— «Are you there? Move your feet faster — while you still have them,» the count's voice, more irritated than usual, cut through the ornate door, summoning me inside.
A worm of foreboding coiled in my chest — and, of course, it was never a good one when it involved anyone from this family.
— «Damn you, bastard,» I muttered under my breath as my hands pressed against the door.
I hadn't the slightest idea what he could want. Unless…
Unless the need for his puppet games had finally pressed upon him.
The door yielded easily — this was no ancient manor, after all.
Yet the study looked… wrong. Off.
The count's desk, usually polished to a gleam, now looked as though someone impulsive and violent had worked over it. Papers lay in crooked layers. Chaos, in short.
Several sheets had been crumpled in anger and tossed to the floor; the inkwell lay overturned.
"What is this…"
"What the hell?"
The count himself stood not behind the desk but beside it, both palms pressed against its surface. His shoulders trembled with tension; his jaw clicked. He didn't even look at me at first — his eyes darted across the desk, as if unable to settle on anything.
"Oh, God."
— «Close the door,» he barked.
I obeyed.
Click.
— «You summoned me?» I asked dryly, deciding that sarcasm wouldn't serve me now. The situation was unknown; the sadist's motives, too.
0:1 in his favour. Damn it.
Bernard finally turned, his back rigid as a taut string. Hollows darker than night stretched beneath his muddy‑yellow eyes. In just the couple of days since we'd last met, his face had grown so gaunt it was nearly impossible to look at without squint grinding.
"Has karma finally caught up with you?"
Tearing my gaze from his features, I noticed a strange object among the papers. When the count stepped away from the desk, a breath of wind shifted the sheets slightly, revealing a letter lying carelessly beneath them, now caught in the light.
A letter addressed to me.
To Ilissa Vanos.
«...»
The sender was noted just below — though I could make it out.
[From C.]
"From C.?"
Apparently noticing my glance, the count shoved the mess back over the thing meant for me.
«Don't touch anything. Ha, you're throwing me off again!»
He rubbed his brow in irritation.
"Just speak faster. The clock is ticking; I want to spend as little time here as possible. With you."
«The ball is approaching; there's little time left.»
«I've heard.»
«Good. That makes it easier. We need a large sum. Urgently — as fast as possible.»
"If I ask why, he won't answer."
«And? I can't quite see the connection.»
«The crown prince will be there.»
Of course. I thought of that the moment Karina told me.
But… — something clicked in my mind, twisting all my thoughts upside down. Like a puzzle beginning to come together.
«No,» I said impulsively, yet instantly, «Don't even continue.»
But he did.
«You will be sweet, charming, compliant with him. You will be the one to occupy his thoughts all evening. You will make him want to reward you. Good work is always well paid.»
«No. No,» I repeated, as if convincing myself. My brows lowered like a heavy weight over my eyelids.
A man's hand settled on my cheek, and a gag reflex rose in my throat. A sour tang hit my nose — though it wasn't alcohol. It was something else.
«Forget the word "no". You are our chance. Our chance to survive. This is all happening because of you, have you forgotten?» his voice was gentle, almost caring, and the sad droop of his lips seemed so terrible. For in the next instant, his fingers on my cheek clenched roughly, and his sweet voice and sorrowful face gave way to a beastly intensity.
«!!!»
«You want to make things right, don't you? And if everything goes flawlessly, perhaps something else will fall into your hands. His attention will be diverted, and he won't notice, say, the disappearance of a certain heavy golden brooch. He has so much — what does he care if one brooch more or less?..»
«You… you've gone mad. You're asking me to seduce the heir to the throne and pick his pockets,» I drawled slowly, feeling everything collapse. «This is the bottom…»
His nails dug into my skin, then released abruptly. Bernard ostentatiously wiped his hands together and smiled coldly, apparently sensing that it wasn't going well.
«We sank to the bottom long ago, Ilissa. Now I'm merely asking you to be a useful girl and help your family. Didn't I teach you obedience? Taming a lioness with milk teeth should be no trouble at all, you know.»
«I won't do it.»
I desperately wanted to destroy this room. This entire mansion. Starting with his face.
I wouldn't mind driving my heel through that yellow eye, then stuffing that very golden brooch into the hole.
But if I did…
[DEATH]
[DEATH]
[DEATH]
Argh! Everything is going wrong! Completely wrong!
«You will. You have no choice. Try to gather your wits and understand, at last. Your mother left you here and ran away herself. So shouldn't you obey me unquestioningly, as if your mouth were sewn shut and your hands bound?»
