Chapter 2: Budding Seed

One corner of the greenhouse was bright with gorgeous colors and an equally brilliant atmosphere. It was early afternoon. Two days had passed since my conversation with Queen Henrietta.

It was a sunny day, and although it remained chilly outside, there was a relaxing warmth in the air that enveloped the greenhouse and made it cozy. Music softly trickled between the sound of women’s lighthearted conversation. The blooming foreign flowers and the pristine white snow piled up outside made for a vivid contrast. This sight and the accompanying music bespoke the splendor and art of Sauslind.

The greenhouse was the pride of Sauslind, acting as an entertainment venue for foreign guests. There were several tables inside, but the one most lively with conversation was the one occupied by the prince and myself. A girl was seated across from us, her cheerfulness infectious enough to liven up the whole area around her.

“...And so, Lord Glen was the one who destroyed the snow bunny,” she said. “A shame after Prince Christopher painstakingly made it for Lady Mireille.”

The girl currently speaking was the very guest from the Miseral Dukedom that Lord Glen and the others had mentioned days before. Her name was Sharon Godwin. She had a young, adorable face, rich crimson red hair, and verdant green eyes that shone with delight. When she smiled, there were noticeable dimples in her cheeks.

However, the person who truly drew everyone’s attention was not Lady Sharon or even the handsome prince of Sauslind; it was the female knight from the Miseral Dukedom that stood watch nearby. Her appearance was breathtaking, and her shape was elegant. She kept her defenses mounted without disrupting the mood of those around her, and when she met someone’s gaze, she offered them a graceful smile. She had forest green eyes and jet black hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Left free, it would have descended well past her shoulders. Her body was slender but toned, appearing agile and yet soft enough to remain feminine. She even captivated other women with her looks.

Although they numbered few, there were female knights in Sauslind as well, but most of them weren’t accomplished enough to hold a position as a noble’s bodyguard. For that reason, this foreign beauty was rather rare. That fueled people’s curiosity.

Whether he was aware of the real center of attention or not, Prince Christopher kept his smile on Lady Sharon as he responded, “That happened back when I was five or six years old. Lady Ramond was about the same age. The only ones who saw that and might remember are the maids from the time or the chamberlain.”

“Oh? I heard it directly from Lady Mireille. She remembers her time with you so fondly that she still talks about it even now.”

I felt a prickle in my chest. The person Lady Sharon spoke so innocently of was the Miseral Dukedom’s pride and joy, their “Pearl Princess.” She was the archduke’s famous daughter, both gorgeous and intelligent. She no longer possessed her royal status, though, since she married into one of the dukedom’s noble families. She was close in age to Prince Christopher, Lord Glen, and Lord Alexei, so the four of them had spent a lot of time together as children.

Of course, it only made sense, really. Sure, the two of us did have our own fateful meeting when we were younger, but even before our brief encounter, Prince Christopher had already cultivated a close relationship with someone else. Of course he did. It was natural.

Lady Sharon and Princess Mireille—now called Lady Ramond after her marriage—had grown up together almost like sisters. It was clear from the way Lady Sharon spoke about Lady Ramond that she idolized her.

Suddenly, Lady Sharon’s adorable features darkened, turning pensive. “I wish Lady Mireille could have been invited to the Holy Night’s Banquet too, but...she’s still in mourning.”

The prince’s smile vanished. He turned somber and nodded. “My deep condolences to her for her loss. To have lost her husband after being married not even two years is truly a tragedy. As her relative, however distant, and the citizen of a country allied with the Dukedom, she has my sympathy.” He lowered his blue eyes in silent requiem.

Lady Sharon tried to sound more mature than her years as she said, “There’s no need for you to do that, Your Highness. If you would give some of your attention to her, I am sure Lady Mireille would liven right back up again.”

I’d heard word of what they were referring to; Lady Ramond had recently lost her husband and was now widowed.

As if in prayer, Lady Sharon clapped her hands together, her earnest eyes directed up at His Highness. “Prince Christopher, I realize it’s ill manners to make this request of you, but I beg of you. As her childhood friend, won’t you console Lady Mireille in her grief? If you would write her a letter or send her a memento from your childhood together, I am sure it would ease her heart.” Her pleading eyes turned next to me. “Lady Elianna, she’s aching from the loss of her husband. Please be understanding.”

I blinked back at her. What she was basically saying was she wanted His Highness to comfort another woman—a newly widowed one who had previously been childhood friends with the prince—and didn’t want me to raise a fuss over it. Assuming I understood her right.

