Chapter 1: The Young Lady Moves

01: The Young Lady Is Sent to Prison

Up until this moment, guests of the royal family had been enjoying a lively evening party. However, every attendee soon fell silent as the prince abruptly declared he was breaking off his engagement.

In the middle of the luxurious banquet hall, a dignified young man with radiant golden locks cascading down his shoulders stood with his arms crossed. He was the king’s eldest son, Prince Elliott. Behind him stood a darling young lady, her red hair styled in pigtails. She wrapped her arms around the prince, and they both fixed their eyes on a young lady as the prince’s associates dragged her in front of them.

She was a demure girl, and she maintained her composure even in this situation, quietly allowing the prince’s associates to pull her forward. Her name was Rachel, and she was the eldest daughter of Duke Ferguson, and now the prince’s ex-fiancée.

Elliott shifted to stand in front of the young lady with the red hair, as if to protect her. She quivered behind him. He glared at Rachel as his associates restrained her.

“Rachel, if you have even a shred of decency, then apologize to Margaret!” Elliott said in a tone both critical and sharp.

“The game is up, you witch!” cried Sykes Abigail, the knight commander’s son, as he twisted Rachel’s arms. “We know you’re the one who provoked the other ladies of the court!”

Even Rachel’s brother, George Ferguson, joined in and denounced her. “Please, sister. Just be honest and confess your crimes. How much longer will you continue to drag the Ferguson name through the mud?”

Unfazed by their abuse, Rachel looked back at the prince, her expression cold. “I’ve done no such thing. There is no reason I should apologize to your girlfriend.”

Rachel was a beautiful woman with dark brown hair she kept tied up and clear, pale skin. Her almond-shaped eyes, a deep cobalt blue, shone with intelligence. Her lips were a light pink. The dress she wore was simple, and the color was subdued, a demonstration of class rather than gaudiness. Her whole appearance gave off an air of maturity, and though she was the same age as Elliott, her reserved manner and plain appearance made her seem years older than him.

Rachel repeated her denial in a quiet tone that fit her image perfectly. Compared to the prince, who’d spoken in anger, her attitude lent her words a certain gravitas.

The prince found that infuriating. In fact, one of the things that irritated Elliott the most was that she was acting no different than usual.

Why is she so defiant?! he thought.

Rachel was reserved, and she rarely, if ever, asserted herself. She was a model lady, there to support the men, which was probably why she’d been chosen as the prince’s fiancée. But despite her unassertive demeanor, she would still chide Elliott for his lack of composure.

Because of that, Elliott’s heart had drifted away from her. Or rather, he’d never managed to grow fond of her due to her attitude toward him. She always treated him like a child who needed reprimanding. Conversely, Elliott’s response was evidence that he still had a lot of maturing to do.

Elliott had always felt that Rachel was in his way, and now she had allegedly harmed the young lady he loved most of all. He had a strong desire to punish his ex-fiancée for refusing to apologize.

“Enough!” Elliott yelled. “Rachel, it seems I was wrong to give you a chance to reflect on your actions.”

The prince gestured with his chin, and Sykes began dragging Rachel off to the dungeon.

“Life is long, Rachel. Do enjoy your time in prison.”

He saw Rachel’s lips twist at his mocking tone, her first real reaction. However, it wasn’t the look of disgrace he had hoped for, but an ironic smile.

“Oh, I will, Your Highness. This is a rare opportunity, so I intend to enjoy it at my leisure.”

This was an unusual show of emotion—a look of scorn—from the duke’s daughter who was known for her placidity. But before the prince could dwell on what it meant, Sykes dragged Rachel from the banquet hall.

Rachel stared coldly at her fiancé as he arrogantly spouted his faulty logic.

This guy is utterly hopeless.

It was said that men were slower to develop mentally in childhood, but even taking that into account, Elliott was still far too dull. He was nearly an adult, and he was acting like this?

Rachel could do nothing but sigh. The idea that she would go out of her way to harass an inconsequential girl was absurd. It galled her that he thought she had that much time on her hands. Her supposed crime was risible, and the way he’d condemned her with that serious look made her want to laugh out loud. Did he have even the slightest conception of how difficult the education was for someone who was going to marry into the royal family? Did these people even have brains at all?

In all honesty, Rachel had no particular desire to marry Prince Elliott, nor did she especially want to become queen. She was merely doing her duty as a daughter of a ducal family. Why did she have to fight over this nitwit with a woman she barely knew, a woman who’d concocted this infantile scheme? Rachel had only played the role of fiancée out of a sense of familial obligation, and she was already sick and tired of this ridiculous farce. In fact, she was ready to throw everything away out of sheer apathy.

A snide voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“Life is long, Rachel. Do enjoy your time in prison.”

When that talentless prince uttered those uninspiring words with his inflated sense of self-importance, Rachel could no longer hold her poker face. She cracked a smile.

“Oh, I will, Your Highness. This is a rare opportunity, so I intend to enjoy it at my leisure.”

Oh, forget my noble duties. Who cares what happens to this buffoon?

The prince was reveling in what he thought was a sudden announcement, but Rachel had already heard about his plan from multiple sources. She hadn’t expected it to play out exactly as her informants had said, though. Still, he had torn up their engagement, so it looked like her preparations wouldn’t go to waste.

Elliott was so predictable that Rachel couldn’t stop the little smile that slipped onto her lips. When she caught herself nearly grinning, she relaxed her face and kept it as expressionless as possible as Sykes dragged her away.

The prince had kindly given the order. Now she was going to forget all about her lessons and enjoy herself.

Rachel was actually a little excited for this new lifestyle, shut away in the disused dungeons beneath the palace. Without the rigorous requirements of a future queen. Without a schedule planned down to the minute. Without a head maid to complain when she took a nap, or a tutor to strike her with a pointer when she slacked off to read books.

She would have all the time in the world. Teatime would be any time she pleased. If she wanted to, she could sleep the day away without anyone getting upset. It would be a slow prison life where she could amuse herself to her heart’s content.

Fighting the urge to start skipping, Rachel trudged out of the hall with heavy feet that belied her actual feelings.

02: The Young Lady Shuts Herself in the Prison

Hearing the sound of footsteps on the stone stairs, the prison guard on patrol in the dungeon looked up. In the flickering light of a lantern, he could see a well-built young man pulling along a girl. Her clothes were of the highest, yet she was bound with ropes.

Just as the guard was thinking that they made an odd couple, the young man yelled at him.

“Are you the prison guard?” Sykes arrogantly asked.

“Yes, sir. I am.”

The guard had no idea what was going on as he watched Sykes, having reached the basement, untie the girl and shove her from behind.

“Throw this wretch in a cell. Prince Elliott commands it. We haven’t decided when we’ll release her yet. Well, I guess that’ll all depend on how well she reflects on her actions.”

“Ah, is that right?” the guard said rather unenthusiastically.

Sykes scowled. “What?”

“You see, um, about the prison...”

Sykes followed the guard’s line of sight and realized that the jail...had been converted into a storage closet.

“What is this?” he exclaimed, caught off guard. Various-sized wooden boxes were piled inside the prison. Near the back, they rose almost all the way to the ceiling. They took up more than half the cell, although it wasn’t clear what was inside them.

“Well, some bureaucrats happened to come by here just this afternoon, and they said they needed to temporarily store some things they no longer need in there,” the guard explained. He scratched his head awkwardly as Sykes stared in blank amazement. “We rarely ever use the palace dungeon, you know? I would never have expected a guest to be staying so soon.”