My head spun; my thoughts raged against the words flooding in. They echoed, jumbling one over another. There was no room left for my own thoughts, as if someone were trying to fill my mind's memory with viral spam.
You will. No choice. You will. Mother… Obey. No choice. Mother left. Understand.
I mustn't listen to him! I wanted something else!
I wanted… I wanted…
My hands clutched at the roots of my hair, as if to tear it out with my scalp. Maybe that would end it…
«Don't harm yourself,» the searing chill of a small folding knife's blade traced beneath my chin, lifting it so I could meet his utterly mad, empty eyes, «I can do that for you.»
«...»
With the back of the blade, he traced down my neck to my collarbone, then snapped it shut.
Click.
All thoughts fell silent at once.
I could think of nothing more.
«...»
My heart beat too slowly, though mere seconds ago it had been ready to leap from my chest, leaving a gaping hole.
«This is a mistake.»
My tone was steady and calm, unnatural — it deceived the man as I backed toward the exit. Even I couldn't tell what exactly was the mistake.
There were so many possibilities.
---------
Shirk‑, shirk‑
«Well…»
Shirk‑
«Come on».
«My lady, um… Who is that? Is she your acquaintance?»
«…»
I took another look at the drawing I'd just finished.
A pale, thin girl with jet‑black hair, dishevelled as usual, wearing a burgundy coat and grey jeans. Her brown eyes had a distant look, completely uninterested in anything…
«Hardly. Apparently… She's the one drowning in her own arrogance».
I cracked my neck.
Nothing was working.
Neither the half‑drunk green tea nor the sketch…
It was all pointless.
The shift hadn't happened.
Karina didn't understand a thing, but tactfully kept silent.
Only now did I realise that I'd actually been living quite well…
Yes, I was lonely. Isolated, left to my own devices my whole life.
I wasn't accepted, wasn't understood. I wasn't anyone important.
But at least I didn't have to see two complete psychopaths every day, who took pleasure in my suffering.
«…»
"I don't think I'd be so patient if I were Ilissa".
"No one's waiting for me in the real world, so it's time to go all out!"
"Damn you, Li Cha‑Si".
No wonder they say a word is not a sparrow — be afraid of your desires…
I slumped my head onto the table, feeling the cold surface and rough sheets against my cheek.
"You probably had no choice either», I thought about Ilissa, «But you managed to escape from here. That deserves praise. But what about me? What should I do?"
Had I died in my own world?
A sudden nosebleed, a strange glow… I couldn't figure out why it had happened.
«…»
------
«This is a fucking mess».
«My lady, what did I tell you about swearing?..»
I stared blankly at the selection of dresses.
The day of the ball in honour of the Archduke had arrived.
And when had my day ever gone without problems?
«Do you have any more polite way to put it?»
«Not sure».
Three dresses hung on a rolling rack. Their number didn't bother me, but…
Each one was far too revealing. The first clung too tightly to the figure. The second had an enormous cut‑out down to the navel. And where exactly was one supposed to wear the third?
And it had clearly been done on purpose.
The Emperor had sent us all new clothes, citing a «mishap» with a fire. And I'd bet everything I owned (and didn't own) that the count had already taken care of my wardrobe.
"So I won't have to strain my brain for the perfect plan to win the prince's bed".
I pulled down my lower eyelids with my fingers.
«Karina, would you be so kind as to bring me some scissors?»
«Why?» she asked, uncharacteristically bold, «What do you need scissors for, my lady?»
Haa‑
«To perform harakiri on myself».
She let out a stunned gasp and muttered something in protest. But I wasn't listening…
Because something had to be decided.
"And what exactly can be decided here?"
«I won't wear any of this — not for anything, even if you kill me», I said, pointing my index finger at the selection and sweeping it in a careless gesture.
«My lady…» A third person's voice came from beyond the door as a knock sounded and it slowly swung open.
«?»
«Quick on your feet, aren't you», I quipped, «Citea».
«Good evening, my lady. I happened to overhear — I'm sorry».
«Yeah…»
«Citea…» Karina whispered in disapproval to her friend.
«But don't rush to scold me. I have something».
«Mhm, and what might that be? A revolver?»
I didn't even spare a glance for Karina, who had little sense of humour.
«Nope. Since you're clearly having trouble with the party dresses, it seems Citea might have a solution».
