irritated just thinking about it.
To be honest, when she was first called back to see Titania, she’d been terrified the order would be to punish her — to be whipped or cast out. But the princess had been surprisingly calm. Even friendly. She’d forgiven her easily, given her work again.
That had put Mary back in her element.
Great, she’d thought. I’ll just do her hair, use those new ornaments I’ve been saving, and everything will be fine. She’ll be pleased. My skill’s unmatched, after all.
But she hadn’t expected competition.
While choosing clothes, she caught sight of another maid working nearby and eyed her up and down.
“What’s your name?” Mary asked.
“Bonita,” the girl replied softly.
“Pretty name. Where are you from? I’ve worked here a while, but I don’t recall seeing you before.”
“Oh, I only entered the palace recently,” Bonita said, fumbling with a jewelry case clasp. “That’s probably why.”
Her clumsy fingers failed to open it properly. Mary watched, amused.
Hah. Calls herself a dressing maid and can’t even handle a jewelry box. Must be new. Not even that pretty, either. And if Her Highness the Empress didn’t mention her, she’s probably no one worth worrying about.
When Bonita continued struggling, Mary sighed and stepped closer.
“You’re doing it wrong. It doesn’t open from the top — twist the side latch, like this.”
“Oh…” Bonita blushed faintly. “Thank you.”
“Where are you from, anyway, not to know that?”
“I’m… from far away,” Bonita said. “Where I come from, the clasps are on top. You just pull and they open easily.”
“Really? What region uses that style?” Mary mused, priding herself on her knowledge of palace fashion.
Bonita smiled softly, almost serenely.
“The South,” she said. “The far South.”
