Chapter 3
The royal palace was bustling with preparations for a banquet in honor of the one and only imperial prince who had come from the Empire. It was early summer, when fresh air seemed to rise from all living things. The servants were busier than ever, running about without pause, yet they were excited by the long-awaited guest and the lavish feast.
Perhaps because of that excitement, the preparations were completed far more quickly than expected. The first princess, Glossa, who had been gazing out the window from her chamber, indifferently swept her eyes over Skene, who was standing beside her chattering away.
“Unni, look at this. Isn’t this better than before?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
At Glossa’s repeated answers of “I don’t remember,” Skene finally exploded.
“Honestly! Do you know how many times this is now? You haven’t even really looked. Would it kill you to help me?”
A faint chill settled over Glossa’s expression as she remained silent.
Only then did Skene grasp the situation. Letting out a hollow laugh, she sneered.
“Ah, I get it now. You want the position of empress too, don’t you? You’re worried I’ll dress myself up even more beautifully, so you’re trying to hold me back.”
When Skene shrieked, the maids nearby recoiled in shock, but Glossa openly mocked the fuming Skene. Her hot-tempered and foolishly honest third sister was a woman with nothing worth praising except her face—pitiful, and no match for her anyway.
Glossa shrugged and crossed her legs gracefully.
“Isn’t that only natural? No matter whom the prince chooses, there’s no denying that all of us want him. Dike is probably in her room too, making as much of a fuss over alterations as you are.”
The second sister, Dike, was precocious but also sinister to the point that no one could tell what she was thinking. As Glossa briefly thought of her, she slightly furrowed her brow.
“I knew it! But no matter how confident you act, you can’t really be that relaxed. Do you know how many times he and I made eye contact at the banquet? At least ten times. And every time, I smiled. You know it, right? I’m the most beautiful among us sisters.”
“Is that so? I think differently.”
“I’ve never once given up on a man I set my sights on. I never had to. Just giving them a glance was enough to make them fall for me.”
Snorting, Skene looked down at Glossa. She absolutely could not lose. If she could just claim Hippolytus, she would become the Empire’s empress.
Compared to that position, the prince’s grotesque appearance meant nothing.
Maintaining her refined composure to the end, Glossa met Skene’s gaze. Her vivid, desire-filled blue eyes, cascading blond hair, and the graceful curves flowing from her full chest to her hips certainly made for an appearance that would stir any man.
“Skene, you’re even more loose than I thought. To think the imperial prince would choose a woman based solely on fleeting beauty. Your thinking is as shallow as ever.”
“What?”
Skene’s face flushed red and blue as she clenched the hairpin in her hand. Though she wanted to retort, she bit her lip, knowing the words weren’t entirely wrong.
“I’m really curious how our lofty, perfect elder sister plans to present herself.”
“Then look forward to it. I’m curious to see your face applauding as you watch me stand at his side.”
As Glossa pretended calm and tended to her fingertips, Skene turned around roughly, as if she couldn’t bear to look anymore.
“…What are you doing? Open the door right now!”
Taking out her frustration on anything nearby, she snapped until the end. When the frightened maids hurriedly opened the door, Skene stormed out without looking back. Only after chasing away the nuisance did Glossa narrow her eyes and signal to her own maids.
“Bring everything we prepared.”
At the banquet, his gaze had not turned toward her even once. Whether Skene’s words were true or not, one thing was certain—the subtle, unsettling tension that had flowed between Ezra and the prince, a man little different from a beast.
So she had to be beautiful, no less than Skene. She had to shine, and somehow ensnare that repulsive man. Letting her hidden anxiety slip, Glossa gnawed at her lip.
—
While the three princesses fought their silent battle over a single seat, Ezra stood beneath the sunset light pouring in through the window. Judging by the noise reaching even the stone tower some distance from the palace, today must be the day.
Moreover, the two maids who should have been guarding the door were nowhere to be seen. With the banquet preparations in full swing, they must have been borrowing even a cat’s paw for help. She crept closer and gently pushed the door, but of course it did not open.
Lost in thought with her hand against the rough stone door, she suddenly startled and quickly pulled it back. Wiping the sweat from her palm on her clothes, she shook her head vigorously. What on earth had she just been doing?
With a bitter smile, Ezra mocked the hand that had pushed the door. Even if it had opened, what would she have done? She couldn’t do anything.
Rubbing her eyes in helplessness, she suddenly felt a chill. Amid the creeping unease came the hurried footsteps of several people climbing the tower. With her sensitive hearing, she could tell—there were more than one or two. Thinking it might be the queen, Ezra burrowed into the old bed.
Cocooned tightly in the blanket and curled into a corner, she squeezed her eyes shut. Soon, the heavy stone door opened with a spine-chilling sound.
“Lady Ezra.”
It was a voice she vaguely recognized. When she cautiously opened her eyes, an unfamiliar maid spoke with a look of disdain.
“There is a royal order for you to attend the banquet. There isn’t much time to dawdle.”
“A, a banquet?”