“Why do they have to be using it as a glorified closet now?” Sykes lamented.

“Well, it’s my first time seeing this happen too. But we so rarely use the cells that there wasn’t any reason to refuse.”

Sykes clicked his tongue. So the bureaucrats had brought in some documents or something that needed to be stored somewhere, had they? The timing was poor, but he could see that there was still sufficient space between the cell door and the toilet. Fine. That would be enough for Rachel to lie down.

“It is what it is. Just throw this witch in there. And I don’t want any lip from you about it being too crowded. Be grateful you’re not sharing a room with a criminal.”

“I understand,” Rachel said meekly.

Sykes motioned to the prison guard with his chin. The guard opened the cell door, which was at one end of the iron bars, with his key.

Having figured out the situation, the guard’s smile turned scummy. “A well-to-do lady like yourself may find this place a little creepy, but, well, they say a man’s home is his castle, right? Give it a week and I’m sure you’ll settle right in. Try to think of it as a unique inn and enjoy yourself. Not that I know how many years you’ll be here.”

Rachel listened to the guard’s intimidating spiel, which he’d likely plucked right out of the manual, and silently walked through the door. The guard closed the door behind her and locked it. Then he rattled the door to ensure that it was completely secure, as was tradition.

The guard smirked at her as she quietly sat down inside the cell. “If you’re going to cry to somebody important for help, you’d best do it early, for your own good, you know? This underground prison is rarely used these days. It’s not easy to find either, and I tend to forget who’s down here.”

Sykes laughed. “Ha ha ha, the man has a point. His Highness wants to forget about you and have a good time with Margaret. I’d suggest you bow your head to him before he forgets we threw you in here.”

Sykes and the guard turned to leave, laughing scornfully at the dim-witted fool of a girl. They left behind the duke’s daughter, crushed by what had happened to her...or so they thought.

Just as Sykes and the prison guard were about to ascend the stairs...

Rattle, rattle. Ka-chunk!

“Ka...chunk?” Sykes muttered, mimicking what he’d heard. Both he and the guard turned toward the strange noises.

Rachel had been sitting there dejectedly, but now she was wrapping a large chain around the door and metal bars. Then she put a padlock on it.

This was her moment, the moment she could strike back and harass them.

“Huh?” the guard blurted.

“Wh-What are you doing?!” Sykes stammered. He ran up to the bars, but Rachel had already finished locking up. “Hey, what is this?!” Using his well-toned muscles, he shook the door, but it was tightly chained and wouldn’t budge an inch.

On the other side, Rachel watched him with a cool expression. “‘What,’ you ask? I have ensured the door is locked for my own safety.”

“This is a prison, you know?!” Sykes shouted. “The prisoners aren’t the ones who lock it up!”

Rachel remained blasé as she explained, “I am still an unwed woman. I couldn’t bear it if anything untoward were to happen to me. After all, I’ve heard the guards get their jollies by cavorting with the prisoners when their superiors aren’t looking.”

“Still, this is unprecedented! Where did you even get that chain and lock?!”

“That is my business, not yours,” Rachel said, refusing to dignify his question with an answer.

Sykes and the guard were speechless. Although they’d locked her in, it was as if she had shut herself up in there.

“Wh-What should we do?” the prison guard asked.

Sykes shook his head. “Don’t ask me...”

“Well, what are you going to do?” Rachel interjected.

“No, don’t you say that!” Sykes snapped.

“No, no. Given that this directly affects me, I have every right to speak, don’t I?” Rachel countered, her tone serious.

“Wh-When you put it that way, I suppose you have a point...”

“Well, what’s it going to be? Come on, hurry up. How about an opinion?!”

Sykes, who wasn’t used to thinking about anything particularly difficult, broke under Rachel’s pressure and started to panic.

“Didn’t I ask you what it’s going to be?!” Rachel continued. “Come on, out with it! Now, now, now, now, now!”

“Stop! Don’t rush me, okay?! Uh, what do I even do about this?” As he had more brawn than brains, Sykes couldn’t keep up. He could only think of one thing to do. “F-First, I’ll report this to the prince.”

The son of the commander of the knights practically fell over himself on his way out of the dungeon, racing back to the party to call the prince.

03: The Young Lady Renovates the Prison

In the gaudy banquet hall, Elliott and his hangers-on were enjoying yet another loud toast as they ignored all the people around them speaking in hushed voices.

“Ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, this is delightful!” Elliott exclaimed.

Margaret congratulated him. “You’ve finally done it, Your Highness!”

“Yes, finally, I’ve brought that horrible woman to account for her crimes! Margaret, I thank you for your help.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t do anything.”

The people watching all hooted. The mood had turned romantic, and Elliott and Margaret no longer cared who saw them. Their faces drew closer together, and then...

“Your Highness!!!”

A well-built young man raced into the hall.

“Sykes, you have the worst timing,” Elliott scoffed, glaring at the commander of the knights’ son.

Sykes grabbed Elliott’s arm. “We have an emergency! Please, come at once!”

“Hey, what is this about?”

Panicking, Sykes began to drag Elliott away. He pulled the prince through the crowd, looking a bit like a jilted ex abducting the bride in the middle of her wedding.

Before he could chastise Sykes for this indignity, Elliott needed to calm him down or he was going to get hurt. He slapped the hand Sykes was using to grip his arm and yelled, “Hey, stop pulling! Your grip is too tight, and it hurts!”

“Oh, sorry!” Sykes hurriedly let go.

Elliott thought he could finally ask what was the matter, but Sykes wasn’t giving up.

“Now, please, come this way!” he cried.

“Huh?! Hey, stop it!”

Sykes scooped Elliott up in his arms, carrying him like a princess, and ran off at a speed that would put a horse to shame.

The people left behind began whispering immediately.

“Sykes...j-just took Prince Elliott? Wh-What does that mean?” Margaret asked, cocking her head.

“Oh, goodness! Does this mean his true love is Lord Abigail?!”

“No, from the way things were just now... Wait, is our haughty prince the bottom?!”

“We’ll have to let everyone who couldn’t make it here today know!”

The young ladies watching from a distance continued to spread important information that could affect Elliott’s position.

By the time Sykes found Elliott and pulled him off to the dungeon—using methods he never should’ve performed in public—the situation had progressed, which is to say it had gotten even worse.

“For goodness sake, what has Rachel done this—? Wha?!”

Elliott, who had been grumbling the whole way, was dumbstruck. Sykes had thought he was prepared, but even he was speechless at what he saw now. It was far beyond anything he’d imagined. The prison had completely transformed in a mere thirty minutes.

The dungeon was a large, square room divided in two by iron bars. In front of the bars was a room for the prison guards to stand by and monitor, and at one end of the wall, there was a staircase made out of the same stone as the rest of the room. The only furniture was a simple table and chair; there was no need for more because interrogations were carried out at the royal guard’s office. Likewise, palace servants brought the inmates’ meals from the kitchens, so there was no cooking equipment either.

Behind the bars was the back room, which was what everyone called the “dungeon.” This was where the prisoners were kept. The interior consisted of stone walls, a stone floor, and a stone ceiling, the same as the front room. There was a toilet and shower in the corner, as well as a sink. The iron bars were the only thing separating the back room from the front room, so essentially it was one big room.

Being a dungeon, it was largely underground. Only a number of long, thin windows high up on the wall let in light and fresh air. They were designed to look like vents that went under the floor when viewed from outside, and they were, of course, barred. They were the only source of light in the room, so without a lamp or candle, the dungeon was gloomy even in the middle of the day.

