Princess Ella's personal attendant cleared his throat quietly outside her bedchamber.
As he knocked twice—just as protocol dictated—the servant beside him, who shared the same shade of violet hair, stood trembling as though awaiting his execution.
“Act normal,” the attendant muttered.
The trembling one was
Kai Gerda
—not a servant, but a captive.
According to the current intelligence, he was the second son of Duke Gerda and had deserted from the duke’s northern expedition unit.
“They said they’d kill me if I didn’t go to battle… so I ran.”
Those were Kai’s words, translated by someone fluent in the northern dialect. His reasoning was simple, yet revealing.
“Even if we are outsiders, I still hate killing.”
He had fled the battlefield out of an aversion to taking life.
Upon reading this, Ella had chuckled softly.
“Say he’s a new attendant. Call him a distant cousin. I want him kept near me.”
Her attendant had been puzzled by this command. Kai held no particular value—not enough to risk offending Duke Gerda by harboring his deserter son.
“Truly, Her Highness is an enigma…”
But a servant does not exist to question a princess’s thoughts—only to carry out her will.
Now, the attendant glanced uneasily at Kai, still trembling at his side.
This one is still far too untrustworthy… and why does he tremble like that just standing still?
Even when the attendant had dyed Kai’s hair, the young man had shaken like a leaf.
Then came the rustle of sheets, and from inside, the princess’s voice rang out.
“Come in.”
As the door opened, downy feathers from pillows and quilts swirled in the air like drifting snow.
Kai froze in place, but the head attendant calmly entered and placed the tray on the table. He then opened the windows, letting a breeze in that sent the feathers dancing even more wildly.
Kai, caught in that dreamlike scene, stood speechless as he watched Ella rise slowly from bed, her hair tousled like a storm cloud.
From beneath the blankets, a man’s leg—undoubtedly masculine—peeked out.
Ella glanced sideways at Kai and the attendant, then lazily swept her hair back.
“Newspaper.”
Kai, still stunned, only moved when Ella fixed him with a sharp gaze. He quickly stepped forward and offered the newspaper with both hands.
Reading the morning news was Ella’s daily ritual. Though she once devoured books on many subjects, her growing involvement in business and statecraft had forced her to scale back.
While she opened the newspaper, a man with equally disheveled hair sat up in the bed behind her.
“Y-Your Highness…?”
He clutched the blanket up to his chest, staring wide-eyed at the intrusion. Kai avoided eye contact, but Ella replied without a hint of concern.
“Awake already? You could’ve slept in.”
As the man scrambled to dress himself awkwardly, the head attendant leaned in toward Ella and reported,
“Your Highness, Young Lord Eric has entered the palace to assist with the royal guard’s morning cultivation drills.”
“He’s already here? That sleepless brat…”
Ella yawned widely, waving her hand lazily. In the meantime, Kai slipped into the adjoining bath chamber as previously instructed—he was tasked with preparing her bath.
As soon as he was gone, the man crawled out of bed and perched shyly on the sofa opposite Ella.
He glanced at her with a bashful smile while she focused on the newspaper.
“U-Um… then, Princess… when should I return again?”
Ella, reading a headline about the Temple’s growing disapproval of Eric and Emelline’s spiritual union, didn’t even look up.
“Again?”
“Y-Yes, I mean… when would be a good time for me to visit the palace again…?”
Ella furrowed her brow and lowered the newspaper, clearly unable to focus on the man’s words.
“Ah, entering the palace… well… if Royal Father happens to invite the Cullen Clan to a royal banquet or something, then they can just come, can’t they?”
The face of the Cullen Clan’s young master, seated on the sofa, froze.
“Pardon? But… Your Highness’s birthday banquet is just a week away…”
Ella tilted her head slightly.
Was her birthday already just a week away? Time flew far too quickly. She scowled slightly at the thought of the unwelcome celebration, but then she noticed the young man’s face was flushing bright red.
‘Wait… don’t tell me…’
Ella couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.
“…?”
The young master’s expression stiffened even more.
“Oh, that party… as you already know, I only send invitations to a very select number of clans…”
Ella scratched her chin with an awkward look.
“Ah… so what you’re saying is…”
“It’s unlikely the Cullen Clan would make that list, wouldn’t you agree?”
“B-But yesterday, you clearly said that you l—!”
Ella bit her lip to stifle a laugh as she glanced at the pitiful expression on the young master’s face.
To think he still treasured words murmured during a moment of passion in bed… maybe he was worth keeping around just a little longer. Adorable.
But such thoughts quickly dissipated. She remembered that she’d have to placate Lady Margaret’s expectations at the party.
Ella’s eyes cooled as she spoke sharply.
“I like many things. I’m simply not the type to hate much.”
That line struck deep. The young master stood up with tear-filled eyes and stormed off.
Ella watched his retreating back and muttered to her attendant.
“So cute… but he’s lacking that sharp edge of defiance.”
The rumors that Ella was jealous and couldn’t bear other women touching what was ‘hers’ were utterly false. After all, she never bestowed affection more than once.
The attendant cleared his throat.
“The Cullen Clan…”
“They’ve never once traded with the Duke’s household,” Ella replied with a smirk. “They were clearly trying to set up their forge in the South. They probably assumed they could mine spirit stones from the Merfolk’s Graveyard.”
He’d babbled so freely atop the bed, it had taken all her will not to laugh out loud.