Before I could open my mouth to say anything, the prince cut me off with a smile. “Lady Sharon, it’s true the two of us were childhood friends, and she does have my sympathies, but I cannot offer her anything more than Sauslind’s condolences for her loss. Anything more than that and I might cause suffering to a woman drowning in the memories of her lost husband. I’m sure you don’t wish for her reputation to be tarnished either, do you?”

Lady Sharon recoiled. “But,” she tried to protest.

Prince Christopher’s voice remained gentle. He was trying to speak as kindly to her as possible. “You really do idolize her. I can tell how much you want to comfort her in her time of need. Glen is truly blessed to have found such a promising partner like you with such a kind heart.” He smiled once he finished speaking.

The little girl’s cheeks heated up.

The two married noblewomen who had watched the exchange now grinned approvingly over at the prince. “You couldn’t be more right,” Countess Eisenach agreed. “It is an unmistakable godsend for an adorable girl like this to be marrying into our family. Everyone is so jealous. They swear our house must be under the divine protection of the marriage goddess,” she said, chortling. She had a gentle manner and graceful air about her, but she was also very steadfast in her opinions. Even seated in front of the prince, she didn’t falter. Her demeanor was exactly what you might expect from the woman who was married to the general of the imperial guard.

The prince cackled as well and then aimed a meaningful smile her way. “Countess Eisenach, you’re a troublemaker as well. Is that how you stirred up my mother? With talk about the joys of having a daughter and such?”

“Oh goodness,” she exclaimed, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Forgive me for saying this, Your Highness, but I doubt a gentleman like you would understand. A daughter is a blessing from the heavens. They’re like a single blooming flower amidst a squalid household full of men. Men are crass and crude, from their voices to their attitudes. They ramble all that nonsense about ‘male honor’ and status, but then embarrass themselves with their hangovers, acting like the fresh garbage they really are... Oh dear, forgive the tangent. At any rate, daughters are like an adorable light that outshines such scum. They are so sweet. I can hardly handle it when one says, ‘Mother, I have a favor I’d like to ask.’ Ahh, it just makes my heart...oh... I can’t even...!” The countess flailed around in her chair, prompting me to draw back. Beside her, Lady Sharon seemed similarly put off. The other noblewoman next to Lady Sharon shared the sentiment.

Unfazed, Prince Christopher merely snickered at her. “Is that the way you enthused about a daughter’s charms to my mother? I think Eli’s appeal already speaks for itself without you vouching for her. I would prefer if she didn’t participate in all your gushing.” He offered her a casual smile, but it also sounded like he was chiding her. “Please don’t give my mother any strange ideas.”

I stared back at him, unsure if I should blush or tilt my head in confusion. When I spoke with Queen Henrietta, I did so with the understanding that she was a member of the royal family. I didn’t engage her in heartwarming chatter as a daughter-in-law might with her mother-in-law.

When His Highness noticed my gaze, he turned to me and offered a warm smile. There was emotion in his eyes that he showed no one else, and that naturally made my cheeks heat up.

“Oh, goodness me.” Countess Eisenach grinned as she glanced between us, having recovered from her previous fit, and snapped her fan open. “You two certainly are intimate with one another. It’s almost like the legends, the Hero King and his most beloved maiden, Princess Ceysheila.”

“Countess Eisenach, please refrain from such comparisons even in jest. As I recall, though women certainly do enjoy that story as a tale of true love, it’s also a tragedy. I have absolutely no intention of handing Elianna over to anyone or anything, be it an illness or the god of death himself.”

“Your Highness...” His words left me flustered. My face flushed.

He took my hand and smiled over at me, as if gauging my reaction.

I felt even more embarrassed now, and as my gaze swam, I noticed Lady Sharon’s quiet, appraising eyes staring over. She quickly resumed her usual expression, a charming smile back on her lips. “The two of you really are close. It’s almost like the Yule Lovers tale.”

“‘Yule Lovers’?” I canted my head.

She seemed surprised at that. “Oh. I heard you love books so much that I just assumed you had heard of it. It’s a very popular romance story in my country.”

“Oh...” My eyebrows sank together. At tea parties, the ladies often talked about love stories and romantic poetry. I perused the ones my aunt and cousins recommended in order to keep up to date, but I certainly wasn’t interested enough to indulge in keeping up with foreign trends in the genre. “Well, what kind of tale is it?”

Before she could open her mouth to enlighten me, I felt a strong squeeze on my hand. “It’s a tale about a prince and the maiden of flowers who is beloved by the goddess,” Prince Christopher explained. “It’s not very well known in Sauslind, but if they make it into a play, why don’t we go watch it together?”

“Um...”

“I’ll bring you a Yule bouquet when I invite you.”

