After the exhausting meeting with the Empress, Althea's steps toward her room felt heavy. The magnificent palace corridor seemed like an endless, long tunnel, adorned with paintings of noble faces that seemed to stare at her with judgment. She wanted to arrive quickly, isolate herself behind her room door, which at least offered an illusion of security.
However, a sound forced her to stop mid-journey.
The voice was faint, almost swallowed by the rustle of leaves blown in from the open window. It was suppressed sobbing, like someone desperately trying not to be heard.
"Don't interfere," whispered her cautious rationale.
Althea tried to continue, feigning deafness. But then, a familiar streak of long blonde hair caught the wind, glittering softly behind a clump of rose bushes near a small fountain. It was the hair of the Empress's daughter, the girl with the sad eyes she had briefly seen in the tearoom.
Her heart stirred. She distinctly remembered the girl's expression, a deep resignation, a sadness that seemed deeply rooted.
Quickly, Althea turned to her retinue of servants, including Morfida. She put on the most innocent and eager expression she could muster, her eyes sparkling falsely.
"Oh dear, I forgot! I have something very... very secret that I must do in the garden!" she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, clapping her hands lightly. "All of you, return to my room first. I will follow!"
Some servants exchanged doubtful glances. But Morfida, who understood Althea's body language perfectly, immediately took charge.
"Very well, My Lady," she said in an obedient tone, throwing a look that made the other servants bow their heads. "We will wait in the room."
With still doubtful looks, the servants turned and left. Once they were out of sight, Althea's "foolish" expression instantly vanished, replaced by tension and slight anxiety. She took a deep breath before approaching the source of the crying.
She found the young Princess, sitting cross-legged behind the bush, her beautiful face wet with tears and red from suppressed weeping. She was hiding her face between her knees.
When Althea's shadow fell upon her, the Princess looked up, startled. Her eyes, blue as the sky, widened, full of fear and wounded pride.
"You...! What are you doing here?" she snapped, hastily wiping away her tears. "Are you stalking me? Is this your way of mocking me?"
Althea did not answer. She simply sat down on the grass next to the girl, calmly. She tilted her head to the left, gazing at the Princess with the blank expression she had mastered perfectly.
"When someone is sad," Althea finally said, her voice soft and innocent, "don't they need to be heard? I heard that. They say, one cure for sadness is being listened to, Princess."
The Princess laughed bitterly, her gaze full of suspicion. "Do you think I'm stupid? Telling my bad side to the future Crown Princess? Is this a joke to you? Are you mocking me?"
Althea frowned, appearing genuinely confused. "Mocking? Why would I mock? What difference does it make if I am the future Crown Princess or not? Besides, how could I do that, Princess? I, Althea, a baron's illegitimate child, mocking a princess who is so beautiful and adored throughout this empire?"
The calm and sincere confusion emanating from Althea or at least, what looked very convincing left the Princess speechless for a moment. Her anger receded, replaced by confusion.
Seeing the opening, Althea continued, looking far towards the fountain.
"I suddenly remember," she said, her voice shifting to become deeper and more heartfelt, "I have a sad story. About a close friend of mine who now... feels very far away."
She began to tell the story. The tale of a girl who had no parents, who one day, as if blessed, gained a new family. A father and mother who welcomed her. Then, in time, she also gained a younger sibling.
"To her, that family meant everything. They were her saviors," Althea whispered. "Because of that, she was never jealous when her father and mother's affection lessened and was given to her new sibling. Instead, slowly, she thought she had to repay that debt. She had to give the best for her family."
Althea described how her friend worked hard, giving all her money, even delaying her own dreams. All of this was done with one hope: that her family would continue to love her.
"But," Althea continued, her voice trembling slightly, "the truth turned out to be so... piercing. Everything she did was never truly valued. She was not a child of that family. She was merely... a cash cow. Someone destined to be indebted for life. There was no sincere affection. Only pretense to gain profit from the cow."
She paused, letting the sadness in her story hang in the air.
"Because she was so hurt, my friend left. She left her family and decided to live and work only for herself. Then, whether it was karma for leaving them, or perhaps God loved her and didn't want her to suffer longer..." Althea looked directly into the Princess's eyes, "...my friend died in solitude, Princess."
