In the royal capital, seven days had passed since Dahlia began selling her goods. During those seven days, Dahlia's shop had been a whirlwind of activity, thronged with customers from dawn till dusk. Some came to purchase her wares, their eyes gleaming with curiosity and desire, while others lingered to probe into the origins of her exotic merchandise, their questions sharp and insistent, seeking to uncover the secrets behind her success.
There were even those who resorted to darker tactics, their intentions far less innocent. Some tried to intimidate Dahlia, their voices low and menacing, demanding she reveal the secret formulas behind her goods or disclose the source of her supply chain. Had it not been for the steadfast support of Princess Lucy and Catherine, Dahlia might have found herself in grave danger, possibly even abducted by those ruthless opportunists who saw her prosperity as a prize to be seized.
But today marked the end of that frenetic week, as Dahlia had sold out every last item in her inventory. Even the coveted supreme edition perfume, a masterpiece of fragrance that had drawn gasps of awe from all who smelled it, had been snapped up by a merchant from a neighboring kingdom. Rumor had it that the merchant intended to present it as a tribute to his king, a gesture of loyalty and prestige. With her stock depleted, Dahlia had closed the shop, locking the heavy wooden door behind her and declaring a temporary hiatus from business. She returned to her home, a modest yet elegant abode in the heart of the capital, where she now played host to Princess Lucy and Jones, her loyal companions in this tumultuous time.
"Princess Lucy, I can't thank you enough for your help these past few days," Dahlia said, her voice warm with gratitude as she poured a cup of steaming water for the princess. The faint aroma of herbs wafted from the cup, a comforting scent in the cool, quiet room, the flickering light of the hearth casting dancing shadows on the walls.
"Aren't we friends?" Princess Lucy replied, her lips curving into a warm, reassuring smile, her eyes twinkling with genuine affection. The smile softened her regal demeanor, revealing the kind heart beneath her royal facade, a heart that had stood by Dahlia through thick and thin.
"…" Dahlia paused, momentarily taken aback by the simplicity and sincerity of the princess's words. A moment later, a heartfelt smile spread across her own face, her eyes shining with emotion as she nodded vigorously. "Yes, you're right—we are friends," She said, her voice thick with feeling, her heart swelling with appreciation for the bond they had forged.
In the past, Dahlia had viewed Princess Lucy as a rival, or rather, a worthy adversary in a silent competition between two exceptional young women. Both were brilliant, driven, and accomplished, and it was only natural that they would measure themselves against one another, their rivalry tempered by a mutual respect that had blossomed into friendship. But now, in this moment, Dahlia realized that their bond transcended rivalry, rooted instead in a deep, unspoken understanding and camaraderie.
"These past few days, the source of your supply has been exposed," Princess Lucy said softly, her tone shifting to one of concern as she lifted the ceramic cup to her lips, taking a delicate sip of the warm liquid. "What do you plan to do now?" Her eyes studied Dahlia, searching for any sign of worry, her mind already considering the implications of this development.
"It doesn't matter—it was bound to happen," Dahlia replied with a nonchalant shake of her head, her eyes calm and untroubled, a testament to her unshakable confidence. She leaned back in her chair, the wooden frame creaking softly under her weight, and folded her hands in her lap, her posture relaxed yet poised.
The exposure of Sedona City as her source was inevitable, a fact Dahlia had long accepted. With so many people accompanying her on her journey to Sedona City—dozens of crew members on her fleet alone—it was only a matter of time before someone succumbed to threats or bribes, spilling the secrets of her travels. And then there were the nobles, like Kevin and Scott, who had returned from Sedona City with tales of its wonders. A simple deduction would lead anyone to connect the dots, to realize that Sedona City was the wellspring of her prosperity. Dahlia had anticipated this from the start, and she had planned accordingly, her mind always several steps ahead of her adversaries.