Quality of life in this dreary place depended on the position of the person detained, and on the magnanimity of whoever put them in here. If the prisoner needed special consideration, or if the person who’d jailed them was feeling merciful, they could lead a reasonably civilized life here. They might receive furniture and carpets, tables and chairs, and a divider to go around the toilet and shower so that no one could see them.

If they were meant to suffer, or if the person in charge was cruel by nature, the prisoner would receive none of those things. They would huddle on the bare stone, shivering in the cold and eating food off trays left on the floor. Every time they defecated or bathed, they would be in full sight of the guard.

These conditions would make most people shudder, even more so if they were to be imprisoned here. Yet most of this was nothing more than urban legend. These days, it was almost unthinkable to use the dungeon at all. The treatment of prisoners had become much more humane, and those who were due some consideration were instead locked in inescapable guest rooms where they were kept under close surveillance. As for petty criminals, there was no need to imprison them in the royal palace in the first place. There was a perfectly good prison on the outskirts of the city. They could go there along with the commoners.

This dungeon had been built a long, long time ago, when treason and conspiracies were a fact of life, in order to torment those of influence who’d fallen from power. Now, after such a long time of peace, only nobles or courtiers would be imprisoned here, and only the ones who were to be treated worse than ordinary prisoners, making the existence of this place rather contradictory.

Rachel Ferguson was just the sort of person who fit those conditions. She was the daughter of a duke, but having incurred the prince’s wrath, she was expected to suffer horribly. There just weren’t people like that these days. She was a rare specimen.

As for whether Prince Elliott had thought that deeply about it...he did not. He’d just wanted to stick Rachel in an awful place and bully her for picking on his darling Margaret. It never occurred to him what the living situation in here might be like. The prince had only thought that if he imprisoned Rachel in a way that was humiliating for any noble, she would kowtow before Margaret and beg for forgiveness. And he wouldn’t be unwilling to grant it. That was as far as his thoughts had gone.

In fact, while he was flirting with Margaret after expelling Rachel from polite society, Elliott had forgotten all about such “trivial details” until Sykes dragged him here. That was why he had no idea why his friend had insisted that he come look at that terrible woman.

But when Prince Elliott arrived at the prison...he couldn’t comprehend the scene unfolding in front of him.

Inside the dungeon, the duke’s daughter was relaxing on the floor. She should have been sitting on stone tile, but instead she sat on a throw rug with geometrical designs on it. The formerly exposed toilet and shower area now had a flowery curtain hanging around it. On top of the throw rug was a comfy, cushioned sofa that could have dragged even a sage down into a life of sloth. She moved to it and lay there reading a book. Of course, next to her was a light bright enough to read by.

The inmate who had just arrived today had already changed out of her evening dress and into something more simple and casual. She had been thrown in there with only what she was wearing at the time, so how had she been able to change? Where did she get the furniture?

It was impossible. Everything about this scene was impossible. On the other side of those bars was the dungeon. It had to be. Yet the bare stone walls now held a comfortable living space.

As all who were present stared speechless at this incomprehensible scene, the young lady appeared to notice something and sat up.

“Hm?”

Rachel resolutely ignored everyone on the other side of the bars as she lifted the kettle from atop her alcohol lamp and poured the boiling water into a teapot. The scent of black tea seemed out of place wafting through a dreary jail cell.

“Mmm!” Rachel smiled in satisfaction as she took a whiff.

Elliott’s jaw dropped even further at the absurdity of a tea set inside the prison. Sykes and the prison guard looked at each other, but not a word was spoken.

At least five seconds passed before the prince snapped back to his senses and grabbed the iron bars.

“You! Where did you get that?!”

“I provided it for myself. It puts no strain on the treasury,” Rachel replied curtly.

“That’s not the problem!”

“These are my personal effects. You have no right to complain about them.”

“I said that’s not the problem!” the prince repeated, even louder this time. He ground his teeth, angry that they were just talking at each other. “Where did you get all of that stuff in there?!”

Rachel looked around, as if there were something missing, then opened one of the wooden boxes and took out some tea biscuits. It was one of the wooden boxes that were supposedly no longer needed. Yes, they were the very same boxes that had been there before Rachel was thrown in.

“That’s how she did it?!” Sykes shouted.

“What?!” Elliott barked.

The prison guard explained what had happened to the confused prince.

Now that Elliott knew how the trick had worked, he started to get dizzy as he watched his ex-fiancée happily nibble on cookies and sip black tea.

“Y-You’re telling me she saw this coming and brought her family’s siege supplies in here?” the prince muttered to himself, shocked.

“My people brought them here for me, to be precise,” Rachel replied, unconcerned. “Well, as you can see, I was prepared for this eventuality.”

Ignoring the speechless prince, Rachel opened her book to the place she had bookmarked and resumed reading.

Everyone recognized Rachel Ferguson’s beauty, yet she had a strange lack of presence, to the point where people would forget she was attending a reception alongside the prince. Her delicate features showed little emotion, and she basically never spoke or expressed an opinion. Even when she was asked to venture one, she would agree with whatever the prince had said. The way she acted like the prince’s shadow made her a convenient target, and her rivals for Elliott’s affections often attacked her for lacking flair and said she didn’t deserve him.

She was an unobtrusive accessory to the prince’s radiant beauty—an attractive fiancée who stayed out of the way. With no sense of self, her most endearing quality was how she reservedly supported the prince. It was why he’d found her dull.

Elliott had assumed that because she was that kind of woman, she wouldn’t dare push back against his condemnation, which was why he’d done it in such a public venue.

But now, Elliott was perplexed. Who was this woman, doing as she pleased in this ridiculous place?

04: The Duke Realizes the Situation

Duke Ferguson received word that the prince had terminated his engagement to Rachel at a party attended by many of the young members of the court. The situation was unbelievable, and as the head of a ducal house, he was preparing to make an emergency visit to the palace. He had sent his retainers out to gather information to help him grasp the situation.

As the duke panicked, his men came back one after another with bad news.

“Are you certain that the prince broke off his engagement with Rachel at tonight’s party?” the duke asked.

“Yes, sir. We were able to confirm that with multiple sources. She was restrained in the middle of the hall as he announced the annulment.”

The duke clutched his head. “That fool of a prince! I’m sure he wanted to make a spectacle of it, but doesn’t he realize that wasn’t the place for it?! This isn’t a matter of who was in the wrong; it’s common sense.”

The duke had already concluded that the prince was ruined. If you viewed the situation logically, it was plain to see that the way he theatrically broke off their betrothal, completely disregarding proper manners and customs, would become a problem once the king stepped in to resolve things.

Naturally, the duke was upset that his daughter’s engagement had been broken without a word to him about it first, but in all honesty, he had a bigger problem now.

He slammed his hands down on his desk. “That vacuous moron. He’s gone and awakened the devil child!”

The duke’s eldest daughter, Rachel, had been pretty from a young age, and her reserved behavior and ephemeral appearance had led other houses to assume that she was an introverted and quiet beauty. Not knowing any better, the duke and duchess had been incredibly proud of her. They’d believed wholeheartedly that their daughter was wonderful.

They couldn’t have been more wrong.

As their daughter grew, and they gradually came to see who she was, the duke and duchess’s smiles became more strained. She acted worse than the average bully.

When a group of bullies chased her up a tree, she threw a beehive at them. Then, when an older boy came to back them up, she clobbered him with a rolling pin she’d been hiding. Once that was done, she pushed the ringleader into a pond for revenge.

