Chapter 1
Here stood a rough stone tower that soared skyward, heedless of how high it rose.
No part of it was free from dust, as though it had endured countless ages. Through the weathered gaps between stones, the winds of the seasons slipped in and stirred the air again and again.
That was where she had lived. No—*that* was everything. The top of the stone tower no one ever visited. Not even fingertips could reach the small window. Only a single beam of sunlight and moonlight told her when the day began and ended, while the hazy layers of dust taught her how many years had passed.
In that utterly silent place, untouched by human footsteps, Ezra—shoved by a cruel hand—collapsed weakly onto a creaking bed. Through her swollen eyelids, the image of a still-fuming woman wavered from side to side.
Fearing the whip that might fly again, Ezra tried to cover her face, but her powerless arms only fell limply.
She let out a groan steeped in pain and wiped away the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Perhaps the woman’s anger had eased somewhat; her shoulders, still heaving with rough breaths, slowly settled. Only then did Ezra relax slightly and spit out blood-mixed saliva with a hacking cough.
“Disgusting thing—just die!”
It seemed it wasn’t over yet. The queen’s shriek, filled with rage, echoed loudly inside the stone tower. Unable to contain herself, she lashed out several more times, then finally covered her face with both hands and groaned.
“I—I go mad every time I see your eyes.”
Ezra hurriedly shut her own eyes.
“I want to gouge those eyes out and burn that face that looks like hers with red-hot iron.”
Words of curse she had heard so often her ears felt calloused. Ezra, who silently accepted them, always felt a strange relief knowing she herself was their target. She deserved to suffer; it was only fitting punishment.
So it was fine if she suffered for her entire life. She could endure everything—if only she could ease her guilt even a little.
“I won’t close my eyes until I kill you with my own hands.”
The queen spat at Ezra one last time. Leaving Ezra sprawled on the bed, she descended the stone tower with heavy, pounding footsteps. The echoing sound reverberated in Ezra’s ears.
With a strained groan, Ezra curled her body with what little strength remained and clutched the blanket tightly as she exhaled shallow breaths.
Struggling to sit up, she pressed her cracked fingernails lightly against the bruises etched into her bare legs and frowned. Bluish and yellowish bruises covered her body so densely that she could no longer tell where exactly it hurt. Retreating to a corner of the bed, Ezra buried her face in her knees.
Pain and piercing loneliness. Lost resentment and despair. She would probably live her whole life writhing in them.
*I never wanted a life like this. I never wished to be left alone like this either.*
*So if only it hadn’t been my life—but my mother’s—that continued.*
Absurdly, she longed for someone whose face she did not even know. Every night, she traced her own face and imagined the mother who had given birth to her, sketching her image in the pitch-black of her closed eyes. She tried to imagine her smiling before falling asleep.
Among those monotonous days, it was an especially ordinary night. The stone door creaked open, and the red glow of a lantern stabbed at her eyes.
Startled, Ezra frowned—then widened her eyes. Not two, but over a dozen maids poured in. It was the first time she had ever seen such a thing.
With expressionless faces, they looked her disheveled form up and down, waved away the drifting dust, and covered their noses with their sleeves at the musty smell. At a nod from the maid who seemed to hold the highest rank, the others stepped forward and grabbed her arms.
Without a word, they pushed her into the bath. She froze in shock as icy water poured over her, but unlike usual, the maids washed her with hands that were oddly careful.
She looked around at them in confusion, but they kept their mouths tightly shut, occasionally frowning or wiping away sweat, focused solely on washing her. All she could do was shrink back in silence. After being handled by those indifferent hands for who knew how long, water of a more tolerable temperature poured over her head.
Thankfully, the bath ended without her skin being torn raw. They then began combing down her black hair, which twisted and curled in every direction. Because it was long and hopelessly tangled, they seemed to struggle a bit. Still, they pulled the comb through mercilessly, sending unbearable pain shooting through her scalp.
She clenched her teeth and endured it. Perhaps reading the fear filling her eyes, the unfamiliar woman who appeared to be the head maid raised one eyebrow and explained in a tone of feigned generosity.
“A prince from the Waster Empire across the sea has arrived.”
What did that have to do with her? As Ezra tilted her head in confusion, the head maid turned away, glanced at the dusty cracks in the stone, and deeply furrowed her brow.
“He intends to propose to one of the princesses. A banquet has been prepared to welcome him, and His Majesty has ordered that all attend without exception.”
A royal command. A prince. The Waster Empire. None of it made sense.
A princess in name only. Someone locked away in a stone tower like her was expected not only to face them, but to dine with them? Perhaps she had misheard—or they had come to the wrong place.
“T-there must be some mistake. I can’t possibly set foot in such a place.”
“It is unexpected for us as well. But he clearly said: all the way through the fourth princess.”
The fourth princess.
The head maid looked down at Ezra sitting on the bed. Her bloodless face was gaunt, like a withering wildflower. Her wide, vacant eyes blinked stupidly, shining a vivid green. And her thin, curly black hair that tangled easily.
So scrawny, unimpressive, and short—Ezra looked like an undergrown child no matter how one looked at her.
