The mighty Kingdom of Renalis finally fell after a brutal war that lasted three years. This grueling conflict left deep, unforgettable scars between the peoples of both nations. As the war came to an end, the Renalis nobility were executed one by one, and those fortunate enough to escape death were taken as slaves. The streets of Renalis were plunged into chaos.
Meanwhile, in the Kingdom of Lindre, there was great jubilation over their victory. Though the general populace wasn't in the best condition, things were going quite well for the Lindre nobility. A victory celebration of unprecedented scale was held at the Royal Palace—unlike anything seen in the kingdom's history. Nobles and knights from all across the realm were summoned, honored in a grand ceremony, and later feasted and danced the night away, with various performances lighting up the evening.
Amid the joy and revelry of the night, there was one young girl who didn't quite belong. She stood tensely at the far end of the corridor leading to the grand hall, far from the lights and the laughter. Hidden in the shadows, as if trying not to be seen, she quietly murmured to herself. Her lips repeated the same word again and again:
"I... can do this... I can do this..."
The young girl's voice was so faint, even she could barely hear it. Her hands shook, and sweat trickled down her body as warmth flooded over her. She tried to calm herself, but it wasn't working. Finally, she shut her eyes and drew in a deep breath.
"Alright..."
With one last word of encouragement to herself, she began to move. Head lowered, she started walking down the corridor. She noticed the people she passed with each step, but her body refused to let her lift her head and meet their eyes. She knew full well that not greeting the guests was terribly rude, but simply making it this far was all she could manage for now.
When she reached the celebration hall, she finally lifted her head. The first thing her eyes searched for were familiar faces. Of course, she wasn't imagining any warm conversations with them. In truth, the moment she saw them, her plan was to avoid them entirely.
There were no familiar faces in sight. The only thing that stood out to her was the refreshment table stationed at the edge of the room. She walked over, picked up a drink without much thought, and began to sip it. But then—
A sudden voice rang out behind her, causing her to flinch.
"Lady Alia!"
Alia turned around nervously. A woman dressed in a maid's uniform, holding a tray of drinks, was looking directly at her. There was a worried expression on her face.
"Huh… Ah… Edith…"
A sense of relief washed over Alia as she recognized the woman in front of her. It was truly a great stroke of luck that the very person she had been thinking of had found her.
"Shouldn't you be waiting in your room, Lady Alia?"
"Uh… I… I wanted to come."
Edith gazed at Alia with a look of concern. After a quick glance around the room, she spoke again.
"…Lady Alia, it would be better for you to stay in your room."
"…"
There was no response from Alia. Her head was lowered, and she stood silently. Edith set the tray down on the table.
"…Alright. I'll accompany you for a while. But afterward, I ask you to go back to your room without any issues."
"Thank you, Edith."
Alia let out a deep sigh. She now knew that, in the event of anything going wrong, she could at least rely on Edith's help. This feeling of security allowed her to relax a little.
"Let's not stay here. It would be better if we move over there, Lady Alia."
Edith gestured with her head toward a window at the far side of the hall. Since the window was in a more remote corner, it wasn't surrounded by people. Alia followed Edith, who began walking ahead.
Alia felt uneasy, knowing that she was constantly causing trouble for Edith. She feared losing the only person she could trust by wearing her out. But she also knew she couldn't continue like this.
As they reached the window, Alia took a sip from her drink and began watching the crowd outside. The sense of calm from her relaxation allowed her to observe her surroundings more clearly. People had gathered in groups, laughing and talking together. The night was unfolding beautifully.
Alia's eyes were drawn to a certain young man. Tall and built, he stood out with his charisma. His confident posture and assured demeanor made it clear that, even if he didn't do a thing, he could still steal the spotlight. Two elegantly dressed women, whose beauty seemed unbeatable, were chatting with him eagerly.
Seeing these people, Alia couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. In her mind, she imagined herself being part of that scene. Was it possible for her to become someone like that? The answer didn't take long to find.
"Never give up, do you, Lady Alia?"
For her already fragile state of mind, it was a difficult question to face. Her lips began to tremble. Her body once again reverted to that familiar state she despised. Struggling to hold back her tears, she responded.
"…Do you think I should give up?"
Edith noticed that Alia was in a bad state. She hesitated, unsure whether to continue or stop. After a moment of thought, she concluded that stopping would only make things worse for Alia.
"I believe it would be better for you to marry a mid-ranking noble and live in a quiet, modest corner of the country."
Alia couldn't find the words to respond to what she had heard. In truth, she recognized that Edith's words were reasonable. Sadly, knowing that didn't lessen the pain of hearing them.
Suddenly, Alia was gripped firmly by the shoulders. Edith quickly turned her face toward her, a distressed look on her own.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Lady Alia. I said terrible things. Please forgive me…"
Tears were falling from Edith's eyes. Alia quickly lowered Edith's hands from her shoulders and tried to calm her down.
"It's fine, it's fine. I know you're saying this because you're worried about me. We're at a celebration right now."
Edith quickly composed herself and turned forward with a calm demeanor. There was no trace of her earlier distress, yet the words that left her lips were the same.
"I'm sorry..."
"I understand, Edith. It's really fine. I've been thinking about it myself for a while now. It's not like there's anything I can actu—"
While speaking, Alia's eyes landed on someone they shouldn't have. At the center of the grand hall, standing atop the stairs, was a middle-aged woman dressed in regal attire, speaking with her guests. But unlike the others, this woman wore a crown upon her head.