Hearing the ruckus, the duke rushed to investigate, and he spotted her throwing rocks at the boy as he tried to get to shore. When he stopped her, she looked at him and, with a completely serious expression, said, “Don’t worry. If I keep throwing rocks at him, he won’t float to the surface for a while.”

It was at this moment that the duke first thought there was a high probability that his beloved daughter was a psychopath.

In order to dissuade her, the duke pointed out the difficulty of piling rocks on top of an object underwater, and he explained how the resistance of the water as they sank and the irregular shape of the rocks would make it hard to determine their course. It was evident from this exchange that the duke was panicking a bit.

His daughter, eyes sparkling, exclaimed, “That’s amazing, father!” But, in all honesty, this was the first time that her praise went in one ear and out the other.

Once her parents realized how warped Rachel was, they put a touching amount of effort into making sure she developed a degree of sociability commensurate with her good looks by the time she was grown. The duke felt that after he’d explained that manners and morals were like the rules of a game and that order existed so everyone had a fair chance to play, she grew into their ideal daughter.

But the duke and duchess never forgot. If Rachel were to ever stop thinking that she had to follow the rules, they had no idea what their daughter might do. That was why they had focused so heavily on giving her the moral education necessary for a child of the nobility.

Despite their every contingency, this termination of her engagement...they never saw it coming.

The duke knew better than anyone what had just happened. Prince Elliott, the damned fool, had just gone and upended the chessboard.

As the duke barked orders, driven by the need to get ahead of this as soon as possible, a servant rushed into the room, out of breath.

“We’ve received more details!”

“Has there been any movement?!” the duke asked.

The retainer, blue in the face, began his report. The duke, stressed to the max, listened intently.

“I’ll explain in detail. The young lady accepted His Highness’s announcement without any change in expression, and she remained quiet as she was restrained and marched off to the dungeon.”

The duke froze for a moment before slumping into his chair like he’d collapsed. The butler rushed to his side.

The duke stared absently into space for a while, then mumbled, “The prince... He’s done for.”

The butler, who was well acquainted with Rachel’s upbringing, nodded gravely and said, “Yes, sir.”

If Rachel had already decided to act, it was out of the duke’s hands. He had no choice but to let her do as she pleased and wait until she’d blown off some steam.

No longer in a rush, the duke sat in front of his desk and slowly put tobacco in his pipe.

I think I’ll have a smoke, he told himself. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Because there’s nothing else I can do.

The duke was filled with a great many emotions as he took a puff and exhaled. Then, he remembered something.

“Still, George must have been at the party. What is he doing now?”

George would have been close to the prince as one of his hangers-on. If he’d acted to mediate the issue or reported to the duke before things developed to this point, this uproar could have been dealt with before it got out of hand.

As the duke let out an exhausted sigh, the servant who’d brought the reports hesitantly delivered a follow-up about George.

“Well, you see... It seems the young master is as infatuated with the baroness’s daughter, who was at the center of this drama, as His Highness and the others. He was an active participant in their condemnation of her.”

The duke and the butler looked at each other.

“George...is a dead man.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How, after sixteen years of living with his sister, could that imbecile not understand something so simple?”

George had to have seen that Rachel was running wild, so what was he thinking?

If Rachel’s anger toward her brother were to explode, the duke had no intention of defending his son and heir. That could get him caught in the crossfire. The duke valued his own hide far more than that of the idiot son who had ruined everything.

As the duke looked up at the ceiling and took a puff from his pipe, there was a ruckus in the hall, and his wife raced into the room.

“Oh, Dan!”

“Iseria!”

The duke hurried to his feet as his stumbling wife leapt into his arms.

“It’s Rachel, she...she’s...”

“I know. I was just listening to the reports. Try to be strong!”

The duchess had completely lost her head, and she continued shouting with tears in her eyes.

“But, darling! If she let them escort her away...then she plans to kill him! The future of our house and His Majesty’s life are all about to shatter!”

“It’s going to be fine! Rachel is seventeen now. She’s not a child. She’s old enough to make adult decisions.”

The duke tried to console his sobbing wife with words he didn’t believe. However, she took no comfort in them.

“Dan, you don’t understand. When she was just a little girl, I caught her singing ‘Lizzie Borden’ while gleefully swinging an ax!”

“Calm yourself, Iseria! It’s fine. It’s going to be fine! Rachel has grown into a proper young lady in the last ten years. These days, we don’t have to worry about her bludgeoning His Highness to death with a blunt instrument. I’m sure she’ll use hard-to-prosecute methods to destroy his psyche!”

“Really? Is Rachel really going to be okay? She might well burn the capital to the ground to kill him.”

“Believe in your daughter, Iseria. She is smart and well educated. She’d never do something stupid that would take her down with him. I’m sure she’ll employ methods that leave no trace to absolutely demolish him.”

What was his daughter thinking right now? Was he sure she wouldn’t resort to a weapon? The duke had no idea. He didn’t even know how to resolve this situation. All he could do at this juncture was sigh.

A number of servants had gathered around the two of them, but they’d all been with the family far too long to comment on the current situation.

“Pardon me.”

As the duke was rubbing his wife’s back comfortingly, a person with a voice so utterly calm it seemed out of place in this nervous excitement sought permission to enter the room.

Looking to see who it was, the duke found Rachel’s personal maid and childhood friend, Sofia, bowing her head.

“Oh, Sofia. Your timing is perfect. Have you heard about Rachel?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“I will be heading to the government office to lodge an immediate complaint. You will be accompanying me, so get ready. You’ll bring Rachel the things she’ll need while she’s in prison. If they refuse, use my name to make them let you through.”

Whatever else they were going to do, they needed to ensure that Rachel, who had been taken from the party straight to the dungeon, had a change of clothes and other necessities. He thought it would be fastest to have Sofia, who knew Rachel best, make the preparations.

However, Sofia said, “No, that is already taken care of.”

“You’re already prepared? I should have expected no less from you.”

“Yes. The preparations have been made, and her things have already been delivered.”

“I see. You work fast. Huh? Already delivered?”

When he looked at Sofia, who’d just nonchalantly said something he couldn’t possibly ignore, the ashen-haired girl and the two other maids behind her nodded.

“The young mistress discovered in advance that her engagement was to end tonight. That is why, with her direction, we have already prepared the food and necessities that she will need for the next three months and delivered them to the dungeon.”

Unlike Rachel, who could show a surprising amount of expression in private, Sofia wore a steel mask. She delivered shocking facts as if she were merely relating common sense without so much as batting an eyelash.

“Huh?” the duke murmured. All sorts of doubts raced through his mind as he pressed a hand to his forehead. “H-Hold on. She knew in advance? Why would Rachel deliberately refrain from preventing it? And I know it’s only for one person, but how did you carry enough supplies to live on for three months into the castle?”

“She was unsure if he would truly go through with it,” Sofia explained, “but when she learned of his plans to scrap the engagement, the young mistress said, ‘So you’re telling me I can be rid of that idiot in a way that leaves him responsible for it, and I get a vacation? Splendid!’”

Sofia’s tone had clearly said, “Why ask something so obvious?”

The duke sighed. “Rachel...”

“Also, ever since her engagement to the prince was decided, we, the Black Cats of the Dark Night, have been inserting ourselves in key positions at the palace. As long as we know in advance that an event like this is coming, our forces can easily sneak in supplies under the guise of their official duties.”

“Rachel, what exactly are you trying to do?!”