Ezra herself vaguely knew this about her appearance.
And it wasn’t only that. Of all the royal bloodline, she alone lacked the abilities one was supposed to inherit.
The first princess possessed all the world’s intellect. The second had foresight to see the future. The third—probably rummaging through her chamber for the most splendid dress at that very moment—had beauty capable of bewitching any rational mind.
The half-made princess had nothing. If anything stood out, it was perhaps that her appearance was the least remarkable of the four.
A cursed being born upon the death of the most precious person. Her life was meant to be miserable. She had to live like the dead, burdened with contempt and scorn, reminding herself every single day of whom she had killed—how precious that person had been—again and again.
“Ah!”
Lost in thought, Ezra cried out reflexively at a sharp pain shooting through her scalp. Feeling as though even that was a sin, she hurriedly covered her mouth. The head maid openly sneered.
“Her Majesty has ordered that you must not disgrace yourself before the prince and his entourage.”
“Th-then…”
“Say nothing. Do nothing. Just deny your existence, as you always have.”
Ezra slowly nodded. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t nervous about appearing at such a solemn gathering. But curling up and holding her breath like a bug—that was something she was good at.
“If you fail to obey, Her Majesty said she will personally deliver your punishment.”
Ezra’s body stiffened like stone. Unable to answer, she trembled violently and clenched her fists as if enduring something. An old habit. Where her nails dug in, scars that could never fade remained.
“Answer.”
“Yes…”
Her frail shoulders sagged under fear. At her barely audible reply, the maid frowned openly and lectured her in an icy tone.
“In other words, conduct yourself properly.”
The time she had prayed would never come finally arrived. For the first time in her life, Ezra moved forward wearing a smooth chiton instead of rags.
The ill-fitting clothes made discomfort surge like a tide. She wanted nothing more than to tear off the embarrassing fibula and flee back to her bed, but the proud maids watched her from all sides, eyes sharp.
A tower where no light entered. Relying only on lanterns, they spiraled down hundreds of steps. As soon as they opened the rusted iron door and stepped outside, everyone breathed freely again. The air inside had been so foul that some even began coughing.
Free from the damp air, Ezra inhaled the dry wind deeply and widened her eyes. The breeze brushing past her hair, lingering at her fingertips—it was vast.
An endless night sky stretched above. Even the clusters of stars felt close enough to pour down upon her. Unable to believe it, Ezra clenched her fist again.
Was this truly not a dream, nor an illusion?
Unable to adjust to the open space, she looked down at her feet. The unfamiliar scent of crushed grass filled her nose. In the distance, trees rustled eerily as their leaves shook.
Snapping back to their senses, the maids irritably shoved Ezra’s back. Urged on, she had no choice but to move forward, almost dragged along. When she finally entered the palace, her face filled with astonishment and she couldn’t help but gasp.
A blinding light stabbed at her eyes. Everything looked stark white, and she rubbed her eyes furiously, unable to adjust. The ceiling was impossibly high, and the unfamiliar stone beneath her feet was polished enough to reflect light.
*Is it really all right to step on this?* Everything looked so grand and noble that such a thought crossed her mind. As she climbed the circular golden stairs, Ezra kept glancing back, afraid that something filthy would fall from her and taint the place.
Her restless steps quickened, until the maids finally stopped before a massive door. Ezra stole a glance at the exposed golden gate, then hurriedly looked away at the sharp glare of a maid beside her.
As her wandering gaze drifted through the air, the soldiers guarding the door raised their long spears with disciplined movements.
“Who goes there? No one may enter without permission.”
“This is the Fourth Princess.”
“…The fourth princess?”
The soldiers exchanged puzzled looks. After all, wasn’t she the princess whose very existence was uncertain, shrouded in mystery? Their faces lit with interest, they subtly rose on their toes to glimpse Ezra standing behind the maids.
“His Majesty ordered that the fourth princess be admitted as well. Those were his exact words.”
The small woman looked so frail she seemed she would topple at a touch. As they scanned her deathly pale skin and gaunt shoulders, they replied slowly,
“Please, go ahead.”
Hah. They didn’t even bother hiding their sneers. The rumors that she was kept like an animal didn’t seem false. Her appearance was so shabby that one could mistake her for a maid. Their interest quickly fizzled out.
Repositioning their crossed spears in a straight line, the soldiers pushed open the heavy door. Through the widening gap poured a spectacle Ezra had never even imagined.
Labyrinthos—a place that existed solely for honored guests. Everything there was made of gold; even the floor was gilded. For a moment, she was captivated by its dazzling brilliance—then she shook her head.
*I must not look. I must not react.*
Her hastily lowered gaze caught only the legs of the radiant golden banquet table.
She tried to move without making a sound, but froze when she sensed someone approaching. The feeling of a gaze landing on her. The maids had already scattered and stepped back as an unfamiliar figure drew near. Left standing alone, Ezra could do nothing but stare at the tips of her shoes.
“So you are the princess of Titen. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am—”
The low, steady voice was gentle. Carried by its kindness and warmth, Ezra reflexively lifted her head.
