TSMT 13

Chapter 13

 The Princess’s Birthday Party

“What is that boy doing?”

The maid attending to her hesitated at Diana’s question. By “that boy,” she meant the slave. Diana knew—she had asked the same thing so many times it was sickening.

“I… I heard that slave is working in the stable right now.”

“I see. Did anyone hit him?”

“That… I don’t know, my lady.”

Until Duke Brienne gave his permission, Diana could do nothing. All she could do was hope time would pass quickly.

Every time she heard news of him, Diana felt as if a corner of her heart was collapsing.

“My lady, why would someone as noble as you concern yourself with a slave?”

“……”

“You should only see what is fine and precious.”

For a moment, Diana thought the maid was mocking her, but when she looked, the maid’s expression was sincere. The other maids serving her nodded as well. Somehow, their plea looked earnest. Diana gave a cold, mocking smile.

It was a thought Diana herself had always carried.

Helping Guiscard was enough. Whatever he suffered, she only had to save him in the end. He had endured unjust violence, but wasn’t she the same? The man who killed her family and siblings deserved even greater torment. She could easily surrender herself to such sadistic vengeance. No one could blame her for that.

But she knew she must not.

She had suffered plenty, though not as much as Guiscard. She could never smile at another’s pain.

That’s why this hurts so much.

She could simply kill him, yet here she was taking such troublesome steps. Without realizing, Diana let the words slip from her lips:

“Just… because it’s not right.”

“……”

“A person was dragged in like a dog. And beaten like a dog. I… I don’t like that.”

For a moment, the maid stared hard at Diana. A crack showed in her expression. Diana looked at her reflection in the mirror. The pale sky-blue dress with a violet sheen suited her well. The maid brushing her hair tied it neatly. As another maid pulled out a necklace, Diana asked:

“By the way, why is your hand hurt?”

At once, all the maids’ eyes turned toward her. The hand holding the necklace faltered.

“I cut myself cleaning up glass, my lady.”

“Oh dear. I’ll tell the head maid to give you two days off.”

“N-no, please don’t!”

The maid shook her head desperately as she clasped the pearl necklace around Diana’s neck. Pearly white pearls. Diana looked at it closely, then glanced back at the maid, who paused with a face as though she wanted to say something.

“Ah—could you pack a bag for me?”

“…Pardon?”

Diana smiled.

✦ ✦ ✦

Inside the carriage as they departed, Diana caught sight of Guiscard. He was watching her carriage, his gaze somehow hollow. The black-haired boy looked like he might die at any moment. His violet eyes sank like the depths of a poisonous dragon’s swamp. She suddenly felt as though their eyes had met.

Is he waiting for me?

All she had done was treat a single wound, and yet—he was waiting for her, the daughter of his tormentor? Diana shook her head, forcing herself to dismiss the thought.

Her father wanted only one thing: to show the world that his daughter was a fitting bride for the royal family. To that end, she must become close with the princess, and with the princes.

Diana looked across at her father. He was smiling, as if something good had happened.

“Diana. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Of course, Father.”

Smiling, she removed the pearl necklace and instead took out the opal necklace from her bag.

“Why are you changing your necklace now?”

“Because this one is prettier.”

The duke cared little for adornment. He seemed to dismiss it as nothing more than a child’s whim.

Diana looked back toward Guiscard. When she returned, she would protect him. Once she gained her father’s trust, she would have him released. Earlier than in her previous life.

The carriage arrived at the royal palace, and Diana stepped down. It had been a long time since she’d seen the palace at night.

She walked holding her father’s hand, greeting people with her eyes. Though once cast aside as the daughter of a deposed queen, she had still been a queen’s child. She knew it was proper to save conversation for the ballroom unless one was close.

The duke’s eyes widened at his daughter’s calm and dignified steps.

The great hall was full when they arrived.

“Duke Brienne enters!”

At the announcement, all eyes turned toward him. Many gazes fell on Diana, but her expression was practiced, composed. Murmurs rippled through the crowd at her appearance. Poor girl, who had lost her mother so recently—that was what they thought of her.

But instead of a fragile child, a refined young lady passed before them.

“As expected, the Duke’s daughter is different.”

“Indeed.”

“She must take after her father.”

Her composure, almost unnatural for her age, left them in awe. Among the nobles stood a boy with bright golden hair.

“Your Highness, what brings you here?”

The sudden appearance of the Second Prince, Philip, startled everyone.

“Ionia invited me.”

Princess Ionia and Philip were half-siblings, yet far closer than either was to the First Prince, Ferdinand.

“So that’s the famous Lady Brienne?”

At his question, the nobles nodded. Philip smiled faintly.

“She fits this palace perfectly.”

✦ ✦ ✦

Everyone scrambled to curry favor with her father, but the duke brushed them off with polite words.