The duke was relieved to learn that his daughter was in a more even state of mind than he’d feared. But, at the same time, he shuddered with terror as he realized that his daughter’s darkness ran deeper than he’d ever suspected.

How was there an intelligence organization operating out of his house without his knowing? And how were they so ingrained in the palace that they had free rein to bring in carts full of supplies? That was more than what the spy networks of some nations could manage. If Rachel had taken it this far, it would be easy for her to assassinate one little prince, right?

Thoughts like these raced through the duke’s head. He decided to give up on thinking.

“Anyway, I’ll go to the government office and lodge that complaint,” he said.

“Take care,” Sofia called after him.

05: The Young Lady Chases off the Prince

Rachel was supposed to be confined, yet she was free to do as she pleased. She had brought in her favorite furniture to relax on while she read books, and she was enjoying a leisurely cup of tea.

Elliott, who had been staring at this in disbelief, snapped back to his senses. He shouted at her through the bars, “This is a prison, okay?! What are you relaxing for?!”

“I believe you were the ones who told me that a man’s home is his castle,” Rachel replied.

“This is still a bit much though, isn’t it?! Hey! Do something about this, idiot!”

The guard didn’t know how to respond, but of course he didn’t. He hesitantly said, “I’m not sure what you expect me to do...”

“I didn’t chuck her in prison so she could have a nice vacation! Confiscate all the stuff she’s brought in there!”

Elliott could shout all he wanted, but the reason they’d called him here was because they couldn’t do anything about it.

“About that, Your Highness... The thing is...” the guard muttered. He then explained about the lock.

Elliott’s jaw dropped again. “Wha—? She’s shut herself up in there?”

The guard thought the way the beautiful, sparkling prince just stared at him with vacant eyes was unsettling, or maybe just stupid. “What shall we do?” he asked, having no idea how to proceed.

Elliott wanted to ask the same question. He glanced at Sykes, but Sykes was just standing there, his mouth agog still. He was being extremely unreliable at the moment.

Her brother’s smart, so we should’ve brought him with us, Elliott thought. However, if he were to call for George now, it would prove his own ineptitude. He angrily scratched his head as he tried to come up with an answer, but even after racking his brains, all he could think of was brute force.

“Break the lock! We can open the cell if we cut the chains!” Elliott bellowed. He kicked Sykes in the rump. “Hey, call some knights in here! Have them bring tools!”

“Huh...? Oh! Yes, sir!” The sound of his footsteps as he clumsily raced up the stairs echoed behind him.

Elliott laughed sneeringly at Rachel. “You may think you’ve been very clever, but know that this has worsened my opinion of you! I’ll soon return you to the state you were meant to be in. You’ll not have so much as a blanket left. Quiver in fear as you imagine the miserable conditions that await you!” he declared with a sinister smile. It made him look like nothing more than a petty villain—a fact he was oblivious to.

As the prince’s former fiancée glanced over her shoulder at him, the corners of her mouth turned up and she let out a short nasal laugh.

“Oh, wouldn’t it be nice if that worked out for you.”

Sykes returned with four or five knights in tow. The prince immediately showed them the lock in question.

“This is it,” Elliott snarled.

“Urk... We’re going to cut that?!” one of the knights cried out. The rest of them looked similarly exasperated, naturally so. The chain the knight was holding was made of steel about a centimeter thick. That wasn’t the diameter of the chain, but of the metal itself. Steel rings with a circumference of five or six centimeters made up the chain. If someone were to say it was the chain from the castle gate, you’d probably believe them because of how durable it was. And here it was on the door of a mere jail cell.

The padlock attached to it was likewise massive. Rachel, with her slender frame, probably couldn’t even lift it without using both hands. She’d also carefully positioned the keyhole so that it wasn’t visible from outside the bars.

“We were told there was a chain that needed cutting, so we brought bolt cutters,” one of the knights said, producing a specialized pair of scissors used for cutting iron bolts. They were enormous, and their cutting force was multiplied several times over because of the leverage in their design. And yet...

“If it were made of lead, we might still be able to cut it, but...”

“You can’t cut it?!” Elliott screeched.

“It’s made of steel, right? And not cast steel, but tempered steel.”

Just to be sure, two of the knights tried cutting it together, but no matter what they did, they couldn’t even scratch it.

“It’s no use,” one of the knights admitted.

Elliott wasn’t having that, though. “If the two of you can’t do it, then four of you try!”

“Your Highness, just because the steel is twice as thick doesn’t mean that doubling the number of people will cut through it.”

“It doesn’t?! Urgh. Isn’t there anything we can do?! Is...there no other way?”

“We did bring a metal saw...”

The saw was designed for cutting metal, and the knights took turns with it.

“Your Highness, we’ve made a faint scratch.”

“Hmm... That’s all you could do after thirty minutes, huh?”

At this rate, it would probably take until morning to cut all the way through it. The enormity of the task was starting to dawn on Elliott.

The last knight to use the saw showed the prince its blade. “And look at this. The blade’s gone smoother than a bald man’s head.”

“Is there another saw?” Elliott asked, sounding desperate.

“We could search the castle, but I’m not sure there is...”

Silence fell over the dungeon...until the sound of stifled laughter disrupted it. Elliott turned to see Rachel’s shoulders shaking as she read her book.

The pretty boy prince’s blood raced to his head, and he kicked the cell bars. “Hey! Just who do you think is at fault for this disturbance?!”

“Why, you, Your Highness. If you hadn’t put me in the dungeon, this...‘disturbance’...wouldn’t have happened.”

“Urgh!”

Elliott’s cheeks burned as he felt everyone looking at him. I’ll get her for this!

When you got down to it, Rachel was right. He’d started this. He had canceled their engagement, condemned her, and thrown her in the dungeon. Still, Elliott was seething, angry that a woman he’d seen as nothing more than an “attractive doll” had humiliated him. He couldn’t just walk away.

“Hey! Bring a spear and impale this wretch!” Elliott demanded.

“Y-Your Highness?!”

Sykes, the prison guard, and the knights were all shocked. Nevertheless, Elliott kept on shouting.

“I’m not telling you to kill her. You just need to injure her enough that she can’t stay cooped up in there. Make her open the lock and come out on her own!”

“I mean, yes, that would work, but...” Sykes trailed off as he and the knights glanced at one another.

It would be hard to claim that the way the prince broke off his engagement and imprisoned his former fiancée followed official procedures. The palace, which included the dungeon, was the property of the king, and Elliott didn’t have the authority to put Rachel in there. It wouldn’t be wrong to say he was misappropriating the dungeon for his own ends. They couldn’t make any decisions until the king, who was traveling for a royal inspection, had returned.

Was it really wise to compound things by injuring the prince’s fiancée when the cancellation of their engagement was still not recognized? She hadn’t committed any crime, aside from bullying the prince’s girlfriend, and that was clearly not a jailable or executable offense. If they were to follow the prince’s orders, they might be punished for it. And they didn’t think the prince would save them if that happened.

As Sykes and the knights stared at one another, silently trying to pass the buck, the prince grew impatient.

“Hey, what’s taking so long?! You just have to stab her a lit...tle...” Elliott stopped midway through his shouting and froze.

Sykes cocked his head. “Hm?”

The others turned to look at the prince, finding it strange that he’d trailed off like that. However, when they saw what Elliott was looking at, they all froze as well.

Rachel was now standing, and she leveled a crossbow at them with impeccable form.

“Y-You brought a weapon in there?!” Elliott hissed. “A weapon...in a prison?! You have no common sense!”