"Oh? Aren't you worried that your business in the capital will be undermined?" Princess Lucy asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise, her eyes widening slightly. "Once those merchants travel to Sedona City, they'll purchase goods in bulk and bring them back to the capital, flooding the market. Your competitive advantage will be gone, won't it?" Her voice carried a note of genuine concern, her analytical mind already envisioning the economic consequences, the potential erosion of Dahlia's hard-won success.
"Not at all—I'm not worried in the slightest," Dahlia replied, a confident smile playing on her lips, her eyes gleaming with self-assurance. She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table, her posture exuding a quiet strength, a certainty born of careful planning and strategic foresight.
She had in her possession a document signed by Lord Lucas himself, a contract that designated her as the primary distributor of goods in the capital region, the largest and most lucrative market in the kingdom. This agreement gave her an ironclad monopoly, ensuring that no matter how many goods others brought back from Sedona City, her position remained unassailable. The scattered, small-scale imports of rival merchants were mere drops in the ocean, insignificant compared to the vast network she had established, and she dismissed them with the ease of someone who knew her victory was assured.
"It seems you've already made other preparations," Princess Lucy said, nodding in acknowledgment, her eyes reflecting her respect for Dahlia's business acumen. She had always admired Dahlia's sharp mind, her ability to navigate the treacherous waters of commerce with the skill of a seasoned captain, and this moment only deepened her admiration, reinforcing her belief in Dahlia's brilliance.
"Not preparations, exactly," Dahlia said, her lips curving into a crescent moon smile, her eyes softening as she thought of a certain black-haired, black-eyed young man. "Let's just say I have an exceptional business partner, one whose foresight and ingenuity have made all of this possible." Her voice carried a note of pride, a quiet reverence for the man who had not only provided her with the goods but had also entrusted her with the responsibility of bringing his vision to life in the capital.
"Dahlia, you need to be careful," Princess Lucy said suddenly, her expression growing serious, her eyes narrowing with concern as she leaned forward, her voice low and urgent. "Even though the attention has shifted from you to Sedona City, you're still in danger. You mustn't underestimate the risks."
"Uh…" Dahlia frowned, her brow furrowing as she considered the princess's words, her mind racing to assess the situation. She knew exactly what Lucy was referring to, and a flicker of unease passed through her. She pursed her lips, a sigh escaping her as she replied, "For now, they wouldn't dare make any bold moves—not yet." Her voice carried a note of cautious optimism, a hope that the status quo would hold, at least for a little while longer.
"Don't underestimate their greed," Princess Lucy warned, her tone firm, her eyes flashing with intensity. "You've earned an enormous amount of gold this time, more than most nobles see in a lifetime. They won't be able to restrain themselves for long—their avarice will drive them to act, and soon." Her words were a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows, the predatory instincts of those who saw Dahlia's success as a threat, a prize to be claimed at any cost.
"I understand," Dahlia said, her voice tinged with resignation as she let out a soft sigh, her eyes clouding with worry. "Once I've finished handling my affairs here, I'll leave the capital." She knew all too well the risks she faced, the envy her wealth had sparked among the nobles, the whispers of conspiracy that followed her every move. The gold she had earned from this venture was a double-edged sword, a fortune that could secure her future but also paint a target on her back, drawing the attention of those who would stop at nothing to claim it.
"I'll be leaving the capital tomorrow," Princess Lucy said, her eyes softening as she lifted the ceramic cup to her lips, taking another sip of the warm liquid. "Would you like to come with me?" Her voice carried a note of hope, a desire to protect her friend, to shield her from the dangers that loomed on the horizon, even as she knew the decision was not hers to make.
"This…" Dahlia hesitated, her heart stirring with temptation, her mind weighing the offer against her responsibilities. The idea of leaving the capital, of escaping the mounting threats, was appealing, but as she thought of her family's business, the legacy she had worked so hard to build, she shook her head reluctantly. "I can't leave just yet—not with so much still tying me here," She said, her voice tinged with regret, her eyes reflecting the conflict within her.