«…»
I wasn't hoping for a miracle. But I was curious to hear what this nimble girl had come up with.
Citea glanced back at the door, then whispered to me:
«The Emperor didn't send only these. I saw… There are more in the storeroom. I can bring them, if you'd like to take a look».
«Hm».
This plan was very bad and dangerous. After all, it was clear what the consequences of my «independence» would be. Still…
«Please do».
The trousers and a red patterned blouse I'd picked out of the general box lay spread out on the bed.
«This looks decent. Not too flashy, not too dull for a ball».
«You have good taste», the voluminous‑haired girl murmured, pleased with her helpfulness.
Just as my hand reached for the black trousers, the door bent under a series of knocks.
Knock‑knock‑knock.
«What on earth…»
«Hey, are you almost ready?!» — Geraldine's muffled voice.
«Ah… What time is the ball?» I asked the girls.
«At seven o'clock, my lady».
I squinted at the clock.
"Plenty of time. If I go out like this now, everything will be ruined".
«Damn it…»
«What?!» my brother shouted, irritated.
«Just a thought. Almost done — no need to worry. Plenty of time».
Having finished dressing — not forgetting the accessories: a handsome belt, earrings, and rings — having applied makeup and brushed my hair, I sat on the edge of the bed. The two maids perched on chairs nearby, clearly worried about my plan.
«Don't worry, Lady Ilissa! If His Grace gets angry, we'll…» — one began, but broke off with an — «Ouch!»
Karina had suddenly kicked her friend in the shin.
«Better keep quiet…»
«…»
Knock‑knock‑knock!
«Again».
«Hey, you dimwit! If you've forgotten, we're not heading anywhere ordinary — we're off to the Imperial Palace! Do you want to get us branded as fools?!» His voice grew more urgent and demanding.
"Calm your backside. The moment I show my face, I'll be off to charm the studs at the brothel. Better to finish just in time — so there's no chance for a change of clothes".
Everything I did was ruining me. The count was clearly on edge, and each of my antics only worsened his mood. It felt like hopelessness — not a pleasant sensation at all.
«All right, I'm coming in — I don't care what you're doing in there…»
«All right, all right — I'm coming out!» I called, stepping toward the door.
My hand grew slightly sweaty as it slid over the doorknob.
Phew-
«We'll be praying for you!» Citea announced quietly but firmly.
"That's unnecessary".
Click.
Gerald stood before me, his expression shifting far too quickly.
«You… What have you been doing in there?!»
I couldn't tell if he was angry or confused. Did he know what my mission for today really was?
Not that it mattered.
I left him without an answer, striding past.
By the carriage waited someone whose reaction I… feared? awaited?
He turned his head toward me, and in that same instant his pinched face twisted.
«Ilissa!» he shouted loudly, and a chill ran down my spine. I'd never imagined I'd react this way to a secondary character.
«We're running late».
«Don't try to sweet‑talk me! What are you doing, you bitch?! Don't you understand?!» He grabbed my wrist in his usual fashion.
«…»
«Are you really that slow‑witted?! Or do you dare mock your father?! You think nothing of me?! I'll soon show you…»
«Sir, time is running out».
The coachman turned to us indifferently, reminding us of the hour — and in doing so, saved me.
I knew Bernard wouldn't harm me — not yet.
Not while no bruises could be left on my body. But time would tell. I couldn't stay in the Imperial Palace forever, beyond the count's reach.
«Don't think I'll let this go».
----
The façades of the fairy‑tale palace, seemingly built of crystal, reflected the glowing lights.
Every window, every balcony bore decorations of floral arrangements. It was as if a gathering of forest fairies had illuminated the structure the night before. The darkness only enhanced the contrast, and the stars served as ambassadors of beauty.
If I lived in the palace, I'd probably spend entire days exploring every corner. Not to mention trying to guess how much all this actually cost! After so many zeroes, I'd definitely need to consult a specialist.
As they say — less you know, better you sleep.
Gerald didn't hold back his own version of an awestruck «Wow» or «Whoa». He ruffled his deep‑blue hair, forgetting about his hairstyle, and hastily tried to fix it before the count noticed.
"What an idiot…"
I pressed a hand to my face, thinking. Though of course, I was hardly one to throw around insults.
«…»
I didn't need to glance sideways to feel my father's devouring stare. I'd ruined his impression of the evening ahead, thoroughly spitting in his face. Yet he'd still managed to wipe himself clean on me.