“Whatever are you saying? This is not a weapon.”

“Huh? It’s not?”

“It is a tool for my own self-defense.”

“That’s the same thing, you dolt!”

Rachel’s aim was fixed on Elliott for now, but she was holding it in such a way that she could easily adjust to target any of them. The knights had no ranged weapons of their own to fight back.

As she saw the men stepping back, Rachel smiled sardonically. “Knowing your lack of wit and patience, I was able to see this situation coming. I might add that unlike you, Your Highness—who was too busy chasing girls around town—I had a fondness for hunting with my father and uncle. I’ve shot my fair share of birds in flight, you know?”

Rachel flashed them a smile that sent chills rushing down their spines.

“It was about three years ago. The village we were staying in was attacked by bandits. Our soldiers put them down immediately, of course, but I helped and shot down three of those animals. In other words, if someone means to do me harm, I will not hesitate to shoot them. Do keep that in mind before you come at me, would you?”

All Sykes and the rest could think was “Oh, crap.”

These days, not even the knights saw active combat. So even if they or the soldiers could fight the enemy, they still needed to mentally prepare themselves before landing the final blow. Killing their opponent with a lucky strike was different from knowing for a fact that the strike would kill. There were only a handful of veteran knights who could take down their opposition so easily.

That was the sort of peaceful world they lived in, yet here was a young lady of high nobility who’d tested her mettle in battle. If she were to say, “I will kill you,” then it was probably true. Both Elliott and Sykes could sense that.

Rachel cutely cocked her head. “If you’re not going to do anything to me, then I will allow you idiots to remain there, watching. However, if you intend to break into the cell and do me harm, I will exercise my right to defend myself. Okay?” Still smiling, she gestured to the stairs with her chin. “Now, if you’ve no further business here, I’ll ask you to leave.”

No one there had the presence of mind to realize that the prisoner was ordering them around. The knights did as Rachel instructed, dragging Elliott, who was too stunned to move, with them as they left. It looked as though they were protecting their master as they retreated, but they only did it because they couldn’t flee as long as a superior officer was there. Incidentally, the prison guard was the first to hightail it out of there.

As Sykes was pushing him up the stairs, Elliott recovered enough to yell, “If you want to be in prison so bad, then you can stay there as long as you like! But I won’t be giving you food, or anything else, got it?! I won’t let you out even if you ask! Not even if you cry and beg!”

Though her ex-fiancé was spouting vitriol at her, Rachel opened her book again and yawned.

“I do wish you would say that sort of thing to my face.”

Rachel wasn’t expecting a response. By the time she’d finished saying it, the chickenhearted prince was already long gone.

Rachel fell asleep hugging her book, her thoughts racing to the self-indulgent life that awaited her tomorrow.

06: The Young Lady Hears Something Wonderful

This happened a few weeks before Rachel was thrown in the dungeon.

As he was sweeping the porte cochere in the evening, the gate guard for the ducal house of Ferguson saw a carriage approaching. He called inside, saying, “The young lady has returned!”

The servants hurriedly prepared to welcome her, and the gate guard ran to his post. He just barely opened the gates in time as the carriage bearing the family’s crest sped through without slowing. Rachel, the crown prince’s fiancée and the future queen of the country, was just now returning from her special lessons at the palace.

The servants, led by the butler and the head maid, stood on both sides of the hall, their heads bowed. Rachel walked along, smiling. When the butler asked how her studies went, she gave him a brief self-assessment, then told the head maid she would take dinner two hours later, as was her usual routine.

Rachel climbed the grand staircase, cheerfully greeting each of the maids and servants who bowed to her, and headed to her room, where she promptly collapsed on the bed.

“Oh... I’m exhausted.”

Sofia and her other personal maids wordlessly stripped her out of her clothes, ignoring their mistress’s complaints. Her lessons at the palace were apparently quite difficult, as could be seen by the way she always collapsed as soon as she got home. For the next two hours, Rachel’s attendants would nurse her back to health, put her in a bath, and make her presentable for dinner with the duke.

It was an impressive trick, being able to render their mistress completely naked while she was still lying face down. But certainly the maids could do it. Ever since Rachel had begun taking lessons at the palace, they had been hard at work polishing their talents in order to support her. They could easily remove her clothes while she was lying down so as to lessen the burden on their mistress. There was no one there to ask perfectly logical questions, like “Couldn’t they just strip her while she’s standing?” Whatever Rachel chose to do took priority.

Once the maids finished undressing her, they laid a thin sheet over Rachel and stepped back. Sofia came forward and used her index fingers to quickly massage Rachel’s entire body from head to foot.

Based on the tension in Rachel’s muscles, Sofia asked, “It was four hours of seated lectures, and two of dancing, followed by...table manners, and an inspection of the surrounding area, yes?”

Face still buried in her pillow, Rachel deftly managed to shake her head. “No. It was three hours of seated lectures, two of dancing, one of walking, and two on how to elegantly watch a play—as well as learning the proper manners for a social event attended only by ladies. It all left my shoulders feeling stiff.”

“How does one elegantly watch a play?” Sofia asked.

“You swagger pompously while watching the stage intently with a smile. Or you at least make it look like you are. Those hags made me practice by watching an empty stage while they told me that my posture was bad and that I needed to exude the dignity of a royal. Then they told me my eyes were dead, and to make them sparkle with mirth. Surely no one can be passionate about a stage with no performers.”

“From an outsider’s perspective, that does sound like a silly lesson.”

“From an insider’s perspective, it is silly.”

At Sofia’s signal, another eight maids surrounded Rachel. Then Sofia comforted Rachel, saying, “Oh, you poor dear. Let us do everything we can to soothe your tired body, young mistress.”

“I know I always say this, but do go easy on me...”

“Certainly,” Sofia said, nodding. She looked at the other maids and ordered, “Today I want you to focus on the shoulders, and the area from her shins to the bottom of her feet! She seems quite stiff, so be thorough! Everyone, hop to it!”

“I said go easy on me, didn’t I?! Gaaaaaah!”

Nine maids, including Sofia, descended on Rachel in unison. They massaged and pressed pressure points with the utmost zeal. Their work was professional too. They used not just the tips of their fingers, but the second joints as well, along with acupressure sticks. They worked on her entire body all at once. As the head personal servant, Sofia had the honor of massaging Rachel’s stiffest area, the bottoms of her feet.

“Haugh?! Gwah! Yaaaah! Ow! That huuuurts!”

It was often said that a massage could help you sleep restfully, but this was nothing so tame. It was an absolute assault on Rachel’s body. The maids held her down as she thrashed about in pain, loosening up her muscles with all their might.

“I know I ask this every time,” Rachel interjected, “but why do you have to do my whole body all at once?!”

“And I explain every time that we do not have time to focus on each spot individually. I am sorry, but it has to be this way.”

“You sound like you’re enjoying it an awful lot for someone who’s sorry!”

“One small thrust from me makes my mistress leap in pain. How could I be anything but amused?” Sofia quipped.

“If you have problems with your work situation, just go on strike, okay?!”

“We do this all for you, young mistress. Oh, my. Your kidneys...”

“Agaaaaaah!”

“You seem quite exhausted,” Sofia noted.

“Gaaaah!”

“Hmm, if your yongquan is making you jump this much, then your legs must be quite tense too. Lisa, Mimosa, pay special attention to her chengshan and zusanli.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Stoooop!”