"I understand," Princess Lucy said, her eyes dimming slightly as she lowered her gaze, a sigh escaping her lips. "You have a home to look after, responsibilities to uphold. It's not like me—I have to run away from mine to find any semblance of freedom." Her voice carried a note of bitterness,a wistful melancholy that spoke of the burdens she carried as a princess, the gilded cage of her royal obligations that left little room for personal desires. Her fingers tightened briefly around the ceramic cup, the warmth of the liquid inside a small comfort against the chill of her thoughts, the weight of her impending departure pressing heavily on her heart.
"Bang!"
A sudden, sharp sound jolted the room, shattering the quiet moment of reflection. Both Dahlia and Princess Lucy turned their heads toward the source of the noise, their eyes widening in surprise as they saw Jones, the leopard-eared girl, standing frozen, her hands trembling slightly. The ceramic cup she had been holding lay in pieces on the floor, its contents pooling around the shards, a stark contrast against the polished wood. The crash echoed in the stillness, a jarring reminder of the tension that simmered beneath the surface, the unspoken fears and uncertainties that lingered in the air.
"Ha ha… I suppose I got a bit too sentimental," Princess Lucy said, forcing a bright, carefree laugh as she waved a hand dismissively, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. She glanced at Jones, who quickly averted her gaze, her leopard ears twitching nervously, her posture stiff with embarrassment. Lucy's smile widened, a playful warmth in her expression as she relaxed back into her chair, her body language deliberately casual, as if to dispel the awkwardness of the moment. "Look at me, getting all emotional, and here I have my adorable, tsundere leopard-eared companion to keep me grounded," She added, her voice teasing, a light-hearted attempt to lift the mood, to banish the shadows that threatened to darken their gathering.
Dahlia watched the exchange, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observed the peculiar dynamic between the two, the unspoken bond that seemed to transcend words. She couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity, a bemusement at their odd way of expressing affection, a mixture of playful teasing and genuine care that was as endearing as it was perplexing. Scratching her thigh absentmindedly, she raised an eyebrow and turned to Princess Lucy, her voice tinged with concern as she shifted the conversation to another pressing matter. "Princess Lucy, do you know what Catherine has been up to these past few days?" She asked, her tone laced with worry, her mind drifting to their absent friend, whose sudden disappearance had left a void in their circle.
Catherine had not visited for three days, a stark contrast to the previous week when she had been a daily presence, her cheerful energy a constant source of support amidst the chaos of Dahlia's business ventures. But three days ago, a knight dispatched by the Duke had arrived, his armor gleaming in the morning light, and had escorted Catherine back to the ducal estate with an air of formality that brooked no argument. Since then, there had been no word, no sign of her, and Dahlia couldn't shake the growing unease that gnawed at her, the fear that something was amiss, that Catherine was facing challenges she could not share.
"She…" Princess Lucy began, her eyes flickering with a mix of sympathy and resignation as she let out a helpless sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of the news she was about to deliver. "She's been busy learning etiquette lately," She said, her voice soft, almost reluctant, as if the words themselves carried a bitter taste, a reminder of the harsh realities that governed their lives, the constraints of their stations that even friendship could not overcome.
"Etiquette?" Dahlia's eyes widened in astonishment, her voice rising with incredulity as she leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table, her mind racing to process the implications. "Does that mean she's already preparing to be married off?" The words tumbled out, sharp and urgent, her heart sinking at the thought, her imagination conjuring images of Catherine, vibrant and free-spirited, trapped in a life of stifling formality, her laughter silenced by the expectations of nobility.