“Y-Your Highness, um...” I felt a bit awkward. He certainly was acting differently today than he usually did.

He’d been open about our relationship since the day our official wedding date was set, but he’d still maintained a certain level of modesty. At least until today. His advances felt more persistent, which gave me the impression that something was off. I wanted to inquire, but the sound of Countess Eisenach’s laughter cut me short.

“You two sure are flaunting your relationship,” she said.

His Highness gave no indication he minded. “I can’t help myself, she’s my beloved fiancée.”

My cheeks burned. There was nothing I could say.

A chamberlain ambled over and whispered something into the prince’s ear. His Highness gave a composed nod before flashing us with a brilliant, heart-stopping smile. “My apologies. It was pleasant chatting with you lovely ladies, but duty calls, I’m afraid. As much as it pains me to say this, I’ll have to excuse myself here. Please do forgive me.”

Countess Eisenach spoke up on behalf of all of us. “Why, not at all. We should be the ones thanking you for taking time out of your busy schedule and joining us, Prince Christopher.”

He smiled back at her. When he lifted himself from his chair, he turned to me, knelt, and lifted my hand toward him. I returned his gaze only to find a slightly ponderous look in those blue eyes.

“...I’ll see you again later, Eli.” He kissed the tips of my fingers, grinned softly at me, and took off. Everyone’s eyes lingered on his back as he slipped out of the greenhouse.

After that, we all engaged in idle chatter together, and the rest of our tea party proceeded smoothly.

~.~.~.~

Everything seemed to be going well after that, at least until the evening party the very next day.

The Holy Night’s Banquet was just a week away. Once it ended, all of the offices in the palace went on break until after the new year. Many nobles had returned to their territories after the Hunting Festival, putting high society events in the capital on hold for the time being. For that reason, many diplomats, ambassadors, and others who held official positions in the capital gathered at these evening parties to indulge themselves.

The queen was hosting tonight’s party in her royal villa, detached from the main palace. It was almost like a Holy Night’s Eve festival, attended by women and men of all ages—a full cast of gorgeous faces basking in the atmosphere.

Yesterday, the prince told me he would “see me again later,” but he was so busy with his administrative work and I was so preoccupied by my own official duties that we seemed to always miss each other, never quite finding the time to spend together. In fact, he didn’t make it in time to escort me for this evening party, and since His Majesty was similarly engaged, both Queen Henrietta and I entered the venue alone. She graciously allowed me to stay next to her as the guest of honor, though.

I greeted those who came to pay their respects, engaging them in conversation even as I wore an uncomfortable smile on my face. When a pair of women approached us, I felt a sudden surge of apprehension.

“A most lovely evening, Queen Henrietta, Lady Elianna.”

Queen Henrietta had her fan closed on her lap. Her fingertips quietly tapped against it. I had realized, in the four years I’d spent with her, that this was her way of signaling to me to be cautious around these people.

Normally, I agreed with her assessment about the need for discretion, but today I found myself tilting my head quizzically for a very different reason.

“Good evening, Viscountess Dauner. I see your daughter is with you as well. Good evening, Lady Matilda.” Queen Henrietta handled them with her normal composure. The former was a plump woman in her mid-forties, while the latter was nearly her exact opposite, slender and in her early twenties.

Following the queen’s polite reception, I tried to bow my head in a formal, ladylike greeting, but the viscountess cut me off with a peal of laughter. “Your Majesty, I tailored this dress I’m wearing using my daughter’s own design. She’s also designed another, which she’s wearing right now. I had no idea she had such a hidden talent. When spring comes, I am sure the dress she’s designed will be a hit. What do you think? Might I ask for your honest assessment?” Her voice boomed so loudly it drew the attention of those around us. Lady Matilda proudly puffed out her chest alongside her mother.

I blinked furiously, staring at their attire. The older woman was in a lustrous purple dress decorated lavishly with lace and jewels. It hugged her body, trying to compliment the graceful curves of a woman’s figure, yet it looked as if it might tear at the seams at any moment. It had a bold neckline with an eye-catching lace panel set beneath it, but...regrettably, the lace stood out for all the wrong reasons. It looked tacky and poorly crafted. Plus, the skin it revealed was...well, forgive me for saying, but not very classy.

Unfortunately, Lady Matilda’s outfit didn’t fare much better. The pink dress she had wrapped around her lithe body didn’t match her rectangular-shaped face very well. Worse still, the flower embroidery she’d used to highlight her dress looked garish, almost like a beautiful flower being strangled by a venomous snake. That only drew my interest more, and as I squinted and studied the flowers, I realized she seemed to be using the Yule flower as her motif. There were five petals with jagged edges that bent back and a long, curled pistil in the center. It was considered a difficult flower to use as a motif, and given Matilda’s crude rendition of it, you could clearly tell it was rushed work.