Unable to approach him, many turned their efforts on Diana instead—lavish compliments and excessive kindness that might appeal to a child. She deflected them deftly, careful not to cause her father embarrassment. Some were pushy to the point of rudeness, but she found them easy enough to manage.

After all, the whole kingdom of Rodbrok had once delighted in mocking her. Compared to that, this was nothing. Everyone around her seemed to see her as some trained monkey, displayed for their amusement.

The laughter around her—so friendly at first—began to twist into jeering cackles. Diana’s breath hitched. She forced it down. It was one of the fits that sometimes seized her in crowded places.

This isn’t there. This isn’t that hell. Father is by my side. These people don’t hate me.

She smiled brightly, continuing to face them.

After some time, she approached the queen. The queen’s face was bored, but when Duke Brienne came near, she reluctantly greeted him. Then, upon seeing Diana, her expression cracked. Diana felt her heart tighten.

Princess Ionia, fearful of men, stayed only in the women’s chambers. To present her gift, Diana would need the queen’s permission. She could join the grand ball, but the true birthday celebration required the queen’s approval. If she displeased her, she would be denied.

“A child must be suffering, dragged into adults’ affairs.”

A veiled rebuke for bringing her. The duke only chuckled, but Diana’s heart skipped.

“My daughter works hard to fill her late mother’s place.”

“Or is she simply eager to meet a prince?”

“How could that be?”

Diana looked at the queen. Clearly, she disliked the duke. That was why the marriage contract he had so desperately pursued had only been secured when Diana came of age.

“Your Majesty the Queen, I apologize for my tardiness. Please accept my greetings.”

The queen’s eyes fell on Diana. They drifted, then caught on her necklace. The opal shimmered in the light. The queen studied it closely.

“What a beautiful necklace.”

Gesturing, she summoned Diana closer to inspect it. The queen loved collecting jewels, especially opals. With their infinite variety, one could never gather them all. As she admired the shining opal, her stern face softened.

“This is my favorite necklace, Your Majesty.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because sometimes it seems to hold the sky, sometimes the sea. Each time I look, it feels mysterious, unknowable… so I never tire of it.”

At her words, the queen’s lips curved.

“You have a keen eye. I too prefer opals over diamonds—they seem to hold the whole world within them. That must be a very precious necklace.”

“Yes. It was my mother’s most cherished possession.”

“Is that so?”

Diana’s face clouded with grief. The queen’s expression shifted as well. However much she pretended to be grown, she was still a girl who had just lost her mother. The queen thought of her own daughter, nearly the same age. Seeing the girl wear her mother’s keepsake, she softened.

Frightened by such a gathering, the girl had surely brought her mother’s relic for comfort. Princess Ionia must have done the same once.

The queen’s sternness melted into sympathy. The duke’s face brightened with relief.

“The princess is in her own chamber. You may go and present your gift to her directly.”

Graciously, the queen permitted it. Diana bowed to her father, then followed a royal maid toward the princess’s room.

Looking back, she saw another noble couple approaching the queen to offer greetings. The lady wore a blue dress and a long double strand of pearls.

Ah, pearls…

Diana knew at once they would not be welcomed. Pearls were the queen’s most hated jewel. Her brother, Lord Livreang Drassel, had died in a shipwreck while trying to fetch pearls for her—an old, bitter story whispered among noblewomen.

It was the role of maids to share such tidbits with young noble ladies. Diana thought of the pearl necklace she had worn earlier.

All her accessories had been chosen by Mirva. The maid had even tried to place the pearls on her with her own hands. Diana remembered Mirva. In her previous life, the same thing had happened—she had worn pearls before the queen and been driven out.

She had scolded Mirva, but the girl had looked innocent and said:

“But my lady, you asked for it. Why blame me now?”

Her father, too, had believed Mirva’s words. The maids had nodded along. Diana had been helplessly wronged.

Now, she saw the noble couple with pearls retreating, their faces red with shame. She herself had once suffered the same. Diana sighed, remembering Mirva. Even if she confronted her, the maid would shift blame onto her or frame another.

You’ve shortened your own life needlessly.

Pity had stayed Diana’s hand before, but Mirva—who in her past life had been mutilated and killed—would not escape her reckoning forever. Clicking her tongue, Diana entered the room the maid showed her.

At Lady Brienne’s entrance, all eyes turned to her. The women here ranged from elderly matrons to girls of fourteen. Princess Ionia, the image of her mother, sat among them, conversing.

“I greet Your Highness the Princess.”

She smiled brightly, but the princess’s expression soured.

“Another guest?”

The sharp reply sent murmurs through the room. But Diana instantly understood. The princess wasn’t displeased with her personally.

Diana knew exactly what she had to do.