Their eyes met—just for a moment. And in that moment, the woman's pleasant smile faded, replaced by a disapproving scowl.
".."
The expression on the woman's face hit Alia like a sudden splash of icy water. Sensing the shift, Edith quietly interjected.
"I think it would be wise for you to leave now, Lady Alia."
"..I know. Thank you, Edith. I'll go now."
Alia knew she had to leave immediately. She walked briskly toward the refreshment table and set her glass down. Then she headed back the way she had come in.
"Alia!"
A voice called out from behind her—unfortunately, a voice she hadn't wanted to hear. She turned around slowly. A strikingly beautiful young woman in a bold red dress was waving at her. For just a moment, her face hardened at the sight of Alia. Two well-dressed men stood beside her, clearly in the middle of a pleasant conversation just moments ago. Alia gave a hesitant wave in return.
"...Sister Isolde."
The woman calling out to her was Alia's sister—Isolde Almodis Lindre, the middle princess of Lindre. Isolde stood out with her tall stature, magnificent hair, and striking figure. Alia hesitantly walked toward the group gathered around her.
"Hmm… Sister? Then you must be Princess Alia, am I right?"
It was a handsome young man who had asked the question, his tone warm and curious. His blond hair and piercing blue eyes focused intently on Alia. Crushed beneath the weight of his gaze, Alia spoke with hesitation.
"Y-yes…. I'm Alia Muriel Lindre, a princess of Lindre Kingdom."
At the beginning of her sentence, she stammered, her voice coming out faint and uncertain. The young man appeared a little taken aback by her unusual response, but he was too polite to let it show. Just as he inclined his head to return the greeting, he was cut off by a quiet chuckle.
"Eh… hehe…"
A quite chuckle escaped from Isolde's lips, but just loud enough for those nearby to hear. It seemed she was trying to hold it back. The young man, whose words had just been interrupted, now wore a puzzled expression. Alia, on the other hand, was staring at Isolde with a hardened look on her face.
Isolde let out a few more chuckles before composing herself. Then, with a warm smile, she approached Alia and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Looks like my dear little sister isn't the best when it comes to introductions."
There was a sincere tone in her voice, soft laughter still lingering between her words. Alia, however, continued to stare at her with a blank expression
"Alia... When introducing yourself, you should mention which family you belong to. Otherwise, they might think there's something wrong, don't you think? Or was it the gentleman's good looks that left you speechless? Heh… eh…"
Despite Isolde's teasing tone, her words didn't bring any tension to the atmosphere. The two young men beside her followed the conversation with light smiles. Especially the one who had just received the unexpected compliment wore a slightly shy smile, clearly caught off guard in a pleasant way.
"Ah... Your compliment embarrasses me, Princess Isolde. You wield words far too dangerously."
Isolde smiled contentedly at the young man's genuine reply. The young man then turned back to Aila, bowing once more.
"It is a great honor to meet you, Princess Alia. I am Prince Alden Nenvaris, son of King Soren. The gentleman beside me is Duke Arlec, who governs the Lunindra Duchy of Nenvaris."
At Alden's introduction, Arlec gave a slight bow.
"It's a pleasure to meet you."
Aila responded with a faint smile.
"The fact that your kingdom is blessed with two beauty princess at once is truly a great fortune. The people of Lindre must be very lucky."
Alden fixed his gaze on Alia's eyes and emphasized his compliment with a sincere smile. Alia simply smiled gently in response to the compliment.
".."
"…"
"Alia... We wouldn't want to bore our guests with these long monologues, would we?"
"Oh, no problem at all. Sometimes silence speaks a thousand words."
Isolde wraps her arms around Alia's shoulders, her face wearing a cheeky expression.
"Alia's long pauses actually reflect how deep her heart is, don't they, Alia? You've even been writing poetry lately. How about reading us a verse from your beautiful poems?"
"Do you write poetry? If you don't mind, I'd love to hear it," Alden said, looking at Alia with curious eyes. Isolde wore her usual smile.
"...No. I don't write poetry."
"Aww... Well then, let me make it easier for you, Alia. How about reading us the poem you read to us the other day? I have no doubt that it was a good one."
Isolde was insistent about hearing the poem. Alia, however, remained still, her face seemingly flushed. She slowly brought her hand to her mouth.
"Is something wrong?"
Suddenly, Alia began to run. She dashed out through the corridor, retracing her steps in a panic.
"Ugh.. bleaghh.."
Without warning, she vomited violently. Trembling hands grasped at the wall as she coughed in pain, struggling to stay upright. The corridors and stairways she had run through blurred together, a dizzying maze. She staggered, losing her balance—her body could no longer endure what was happening.
For someone like Alia, who could barely hold a conversation, the things being asked of her were impossible. And to recite a poem she had never written—how could anyone expect that of her?
The painful days she had spent in the palace had left deep wounds. Those wounds were surfacing through her body—anxiety, sweating, shaking, and now… vomiting.
As she threw up, her mind was dragged back to the day when it all began. One painful memory pulled another with it, creating a whirlpool of inescapable grief.
By the time she finally reached her room, her clothes were stained, her body trembling, and her head spinning. She collapsed onto the floor, curled in on herself. All she could do now was wait for the storm to pass.