While I struggled to decide how best to respond to their request for feedback, Queen Henrietta gave a slow nod. “A bit eccentric, I must say, but the idea may have some promise.”

Everyone around us had their brows drawn together, and when they heard the queen say that, surprise flashed on their faces. While they stared at their monarch, Viscountess Dauner’s lips peeled back in a triumphant smirk. She stuck her nose up in the air proudly as she said, “Matilda knows a great deal about the history of the Norn nation to our east. That’s how she got the idea of using the Yule flower in her design. Even I was shocked by just how extensive her knowledge is. She told me about the origins of the flower, how it’s beloved by the goddess, and how she used that theme as a basis in her design. My house has already started negotiations with major companies in order to procure these flowers. I have no doubt these designs will help us foster good relations with Norn as well.”

That was enough to draw the attention of politically shrewd ambassadors and noblemen, creating a stir as people exchanged looks among themselves. Viscountess Dauner’s face gleamed even brighter, as if she felt empowered by their attention. My inner confusion crumbled as panic seeped in to take its place, though I was careful not to let it show on my face.

The queen’s voice remained as steady and dependable as ever. “Oh, is Lady Matilda interested in diplomacy, then? Or is the reason she still remains single at her age because she has been hoping to strike it big as a designer?”

“Your Majesty, if you might allow me to speak,” Lady Matilda started in a squeaky voice. Her words were humble and modest, but her eyes and voice displayed clear confidence. “Though I may be inadequate, being a woman, I pray to always serve the greater good for my country. The only way for me to do so, frankly, is to marry, so that I may be faithful and devoted to my husband and carry on his family’s lineage. A woman’s greatest honor is fulfilling the duty she was born to carry out.”

Those words, spoken with such egotism, were like a jab to the heart after the conversation I shared with the queen about her illness and the possibility of a harem.

Viscountess Dauner’s sonorous laughter seemed to echo her daughter’s sentiments. “My daughter has the proper mindset for a lady. She wouldn’t embarrass me no matter what noble house I might send her to. I am proud of her. It seems a mother’s guidance, or lack thereof, has an enormous impact on a lady’s character. If a lady is too intelligent, while that might garner interest at first for being rare, she will only cause grief to the man she marries, thereby earning his resentment. As I’m sure you must know, a lady must not be too assertive; she exists to complement her husband.” Her words sounded like the hollow echo of what the supposed “ideal virtuous noblewoman” should be, and it prompted a number of the more conservative nobles to nod in agreement.

Since the queen remained magnanimous in her willingness to let the viscountess speak her mind, the woman went on. “My queen, I realize I am being presumptuous, but if it would please you, we would happily present you a dress designed by my daughter. You can see her talent already yourself. I am confident we could prepare something that would live up to your expectations, Your Majesty.”

Something about her bold tone of voice struck me—it was radiant, dazzling. Leaving her calculations and motivations aside, I could feel the pride she had for her daughter oozing out of every word.

Lady Matilda humbly lowered her gaze to the floor, but you could clearly tell she was radiating confidence.

Queen Henrietta elegantly spread her fan open, pressing it over her mouth. She gave a slow nod. “I will consider the offer.”

The venue erupted in an even louder clamor this time as the people who were gathered acted genuinely stunned. Anyone who was close to the queen obtained great influence. In other words, the viscountess had gained recognition as someone who might be allowed the privilege to serve the royal family. Many shot questioning looks at the queen. I shared their sentiments; I couldn’t read what she was thinking either.

Lady Matilda glanced my way, eyes full of scorn as she regarded me.

The two soon curtsied and excused themselves, taking to a corner of the party where their lively socializing commenced. No doubt the topic of their conversations included that which intrigued women the most—clothing. A crowd of others swarmed around them, looking for the opportunity to get close to Lady Matilda now that she had shown some promise in diplomacy.

In my periphery, I could see Queen Henrietta sighing behind the shadow of her folding fan. The wave of people coming to pay their respects had just tapered off when she remarked, “The insects have slunk out of their hiding hole.”

My heart drummed in my chest—a feeling I’d been experiencing a lot lately.

Agnes stood close to the queen, rigid as a statue without betraying a single hint of emotion. “Shall I take care of the matter?”

“Now there’s an idea...” Her Majesty murmured, stroking her fingers along the frame of her fan thoughtfully. “But let’s just keep an eye out for now.”

As I loitered beside her, the queen’s gaze turned to me. She studied me before letting out an imperceptible sigh. “...Elianna, your hair is coming loose. Go have it fixed.”