"Yes," Princess Lucy replied, her eyes dimming with a flicker of sorrow, a bitter edge to her voice as she nodded slowly, her expression clouded with a mix of frustration and helplessness. "Catherine is different from us—she's the daughter of a duke, and some things are beyond her control, no matter how much she might wish otherwise. Her fate was sealed long ago, her path dictated by the needs of her family, the alliances her father seeks to forge." Her words were heavy, laden with the weight of their shared understanding, the knowledge that their world, for all its beauty and grandeur, was often a prison for those born into its upper echelons, their lives bartered like pieces on a chessboard.
Lucy's thoughts drifted briefly to her own circumstances, a pang of empathy tightening her chest. If not for her father's illness, which had delayed the inevitable, she, too, would likely face a similar fate in a few years—married off to a man she did not love, her dreams and desires sacrificed on the altar of political expediency. The thought was a bitter pill, one she swallowed with the grace of a princess, but it left a lingering ache, a quiet rebellion in her heart that fueled her decision to flee the capital, to seek a freedom that Catherine could not.
"Who will she marry?" Dahlia asked, her fists clenching tightly, her nails digging into her palms as she thought of Catherine's whispered dreams of running away, of escaping the gilded cage of her noble birth. The memory of those conversations, held in hushed tones under the cover of night, filled Dahlia with a fierce protectiveness, a determination to help her friend, even as she grappled with the limits of her own power, the reality of her inability to challenge the might of a duke.
"I don't know," Princess Lucy replied, biting her lower lip, her eyes clouded with uncertainty, her voice tinged with frustration. "The competition between the three suitors has only just begun, and it may be some time before the Duke makes his final decision, before he chooses which alliance to cement with his daughter's hand. But the outcome, whatever it may be, will not be of Catherine's choosing." Her words were a stark reminder of the powerlessness that defined their friend's situation, the inevitability of her fate, a fate that loomed ever closer with each passing day.
"…" Dahlia fell silent, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, her heart aching for Catherine, her thoughts scrambling for a solution, a way to help, even as she recognized the futility of her efforts. Could she help her friend escape the Duke's mansion, spirit her away to a life of freedom? The idea was tempting, a heroic fantasy that flickered briefly in her mind, but reality quickly doused the flame. She lacked the resources, the influence, the sheer audacity to breach the impregnable walls of the ducal estate, to defy a man whose power rivaled that of kings. The very thought of it was absurd, a dream born of desperation, not practicality.
If things continued down this path, Catherine would undoubtedly be forced into a marriage she did not want, her vibrant spirit dimmed by the weight of obligation, her days filled with forced smiles and silent misery. Dahlia could picture it all too clearly—the once-lively girl, her laughter replaced by a brittle facade, her dreams buried beneath the expectations of her station, her life a shadow of what it could have been. The image was a dagger to Dahlia's heart, a wound that deepened with every moment of helplessness, every realization that she could do nothing to change the course of events.
Who could possibly help Catherine in such a dire situation? Dahlia's thoughts turned fleetingly to Lord Lucas, the brilliant mind behind her own success, the man whose ingenuity had transformed her fortunes. But Sedona City was so far away, a distant beacon of hope that was as unreachable as the stars, its distance rendering any aid impractical, a mere fantasy in the face of cold, hard reality. Even Lucas, for all his brilliance, could not bridge the gap between continents, could not intervene in the machinations of the capital's nobility from such a vast distance.
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy, the air thick with unspoken fears, the weight of their shared helplessness pressing down on them like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. Princess Lucy, too, felt the strain, her eyes reflecting her own powerlessness, her status as a princess—once a source of pride—now a bitter reminder of her limitations. She was, after all, a princess whose influence was waning, her voice no longer carrying the weight it once did in the halls of power. Even her attempts to visit Catherine at the ducal estate had been met with polite but firm refusals, the gates closed to her, a silent rebuke of her diminished authority.
"I should go say goodbye to the little one," Princess Lucy said, rising to her feet, her voice soft but resolute, her eyes flickering with a mix of determination and sorrow. "Don't bother seeing me off tomorrow—it's better this way." Her words were a farewell, a quiet acknowledgment of the dangers that awaited them both, the paths they must walk alone, at least for now.