That conversation in the carriage…
«…»
"But that's hardly the most surprising order. Compared to what came before…"
«Ilissa».
Suddenly, that very voice — the one that instantly made me want to clutch a basin — sounded from the side.
I didn't turn around. Pretended to be too absorbed in the palace ahead.
«Is it comfortable? Nothing pinching, nothing sticking out?»
"Feeling like joking?"
Bernard was pressing on a wound that didn't yet exist, but had already become a trigger. I was sure he'd already devised my punishment — he was just circling the well he'd soon push me into.
I pursed my glossy lips and nodded, letting my thoughtful gaze wander over the façades.
«Quite comfortable, Father».
«Yes! Why on earth did you… Dress up like…»
My brother appeared swiftly at my side, beginning to chatter indignantly:
«…Like the rules don't apply to you! And you ignored me, can you imagine, Father?»
"Go on, nag me, then run to Daddy to cry on his shoulder. That's what you always do".
Nowhere did it say a lady couldn't prefer trousers. Yes, it was utterly bold and willful — especially for someone like me. But they couldn't actually hold it against me. Perhaps the crown prince would think me «eccentric» and keep his distance.
«Ah, this is…»
«Hm?.. God?»
The moment our trio stepped through the gates, countless pairs of eyes turned to us.
«…»
«There's the Vanos family», «Didn't have to wait long» — whispers like that filled the air.
I smirked as my ear caught a lady's remark:
«What's going on with Lady Ilissa?»
«A wretched daughter — and in trousers? Mother…»
The count strode off somewhere, shaking hands with men in suits. Yet their faces showed little pleasure.
"I wonder — does he really not see it, or is he playing the fool?"
Gerald wandered off to join some younger men. A few in the group exchanged short chuckles…
"Good".
Well, I had no reason to worry.
«Ha…»
My solitude granted me a break — from my family and from this balding society.
"Nothing new. Nothing's changed…"
Yet the thought felt more joyful than sorrowful.
"So Grandma's prophecy really came true, huh? Ha‑ha, what a surreal thing".
I remembered the past. It happened when I — Cha‑Si — turned nineteen. Some devil made me visit a fortune‑teller famous in certain circles.
«Hello».
«Sit down, sonnim».
* Sonnim in Korea means a guest or client.
I sat on the scarlet‑velvet cushion of a creaky chair. The woman, with long black eyeliner strokes and unevenly painted lips, didn't lift her eyelids — she simply gestured with her palm.
«You came after all».
My hand twitched unconsciously. All these rituals weren't for me — I felt out of place.
«Did you expect me? How… Why?»
«People like you always come. The only question is why».
Her voice didn't pause for a moment, as if talking to me was something utterly ordinary and clear to her.
«I… I don't really know».
That was the truth.
«Is it your birthday?»
«Yes». I tried to hide my uncertainty and nervousness with quick answers and a straight back. But it probably wasn't working well.
The fortune‑teller nodded and, skipping formalities, took my cold hand in hers.
«Don't look at the table — look at the flame. It always reveals the truth».
She gestured toward the candle. In the half‑darkness, the glow of the flame captured all attention — it felt hypnotic, I swear.
«There's another's will upon you», she finally said in a lower voice, «But you're enabling it yourself. You let it guide you».
«Another's will?» I asked, frowning, already feeling this was some ridiculous scam. «What exactly have they put on me?»
The woman either didn't hear me or pretended not to — instead, she said something entirely different.
«The universe doesn't favour the unique. It loves to repeat successful forms. Again. And again. And again…»
Her fingers slid across the table.
«You are the first, but not the last. The others are just reflections, echoes in a mirror maze».
The air grew thick. I felt goosebumps run down my back.
«One who fears to take a step — and so prevents others from taking theirs. Everyone stays in place…»
«What does that mean?» I wasn't amused anymore. It was creepy. To spout such nonsense with such a confident face — that's a talent…
Crack!
The candle cracked; wax dripped onto the lace tablecloth.
«You're slowly nurturing this will, growing it within you like your own core. But this core is too hot at both ends, Cha‑Si».
«My name…»
«I didn't tell her…»
I exhaled sharply.
«You're like a cat. Scared, beaten down. You hide even when the cage is open. And so…» — the pause stretched — «you won't change».
She abruptly pushed my hands away and pulled out a deck of cards. It was unsettling…
Slap‑slap‑slap.
Three cards hit the table.
«…»
The Reversed Fool, the Moon, and…
Death.
«!!!»