Gently carrying their half-conscious mistress to the bath, they left her to simmer on low heat. Once her snow white skin had turned a nice shade of pink, they scooped her out, wrapped her in a bathrobe, and gave her a gentle massage to relieve any muscle pain from the previous one. Once they gave her a cold glass of lemonade to sip on, Rachel finally came back to her senses.

“Day after day, I attend tiresome lectures on how to act as queen, and then this torment comes along as part of a set. My life is hell. I should never have gotten engaged to the prince.”

“But thanks to that, we are able to enjoy ourselves every day,” Sofia remarked.

“Blow off your stress from work by shopping or eating, would you?”

“That sort of thing is hard on the wallet, and I would prefer to avoid pastimes that make me gain weight. Besides, do you think there is any entertainment greater than a well-to-do young lady’s screams?”

“Yes? There must be lots of things.”

As Rachel settled in, watching the maids prepare the clothes and makeup she would wear to dinner, Sofia pulled out a summary of the day’s reports for her.

“There are many things to note, but one is of great urgency,” Sofia informed her.

“Oh, my. What might that be? Have our routes for passing secret messages through the palace been compromised?” Rachel took a sip of lemonade, cocking her head as Sofia silently handed her the report. “Let’s see... ‘E is plotting to end his engagement with boss.’ Huh?” She paused, sounding dumbfounded. “It even says, ‘He is already made the decision and is taking concrete steps toward a plan.’”

As Rachel fell silent and stared at the paper, Sofia explained, “We reported before that the young daughter of a baron has been moving at the palace recently, and the prince’s hangers-on have all become infatuated with her. It seems they have finally resolved to make her queen and are taking steps to remove you from the equation. Unfortunately, young master George is one of them. As proof, he participated in their meeting, yet he has made no mention of it to the house.”

Having finished her explanation, Sofia lowered her voice and asked, “What shall we do?”

If Rachel were to move those who were loyal to her, it would be simple to crush the prince’s plans, or even the prince himself. The agents that she’d trained held enough power to do so.

“Well...” Rachel returned the paper to Sofia. “I think we need to use more code words. It’s blatantly obvious who the boss is in this message, isn’t it?”

“I am terribly sorry. When we created our code, we obviously had not anticipated a situation such as this.” Sofia put the report in her pocket, looked at her mistress with upturned eyes, and asked, “So, what do we do?”

“Hmm. It’s certainly an unexpected development...”

As Rachel fell silent, glaring at the air in front of her, Sofia continued to watch her quietly.

Prince Elliott, the man Sophia’s young mistress was to marry, was attractive and popular, especially with the young girls. But there were a number of unpleasant rumors about him. If he had a dark history, that would be one thing, but he merely was prone to incredible blunders.

That would not do.

Obviously, it was fortunate that he had good looks, but if what was behind that exterior could not measure up to Rachel’s prodigious wit, their married life would quickly deteriorate. It wasn’t uncommon for petty nobles to be in a loveless marriage maintained only for appearances, but if the couple in question were the future king and queen of the country... Well, you didn’t have to be one of Rachel’s servants to see the danger there.

If he were a simpleton who would do everything Rachel told him, things would still be manageable, but Elliott’s incompetence was unacceptable. People said that, despite his ineptness, he was exceptionally prideful. If Rachel were to tell him to do this or that, he was bound to get indignant and oppose her on everything even though he had no talent. In fact, from what Rachel—and her agents who’d infiltrated the palace—had told her, the slovenly prince did not get along with Rachel because of her irreproachable conduct. When Rachel told him to get his act together, he would get annoyed and refuse to listen to a word she said.

To think a mere prince would defy the young mistress...

Sofia felt a murderous rage for this impertinent royal who really ought to have known his place. As soon as Rachel gave her permission, she planned to tear that stupid, talentless, cheating, senseless, garbage prince limb from limb.

Sofia, by the way, had never met Elliott. Her estimate of his worth was completely based on rumors. While she tried to be impartial, when something was to the disadvantage of her young mistress, Sofia tended to lose her head—but only just a little. She thought it was a cute foible of hers.

Rachel sat her empty glass down and turned to face Sofia.

“So, what precisely do they intend to do?”

“They plan to condemn you at the party next month that opens the season of social events. And, after declaring your engagement null and void, the baroness’s daughter will take your place.”

“That makes sense,” Rachel mused. “Only the young nobles will be there. He won’t have to worry about our parents or influential politicians stepping in to stop him. This must have been George’s idea.”

“You could tell?”

Rachel shrugged. “Prince Elliott would just come tell me after he made up his mind, never bothering to lay the groundwork.”

“He is quite the idiot,” Sofia commented.

“They do say that all of his genes went exclusively to his good looks, leaving none for his brain. Anyway, both the king and queen will be away performing an inspection of the southern mining region and holding a top-level conference with the leaders of a principality. The timing was well chosen, at least for something George came up with.”

“Could there be another schemer...?”

“His Highness’s other hangers-on include one man with muscles for brains who is only interested in counting calories, and seven or eight yes-men who I’ve never been able to tell apart.”

“Even if you were not involved, that lineup would still leave one concerned for the kingdom’s future.”

“That must be why His Majesty didn’t want him to assume power.”

As Rachel rose from the sofa, she let her bathrobe fall to the ground. The maids saw her skin was no longer flushed and began dressing her in fresh clothes.

“Now, Sofia, if I am condemned at this party and the baron’s young daughter takes my place as the prince’s fiancée...what does His Highness intend to do with me after that? He’s planning to excoriate me in public, so he won’t have me knifed when no one is around, right?”

“These children think their plan is going to work, so I doubt they have thought it through that far. They intend to force you to admit to bullying the baron’s daughter and apologize. Then, when His Majesty returns, they will drag you before him and have you confess your crimes so that the change of fiancées goes smoothly. That seems to be their plan.”

“Sloughing off the responsibility of dealing with me to my father and His Majesty. Wait, so they haven’t thought that far ahead?”

“Precisely,” Sofia confirmed.

Rachel, now dressed in a simple dress for wearing around the house, sat down on a stool. The maids responsible for her makeup draped a scarf around her neck and began powdering her face. Rachel preferred light makeup, so they only used a little. They soon traded the powder puffs for brushes and began applying lipstick.

“There’s about a week between the party and His Majesty’s return, right?” Rachel asked. “Hasn’t it occurred to them that even if I were to meekly apologize, I might recant once I returned home?”

“I cannot imagine you ever so meekly apologizing, young mistress. But...they must be assuming that if they make a big enough show of denouncing you in front of everyone at the party, there will be no way to overturn that fact.”

“You can’t imagine it? I’ll have you know I’m famous at court for being a meek and modest young lady.”

“A wolf is a wolf even if it does not howl. I can only laugh at how dim all the members of polite society are. Ha ha ha ha ha.”

Recalling one piece of information she had thus far neglected to tell her mistress—who seemed upset for some reason—Sofia reported, “Oh, right. In the event you defiantly refuse to admit your crimes, they intend to throw you in the dungeon until you come crying to them.”

Rachel stared blankly at her. “The dungeon...?”

“Yes. They intend to confine you in the dungeon.”

“There’s one of those in the palace?”

Rachel’s surprise was understandable. Something so dark as a palace dungeon seemed out of place in this easygoing, peaceful kingdom. It wasn’t as though nobles never committed crimes, but you never heard of them being imprisoned inside the palace.

“I confirmed it for myself after receiving this information. The building facing the rear garden, which is used for storage as well as emergency lodging for courtiers, contains a prison that is half underground. It seems to have been built by the king seven generations ago so that he could torment traitors.”