“Your Majesty,” I started to say, but my voice trailed off when I couldn’t come up with the words. There were eyes all around us, so I just swallowed my explanations back down. At a maid’s prompting, I curtsied and left, still carrying confusion and unease close in my heart.

~.~.~.~

I sat alone in a powder room located a short distance from the main room and let a heavy sigh spill out. One of the queen’s maids had guided me here. Before she bowed and took her leave, she told me, “Please call for me when you’re ready to return.”

I understood that the queen was giving me this time to think alone. She couldn’t have me sitting beside her as the guest of honor with such a miserable look on my face.

A trickle of gay music filtered into the room as I stared at my pitiful reflection in the mirror. “The insects have slunk out of their hiding hole,” the queen had said. Perhaps that was her way of answering the suspicions I harbored toward Viscountess Dauner and her daughter. The design on their dresses had been no coincidence. I wasn’t imagining things. They had stolen the very ideas I casually shared just a few days earlier. This was clear proof that someone close to me was leaking my information.

It could be anyone: a royal merchant, a maid, an attendant, a court lady, or one of the guards. The moment I let doubt creep in, there was no end to whom I might suspect. Just thinking about it made me utterly miserable. I was staying in the capital until the end of the Holy Night’s Banquet, but now I had to be wary of the very people who were supposed to be taking care of me here. Perhaps this was a trial, since I would someday be the one overseeing the inner palace. Or maybe this was something that just naturally occurred because of my own incompetence?

My thoughts turned gloomy and depressing, and I felt utterly hopeless. What really weighed on me was the way the queen looked at me and sighed. I couldn’t help but wonder if she thought me pathetic and unfit for Prince Christopher.

I tightened my fingers around my knees. I could hear women’s voices approaching, accompanied by the faint murmur of music from the party. Sensing a group of them, I decided to lift myself out of my chair.

My thoughts and emotions were still in disarray. I didn’t want anyone to see me looking so miserable. I planned to slip into the adjoining room, but then I spotted the special passageway the servants had been using. Deciding it was too late to stop now, I hiked up the unwieldy train of my dress and shuffled inside.

I passed through a room that was more like a hallway, avoiding people as I went and feeling like a rat scuttling through the dark in the process. I sailed forward. There was nothing—neither a person nor an obstacle—that could stop me. I flew through the halls as if I were being pursued by something, stopping only when I had reached the main palace.

The frigid winter air felt like a cold blade stabbing at my hot throat. My breath came out in visible puffs, and the chill drew me back to my senses. I had to go back.

Faintly, I could hear voices. “...right, Prince Christopher?”

My heart slammed against my rib cage, thundering louder now than it ever had before. I instinctively turned in the direction of those voices. I found myself peeking out of a second floor corridor, peering down at the floor below. Light spilled through the dark, reflecting off a head of brilliant gold hair. Not far from the prince was one of the imperial guards that accompanied him. The two were just about to slip into a hallway when a voice had stopped them—or at least, that was how it appeared. He was conversing with the female knight from the Miseral Dukedom. I recalled she’d said her name was Lady Elen.

I unconsciously leaned forward to catch snippets of their conversation, which was largely drowned out by the surrounding hubbub.

“...would like to deliver her answer...” Lady Elen’s lustrous voice cut through the darkness, finding its way up to me.

There was a small burst of scornful laughter, carrying a chill with it that seemed to seep right into my bones. “Me? Do you know how uncertain I felt as I waited for this, oh Lady Knight of Miseral?” The prince’s voice was more impressive than hers, sugary sweet despite the menacing undertone.

Lady Elen gave a shrug, brushing off his icy reception. “If you’re angry with me, then it’s misdirected. I’m merely an envoy.” She slipped a missive out of her pocket and held it out to him. “From Lady Mireille.”

I heard the sound of someone sucking in a breath and didn’t realize at first that it was me doing it.

His Highness evaluated the proffered letter quietly, almost as if it were completely irrelevant to him. The frazzled clamor of government officials moving about leaked out from a nearby office.

Unable to keep her mirth to herself, Lady Elen let a small chuckle slip. The next words they exchanged were in a whisper, and I couldn’t catch them over the rest of the commotion. The only thing I was narrowly able to pick up was Lady Elen’s voice as she said, “Lady Mireille was of the same mind, Prince Christopher.”

After a beat of silence, I watched as the prince accepted the missive. When I swallowed, it felt like the cold was stabbing down my throat, trickling down into my chest and coalescing into a lump of hard ice. I was forced to watch as the whole scene unfolded, unable to breathe a word.