The fortune‑teller looked into my brown eyes and continued firmly:
«You are alone. Always have been, always will be. You'll die alone too… Death is no exception».
«Enough!» I jumped up from the chair, feeling my blood start to boil — but was it from anger or fear? «This is too much».
«It grows not in strength, but in insatiable hatred».
Creaaak.
A floorboard creaked under my step as I turned to leave, throwing out one last line:
«You're insane».
"Yeah, I'll never forget that day. The best nineteenth‑birthday present ever, no doubt".
I stood by the wall, holding a slender glass of something bitter. Within a five‑metre radius, not a single soul — while the vast hall swarmed with people. All in festive, vibrant attire. All spick and span, cheerful…
Elegance and glamour fed their voracious inner hunger, and they were ready to play along just to sate their craving for beauty.
«…»
Uuurrr‑
"Damn, hungry as if I just crawled out of the wild forest".
Realising I should stock up while I could, I spotted a servant with a tray.
«Here, please enjoy…»
He squinted, seeming nervous, and held out the tray of hors d'oeuvres.
"Should I take the whole lot? Or is that too much?"
Limiting myself to just one plate of tartlets, I swiftly emptied it and offloaded the dish onto someone else.
"Ah, that's better!"
Suddenly…
«His Grace Archduke Ottls Fortis‑Regum and Her Highness Princess Taylor Fortis‑Regum have arrived!»
My ears itched for some reason. I shifted my gaze to the entrance.
Like a beacon in the surrounding darkness, two figures — father and daughter — drew every eye. The crowd regarded the incoming aristocrats as something incomprehensible and astonishing. A tall man, not untouched by time, with stubble, half‑grey hair, and piercing blue eyes, wore an elaborate suit and lazily smiled at the dukes and other powerful men, revealing a gold tooth.
"Ottls, the one who came from the North. And that's…"
— «…»
Beside him, back straight as a string, pale skin, short brown hair, and grey eyes like street haze, she allowed herself only the briefest of smiles — mere fractions of a second — while her face otherwise maintained a demure calm. And all would have been fine, but her outfit caught my attention. Because… she wasn't wearing a dress.
"Oh?"
The princess removed her fur cape, revealing trousers — green, embroidered, high‑waisted. They confidently accentuated both her figure and her presence.
The top was more complex: two straps, embellished with stones and house symbols, interwoven into a multi‑layered garment, sleeveless.
And my gaze involuntarily drifted to her back…
From the waist hung a long, asymmetrical detail — not a skirt. Narrow and elongated, it trailed like a shadow of a dress. The fabric was lighter, gathering and almost flowing.
"So I'm not the only public jester tonight, then?"
«Where have the Archduke and the Anti‑Princess been?» a girl in the crowd whispered.
"Anti‑Princess… A nickname, just like mine".
«Lady Sekki, don't you know? His Grace and Her Highness lived in the North for several years, but conditions have worsened lately… They had to return home, to the Empire».
«Ah, so that's it! What on earth could've forced them to leave the North?»
«Lady, you really are uninformed, forgive me!»
«Huh?»
«…»
Sometimes the noise broke my focus, but I tried to listen to the two girls' conversation.
«Mother said to watch my tongue, but it's so strange! The North is getting colder, the South is getting hotter. And so are we! Last year's average temperature was different from this year's. I heard many livestock died…»
«That's true…»
«?!»
Unconsciously, I ended up right next to the girls, thoughtfully rubbing my chin. They turned whiter than corpses and shrieked, darting away from me.
"Am I really that scary?"
A chill ran down my spine as I felt someone's gaze…
«?»
«…»
I'd caught Taylor's attention.
"Why is she…"
Her grey eyes swept over me, lingering on my trousers.
"Ah, should I start a club of shared interests?"
For a second, it felt like the noise around us faded. Like we were alone — two figures, white pawns among black ones. Me — an outcast, her — an exception. Different reasons, same outcome.
She seemed a bit surprised.
"Her eyebrow twitched…"
«You're not the only one who's gone mad».
«…»
I turned toward the voice. Familiar.
Gerald.
Arms folded across his chest, he stared ahead with half‑lidded eyes.
Today, neatly pressed, wearing a black tie that had been tightened by someone's delicate female hands. One strand of hair escaped his strict hairstyle, highlighting his idiotic nature dressed up in a business suit.
"Is he watching me now? He startled me".
«Are you scared?»