"Alright," Dahlia replied, forcing a smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears, her heart heavy with the weight of their parting. She nodded, her expression a mask of composure, even as her emotions churned beneath the surface, a storm of gratitude, worry, and regret.
"Take care," Princess Lucy said, her lips curving into a gentle, bittersweet smile, her eyes warm with affection as she turned to leave, her hair catching the flickering light of the hearth, casting a soft halo around her regal figure. She paused briefly at the door, her hand resting on the frame, as if reluctant to step out into the cold, uncertain world beyond. Jones followed close behind, her leopard ears twitching nervously, her posture stiff but loyal, a silent shadow to the princess's radiant presence. With a final glance over her shoulder, Lucy offered Dahlia a parting smile, a gesture of warmth and reassurance, before stepping out into the evening chill, the door closing softly behind her, the sound echoing in the now-silent room.
"I wonder when we'll see each other again," Dahlia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes fixed on the empty doorway, the space where her friend had stood moments before now filled with an aching void. She felt a pang of loneliness, a hollow ache that settled in her chest, the weight of their parting magnified by the uncertainty of the future, the dangers that loomed on the horizon for them both. The room, once warmed by their shared laughter and conversation, now felt cold and empty, the flickering flames of the hearth doing little to banish the chill that seeped into her heart.
She sank back into her chair, her fingers tracing the edge of the table, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, her thoughts drifting to Catherine, to the friend who remained trapped in a cage, her fate uncertain, her future bleak. "I need to find a way to see Catherine, to speak with her face-to-face," Dahlia thought, her brow furrowing with determination, her eyes narrowing as she considered her options, the obstacles that stood in her way. "Perhaps in a few days, I can convince her to come with me to Sedona City, to escape the chains of her noble birth, to find a new life far from the capital's intrigues and expectations."
The idea was bold, almost reckless, but it kindled a spark of hope in Dahlia's heart, a flicker of possibility amidst the darkness of despair. Sedona City, with its promise of freedom and opportunity, seemed the perfect refuge, a place where Catherine could shed the burdens of her title, where they could both start anew, unencumbered by the past. But the practicalities loomed large—how could she persuade Catherine to abandon everything she knew, to defy her father, to risk the wrath of a duke whose power was as vast as it was unforgiving? And even if Catherine agreed, how could they escape the watchful eyes of the capital, the spies and informants who lurked in every shadow, reporting back to those who sought to control their lives?
Dahlia sighed, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her thoughts, her fingers tightening around the ceramic cup before her, its warmth a fleeting comfort against the cold reality of her situation. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with danger, a path lined with risks and uncertainties, but she also knew she could not stand idly by, could not abandon her friend to a fate she did not deserve. There had to be a way, a plan, a solution—she just needed time to find it, to gather her resources, to summon the courage to act.
The fire in the hearth crackled, its flames casting dancing shadows on the walls, a silent witness to Dahlia's resolve, her determination to fight for her friend, to defy the forces that sought to tear them apart. Outside, the wind howled through the streets of the capital, a mournful sound that echoed the turmoil in her heart, a reminder of the challenges that awaited her, the battles she must face, the sacrifices she must make. But amidst the storm, Dahlia clung to a single, unyielding truth—she would not give up, not on Catherine, not on their friendship, not on the hope of a better future.
As the night deepened, Dahlia rose from her chair, her movements deliberate, her eyes gleaming with a quiet strength, a resolve forged in the crucible of adversity. She crossed the room to the window, her gaze drifting to the darkened streets below, the city sprawling before her, a labyrinth of secrets and dangers, a battlefield where she must navigate with care and cunning. "I'll find a way," She whispered to herself, her voice a vow, a promise, a declaration of intent. "For Catherine, for Lucy, for all of us—I'll find a way."
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