Her clear green eyes widened. To attend the banquet—thinking she might see him, even from afar, made her heart pound shamefully. As her face flushed and she fumbled awkwardly, the maids surrounded her with excited expressions.
A maid she had never seen before approached and gently guided her.
“We’ll dress you beautifully. Just trust us.”
As on that first day, Ezra began with a bath, had her hair neatly arranged, and was even anointed with expensive perfume. Throughout the process, she pressed a small hand to her tightening chest. Her wildly beating heart urged her excitement on.
The face that had smiled so kindly, the red eyes that had met hers as he kissed her fingertips—none of it faded from her mind.
Seeing Ezra’s flushed ears, the maids exchanged glances and giggled, but their laughter never truly reached her. Everything around her was slowly cracking, and through those cracks, hope was blowing in… even bearing that alone felt overwhelming.
When all preparations were complete, Ezra ran her hand over her bare shoulders and exposed chest. It was her first time wearing clothes that revealed her body so openly, making every movement awkward. Regardless, Matari, after sweeping her gaze from head to toe, waved her hand roughly.
“Let’s go.”
“Uh, um…”
Following behind the maids, Ezra called out to Matari for the first time. Her voice was small enough to be ignored, but Matari turned around to answer.
“My name is Matari. You shouldn’t use vague forms of address like ‘excuse me’ in front of others.”
“Y-yes.”
Ezra nodded several times with emphasis.
“Don’t answer twice, don’t just nod without speaking, and don’t drag out your words.”
“Yes.”
“So, what did you want to say?”
“Did the king truly summon me?”
“…I already told you. It is a royal order.”
At the words “royal order,” Ezra’s eyes widened as she clenched her hands tightly. She imagined the moment her father—who had never once properly met her gaze—would call her name.
A futile hope flickered. As Matari turned away with undisguised irritation and resumed walking, Ezra hurried after her, afraid of falling behind.
They arrived at the very heart of the palace, the grand hall opened solely for royalty.
The thick, heavy doors, gilded and engraved with red sacred fish, were difficult even for several soldiers to open. The elite guards standing before the red doors tilted their heads at the approaching Ezra, then exchanged glances.
“Who goes there?”
The question was inevitable.
“She is the fourth princess.”
“The fourth princess? We received no order to admit her. Turn back.”
Unlike before, Matari, who stood at the front, said nothing. A bad premonition bloomed at Ezra’s feet, binding her ankles tightly. With a vacant expression, she only moved her lips, while the soldiers shook their heads coldly.
“It is the king’s command that no uninvited persons be admitted. Why are you still standing here?”
The soldier thrust his spear toward Matari as he ordered this. They were conscious of the nobles waiting behind them for entry. The very maid who had guided her moments ago bowed deeply, then scattered with the other maids as if nothing had happened.
Left alone, Ezra looked around in confusion before hearing the giggling laughter of the maids. Only then did she realize it had been a crude prank. She lowered her eyes, frozen like a statue.
Gathering stares and laughter pierced her ears. Standing at the center of it all, she forced an awkward smile at Matari’s indifferent face.
Wiping her sweat-damp palms on her clothes, Ezra finally squeezed her eyes shut.
What state of mind had led her to come all this way? She despised herself for forgetting her place just because she had been shown a bit of kindness. The stinging sensation of the ground collapsing beneath her feet made her clench her fists out of habit.
“Am I… not invited?”
At her pitiful voice, the soldiers hesitated, then nodded as they raised their spears with red tassels.
The nobles arriving from the capital pointed at Ezra blocking the entrance, whispering in lines and openly complaining.
Now she had to turn back. She couldn’t endure any more humiliation. She should have stifled her presence, swallowed her breath, and fled as usual—but her feet wouldn’t move, as if she were waiting for someone.
As the criticism directed at the unmoving Ezra grew louder, the door—one that would never open in a lifetime to those not permitted—slowly parted. A brilliant white light poured out.
Caught off guard, the flustered soldiers recognized who had opened it and turned pale.
When the man stepped outside, everyone present stood frozen, mouths agape. As the commotion died down, a silence fell so deep that even breathing sounded loud.
In the hushed atmosphere, neat, steady footsteps rang out. Drawing closer, they finally stopped before Ezra.
As she timidly raised her lowered gaze to confirm who it was, Hippolytus stepped forward, blocking her like the great walls of Titen.
“There seems to be some misunderstanding. Why should Princess Ezra, a member of the royal family, be barred from entering?”
“It is the king’s order,” the soldier replied, gripping his spear shaft tightly.
In an instant, the spear’s sharp tip turned upward toward the sky.
“Was this not a banquet held for me?”
“Y-yes, it is. However, he clearly commanded that those not invited are not to be admitted.”
The king’s order. Ezra knew all too well that as a foreign guest, there was little he could do about it. She didn’t want to cause a scene at a banquet held in his honor, and above all, she didn’t want him to see her in such a miserable state.
Just as she was about to desperately grab the hem of his clothes—
“Then let it be said that I invited her.”
“…What?”
“They said those not invited were not to be admitted, so since I am the host of today’s banquet…”