My brother smirked, as if he had no interest in talking to me and I was the one pestering him.
«What?»
«That Father might forget about you altogether».
«!!»
His nose instantly reddened, his haughty face deflating.
I pressed my point blindly — and it worked. Too well.
«You…»
His fist clenched until his fingers turned blue.
«I hope your tongue gets shortened to the root today. Otherwise, I'll have to do it myself!»
I realised this topic was somehow particularly painful for him. I wanted to slip away quietly — but he got there first.
«…»
He darted to the table and downed a glass of wine.
"Well, that's for the best".
Still…
That conversation between the ladies. The climate is changing? Should I pay more attention to that? What's going on?
«One headache after another…»
I found myself by a table and followed Gerald's example.
Surp.
A special bustle unfolded in the far end of the hall — where the golden throne stood, the only one of its kind.
And there, right in place, sat His Majesty the Emperor.
«Ha‑ha, dear guests!»
A tall man with golden hair — only a few strands bleached by time — and neatly trimmed sideburns. Eyes the colour of the deep sea, pale skin, a scar on his nose — all woven together into a perfectly handsome appearance, only slightly touched by age. This man was beautiful even at his years.
"You'd never guess he and the Count are the same age. Adam is perfect, like a Greek god".
«We salute the Sun of the Empire, His Majesty the Emperor!» guests called out from every side.
Attention focused on that half of the hall. As a semicircle of people formed, I was pushed forward: as the Count's offspring, I couldn't stay at the back.
While the Emperor conversed with the aristocrats, seated on his throne, I scanned the pedestal. Ottls had stepped up beside it, adjusting the edges of his purple vest. Taylor stood near her father, hands folded before her.
As a daughter of a collateral branch, she couldn't afford to be anything less than beautiful. Not a single flaw. Her seemingly soft hair, cut in a style akin to a modern mullet, framed her neck, barely reaching its end.
"One might even say our Princess doesn't follow the society's established traditions".
By now, the entire royal family had gathered.
To the side of the Emperor, standing with a leisurely, relaxed air, shifting from one foot to another, was a man who looked like the Emperor's spitting image — only much younger.
The same gold‑coloured hair, which he seemed not to have spent a single minute styling — it just fell naturally as it should, with a touch of deliberate carelessness. His eyes didn't reflect the sky, nor did they hold warmth — they held movement, slow and dangerous like an undercurrent. As if it would drag you under if you stepped too close.
If one pretended to be someone who could see through another at first glance, one might guess what kind of man he was. A prince with no single thought of ingratiating himself with society. His own comfort mattered most, and his disinterested face wasn't hidden behind a mask.
"So here he is. The one whose life I saved. And the one I'm supposed to charm and manipulate".
I glanced at Bernard — as luck would have it, he and his son stood on the opposite side from me, as if Heaven itself had blessed me. He was eagerly trying to wedge a word into the conversation among the Emperor's men and courtiers.
«And then…»
At the very edge, standing as straight as if she had a rod down her back, was a rather young woman. Her red, fluffy hair rested on her shoulders, adorned with a couple of white flowers. Light‑blue eyes with pitch‑black, thick lashes trembled slightly, as if these preparations had tired her — yet pleased her.
She embraced her daughter, smiling radiantly. The girl was so petite she resembled a doll. With features identical to her father — fair hair and blue eyes as her main charm. Porcelain skin with delicate makeup, a pink voluminous dress with a wasp waist…
«Oh».
Her ribcage twitched unnaturally — as if she'd been pulled too tight, making it hard to breathe. Though, looking at that waist, it didn't seem far‑fetched. She was short in stature, and even with high heels — as I'd briefly read in the novel — her crown barely reached the neck of an average lady.
Everyone was here. The Head, that is, the Emperor Adam. His son, the primary heir, Aesk. His brother, Archduke Ottls, and his daughter, the (Anti)Princess Taylor. The Emperor's concubine, mother of his second child, Princess Saenna.
"What a predicament I've found myself in. Undoubtedly beautiful, like in fairy tales. Elegant, refined… Hard to believe it's real. But…"
— «…»
"This is happening to no one else but me. Every word, every action will have an impact. I can do… just about anything".
This strange feeling… It excited, emboldened, and terrified me all at once.
And then, I caught the Count's voice:
«I'm immensely pleased by Your Grace's return home. I hasten to inform you… My daughter, Ilissa Vanos, wishes to offer her sincere apologies».
«Is that so? Well then, I'll listen».
«…»