The Princess's blue eyes widened, the story touching something very deep in her soul.
Althea then asked in a quiet voice, "Your Highness, what do you think... about my friend? Is she also pitiful in your eyes?"
The Princess froze. New tears welled up in her eyes, but this time they were not tears of anger or shame. They were tears of recognition. Tears for a "friend" who never existed, but whose suffering sounded so real and so much like her own.
She stared at Althea, the woman she considered foolish and harmless, and for the first time, she saw a flash of unexpected depth. Her defensive walls cracked.
With a slow, heavy movement, the Princess shifted her body, sitting closer to Althea on the grass. Her expensive silk dress slumped onto the ground, no longer mindful of the dust or dirt.
"I... I don't know," she finally whispered, her voice hoarse and full of doubt. "Did your friend... really die?"
Althea did not answer immediately. She stared straight ahead, toward the continuously flowing fountain, as if seeing painful shadows of the past. Then, slowly, she nodded. A heavy nod, full of mournful certainty.
"I... I also have a friend," the Princess began to speak again, her voice growing fainter, as if afraid to be heard even by the palace walls. "I don't know if this is sad or not. My friend is a princess in a very distant land. She... is just like me."
She took a deep breath, gathering her courage.
"She was born a woman. And you know, right?" Her gaze met Althea's, full of bitterness held back for a lifetime. "Being a woman is a curse for us. From the beginning, we have no choice. Even if we try very hard to prove ourselves... the reality is, no one ever acknowledged it."
"Then, after trying so hard," she continued, her voice beginning to tremble, "she was... expelled. More precisely, she was married off to a king in another country. A king much older than her and known to be very cruel." Tears began to fall on her pale cheeks. "But do you know? For her mother... that King was a blessing. She tried to arrange a marriage for my friend, hoping her child could be 'useful,' could provide strong relations for... for her brother."
The Princess wiped her tears. Suppressing her sobs.
"What exactly was my friend's fault? She did her best. She excelled in many things. But why? Why was she exploited through someone else? Couldn't her mother just trust and utilize her own daughter? Her strength, intelligence, wisdom, whatever it was. Couldn't her daughter also do that? So why... hiccup"
Again, agonizing silence enveloped them. The Princess hugged her knees, trying to contain the sobs that threatened to erupt. Althea only listened, her gaze gentle and accepting, providing a safe space for the Princess to pour out her heart.
"How does your friend feel?" Althea finally asked, her voice very soft, like morning dew. "Is she... alright?"
The Princess shook her head, unable to hold back her tears any longer. "No," she sobbed. "My friend... is not alright."
Althea then moved slightly closer. "Would you," she said with a deep, soothing voice, "give a message for me to your friend?"
The Princess was surprised, looking at Althea with tear-filled eyes. She nodded slowly, not fully understanding, but finding comfort in the strange offer.
Then, without words, Althea opened her arms and hugged the poor girl tightly. The Princess's body stiffened for a moment before finally going limp, surrendering to the warm and unexpected embrace. Althea gently stroked her fine blonde hair with a maternal touch.
"You did your best," Althea whispered near her ear, her voice full of conviction. "Don't blame yourself."
She pulled back slightly, still holding the Princess's shoulders, and looked directly into her wet eyes.
"Just rest for a bit," she said. "Then... if you can no longer bear it, just ask yourself. What do you want?"
The words hung in the air, foreign yet liberating.
"Then do it." The determination in Althea's voice was clear. "Your life... is your own."
At that moment, behind the mask of foolishness and pretense, the Princess saw a glimmer of light, the light of a woman who perhaps understood her better, who might also be trapped, but still had the courage to ignite the fire of freedom, even if only for someone else. And for the first time in a long time, a small, fragile seed of hope began to grow in her frozen soul.
"Princess, please tell your friend this, okay," Althea said, choosing to release the hug. Smiling very broadly as if she completely believed the Princess's story in front of her.
But was that the truth?
No.
Althea knew everything; the Princess's story did not belong to her friend, but to herself.
And what about Althea's story?
That too was a tightly wrapped lie. About her past, in her previous life.
Thus began this story.
From a mutual, healing lie.
Becoming a long, new story.