It was a relic from the days of bloody strife at court. In other words...

“That means it’s from about a century ago, right? Is it still usable?” Rachel asked.

“The room has nothing but stone walls and iron bars. All of the interior has been removed, but it seems the running water has been maintained. Or rather, it just works on its own still. On very rare occasions, an official will come around to check the facilities.”

At this point, the man in charge of patrolling the area must still have been enjoying a happy, ordinary life.

“They can’t have many people to put in there,” Rachel noted. “I suppose they must have a lot of extra space in the castle.”

Looking at the report Sofia had given her, Rachel was shocked by the size of the dungeon sketched there. If the dimensions were to be believed, the two rooms together were about the size of a tennis court.

“The dungeon was intended for imprisoning important members of the nobility,” Sofia explained, “so perhaps they were generous in their estimates of required living space?”

“Perhaps the walls and pillars were built to conform with the shape of the floors above.”

It wasn’t clear what had caught Rachel’s attention, but she began pacing as she stared at the paper. The maid in charge of accessories followed behind her, trying to get the necklace around her neck.

Rachel stopped. The maid hurriedly put her jewelry on.

“Sofia, the party in question is three weeks from now, right?”

“Yes, that is correct?” Sofia cocked her head. She was sure that Rachel was about to crush the garbage prince’s plans, so what did this have to do with the dungeon?

“Could you show me the report on the goods the Black Cat Company is dealing in?”

“Huh? Yes, young mistress.”

Sofia was becoming less and less sure of what her mistress was talking about.

The Black Cat Company was a front for the Black Cats of the Night, a group of operatives that Rachel maintained for herself—separate from those of the ducal house. Using the business of domestic and foreign trade as a cover, the Black Cat Company raised funds for their activities and maintained contact with an intelligence network that operated everywhere. Of course, even if the company was a front, Rachel had built the organization. They handled their business properly.

Rachel looked through the list of recent products, stopping to carefully peruse some pages. She normally kept her expression to a careful facade, but she broke out into a genuine grin as she said, “This is good...”

“Huh? What is...?”

“Sofia.”

“Yes, young mistress.”

“If my engagement ends at the party, then I’ll no longer be the next queen, correct?”

“Yes, that is true, but... I cannot see His Majesty accepting it. I have never met the man myself, but surely he cannot be as stupid as his son.”

That was some serious lèse-majesté there, Ms. Sofia, Rachel thought. Not that she minded.

“That’s not a problem,” Rachel replied. “He won’t be at the party, after all.”

No, there wouldn’t be anyone there to stop Prince Elliott.

“When he breaks off our engagement at the party, I’ll deny his accusations.”

Sofia nodded. “Right...”

“Then I’ll get him to chuck me in the dungeon.”

“You will ‘get him to’...?”

Rachel held up the manifest of goods and proudly declared, “I’m going on an indefinite vacation!”

Sofia and the maids were always in perfect sync with Rachel, but every last one of them froze. Sofia was the first to regain her senses enough to speak.

“Young mistress, I am not sure what you mean by that.”

“Oh, my, Sofia. If even you don’t understand, then nobody can.”

“Yes, of that you can be certain.”

Rachel gleefully flicked the list with her finger. “Once my engagement to His Highness is over, I’ll no longer be his fiancée. Do you follow me so far?”

“Yes.”

Sofia and the other maids nodded, so Rachel continued.

“That means I’ll no longer be the next queen. So I’ll no longer be required to take the lessons to become one.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Sofia agreed.

“As a result, I will have free time.”

“That does follow, yes.”

The maids looked at one another, sensing something ominous.

“So! I think I’ll use all the time I didn’t have thanks to those lessons to take it easy and indulge in my hobbies!”

“I understand your reasoning now,” Sofia acknowledged.

“What do you mean, my ‘reasoning’?” Rachel asked, puffing out her cheeks.

On behalf of the maids, Sofia started working through Rachel’s logic.

“I understand that you want to use the free time generated by your broken engagement to take a vacation.”

“Yes,” Rachel confirmed.

“However, I do not see the connection between that and the dungeon. Could you not just go along with things, then hurry back to the mansion and leave for somewhere more picturesque?”

“Now, Sofia, that just won’t do.” Rachel lightly poked Sofia on the forehead, like you might do to a child who got a failing grade. “If I don’t put everything into my escape attempt, those disgusting old hags will drag me back here in no time.”

Sofia, who had been speechless, now recovered. “In short, your goal is to use imprisonment as an excuse to escape from Duchess Somerset and your other tutors’ lessons, then?”

“Yep!!!” Rachel raised both arms in the air and spun around. She seemed absolutely delighted. “Isn’t it great? Not only will my engagement to that ignoramus be canceled—and he’ll be the one responsible for it—but I also get to escape Duchess Somerset and the hags for a vacation where I don’t have to do anything! It’s wonderful!”

Sadly for Rachel, who was quite happy with her plan, there was a hole in it.

Sofia shook her head. “Young mistress, when His Majesty returns, that garbage prince’s nonsense will all be swept away. But even before that, there is no way that a good-for-nothing like His Majesty could possibly stand up to Duchess Somerset and the other ladies of the court, is there?”

“Sofia, you really shouldn’t talk about His Majesty like that in public, okay?” Rachel chided.

Ignoring that shot from Rachel, Sofia continued, “What I am saying is that even if you are thrown in prison, they will haul you back out the next day.”

This did nothing to change Rachel’s smile. “Well, I’ll just have to be sure that they can’t haul me out, then.”

“Come again?!”

There was no uncertainty in Rachel’s eyes as she explained, “I just have to lock the prison from the inside.”

“From the inside?”

“That’s right.”

Was it even a prison anymore if the lock was on the inside?

“Now that that’s settled, it’s time to prepare for a fun vacation!”

“A fun...vacation...?” Sofia muttered.

It seemed that Rachel had a different idea of what prison was like than most people.

“Now, if we assume I’ll be in there for longer, say three months, I’ll need preserved foods and other things to last me that long. There’s a lot of different types of canned goods now, you know? Let’s have the Black Cat Company find me some good stuff! We’ll prepare in advance by bringing things in little by little so as not to alert the prison guard, and we’ll clean up the cell. We’ll need to research ways to keep in contact and evade palace security too! It’s indoors, so I won’t need a tent, but what should I do for bedding? Oh, there’s so little time, and so much to get ready!”

Rachel’s heart raced with excitement as if she were preparing for a camping trip. Sofia and the other maids looked at one another, seeing how much fun their mistress was having. But when they realized Rachel was serious, they all bowed their heads in unison.

“Understood,” Sofia stated.

For Sofia and the other maids, Rachel always came first. As far as they were concerned, whatever the young mistress decided, even if it was out of step with the world around her, was right. If she was running away from the harsh reality of her lessons as future queen, then so long as she was enjoying herself, that was good enough for them.

“In that case, young mistress, as the dungeon is underground, we will need to prepare a large number of lights and some insect repellant.”

“I also think you should bring more than the minimum amount of food. You’ll want sweets and tea too, won’t you?”

“If you can’t walk around, then you should bring along novels and collections of poetry.”

“Oh, my. You’re all getting into this too!” Rachel exclaimed.

Not one of them tried to stop Rachel as her fun vacation plan got underway.

In the dining hall...

“Hey, what’s taking Rachel so long?” the duke asked. “It’s already been four hours since she came home.”

“She said it would be two hours...”

“I’m hungry,” the duke grumbled.