The attendant, clearly understanding, closed the door behind the fleeing young master.
Ella kneaded the back of her neck and stepped into the bath chamber. She let her robe slip smoothly to the floor.
“…?”
That’s when she felt a piercing gaze.
She finally noticed the rabbit-like boy—no, Kai—perched by the tub, drawing water.
Kai’s face was burning red, and his body was frozen like a statue.
Ella tilted her head.
“What are you doing? Move.”
Kai creaked to his feet like a broken automaton and shuffled to the side. Ella slid gracefully into the water he had drawn.
But Kai remained rigid, not daring to turn around or leave the room.
Ella frowned.
“What? Want to get in too?”
Only then did Kai shake his head furiously and turn to bolt from the room. Just as he was about to flee, Ella called out.
“Are you curious why I’m keeping you around?”
She spoke in the dialect of the Northern Territory.
Though not drastically different from the language of the capital in phonetics, her vocabulary and pronunciation were so flawless that Kai turned around in shock. But the moment his eyes caught sight of her smooth, bare shoulders, he dropped to his knees and turned away, flushed and flustered.
Ella chuckled softly at the sight.
“I studied hard for just one day, and it just clicked.”
“……”
Kai looked stunned.
He hadn’t known that Princess Ella could speak more than ten languages, including obscure dialects nearly unrecognizable from the national tongue.
“I’m just curious when your father plans to come looking for you.”
Ella leaned her head against the edge of the jade bath, her tone languid and serene.
“……”
Kai bit his lip.
“The palace physician said your tongue was cut out. Who did it?”
Ella gazed calmly at Kai’s profile as he sat, unmoving, on the tiled floor.
“He’s a castoff, they say. Not manly enough for the North,”
she recalled, repeating what her attendant had reported.
“They don’t even bother searching for their second son openly. Embarrassed, no doubt.”
Because they knew he had fled.
Ella extended a hand, wet with fragrant steam. Kai looked down at her open palm. After a hesitant pause, he wrote with trembling fingers:
“Father…”
Ella smiled, as though it all made sense.
But that smile vanished in a heartbeat. Her damp fingers closed around Kai’s chin, tilting his face up to hers.
Kai met her gaze, startled.
He must be ashamed.
A son who deserted the battlefield, shunned bloodshed and steel—how disgraceful for a family that prized conquest.
Ella locked eyes with him and said softly,
“You can’t speak with your tongue, but your face speaks clearly.”
Her fingertip brushed the heat still lingering on his cheek.
Then she withdrew her hand, lips curling into a serene arc.
“Beautiful.”
“……!”
“You were thinking that, weren’t you?”
Ella turned away.
Kai said nothing, but Ella’s voice came again, smooth and certain.
“I know.”
“……”
“You’re the same.”
“……”
“Now get out. And next time, make sure the water isn’t so hot.”
Despite the princess’s dismissal, Kai didn’t leave. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor like a puppet with cut strings.
✵
✵
✵
After promptly sending the young heir of House Curlin back to his own quarters, Ella made her way toward the Royal Guard’s training grounds.
The drill field was positioned directly below the third floor of the Princess’s Palace—perfectly visible from a certain balcony window.
Rather than heading straight to the grounds, Ella detoured to the third floor, pausing to admire the scene through the wide, open glass.
Kai, who followed behind her, blinked in confusion.
“……?”
Ella murmured with a sigh of appreciation,
“Ah… how divine… What a feast for the eyes…”
Kai stepped closer to the window and saw the view for himself.
Below, rows of warriors—many stripped to the waist—trained beneath the sun, drinking water, wiping sweat, or watching spars with folded arms.
The sunlight shimmered across sweat-slick muscles, and droplets of water clung to chiseled torsos like jewels. Their bodies glistened with motion and might.
Ella beamed, utterly satisfied.
Kai’s expression tightened with unease.
Ella caught his look and chuckled.
“Over there—that’s Eric d’Orléans, assisting the knights with their training. Keep it in mind. He’s like you.”
“One of mine.”
At that, Kai’s face relaxed… like snow melting under the first sun of spring.
Ella let out a quiet chuckle.
‘Your face always gives you away…’
✵
✵
✵
The following day at the Duke’s estate.
After receiving a check-up from the personal physician—already bribed by Erik—I found myself staring blankly at the salmon filet steak served for breakfast in the dining hall.
“Why… doesn’t it move my soul anymore?”
On my first day here, despite the rigorous training from the butler weighing down my spirits, every meal I had in this residence felt like a heavenly feast.
Including the midnight snack, I’d consumed four meals in total, and each time, I inwardly exclaimed with awe.
But now, after just five meals, my palate had already become fully attuned to the luxurious cuisine of this grand manor.
“It’s still good, but…”
It no longer sparked the same amazement as before.
“So this is what they meant when they said human greed knows no end…”
A once-impoverished cultivator who had swiftly adapted to the tastes of the elite—I couldn’t help but marvel at the shamelessness of my own tongue.
“Remember the days you gnawed on tree roots, Imelin… my tongue, have you forgotten?”
Yet the gritty texture of bark and the shocking tingle from eating partially rotten scraps now felt like memories from a past life—so distant, I could no longer recreate them in my mind.
Instead, my thoughts drifted toward how the salmon’s seasoning felt slightly off, or how the accompanying salad's plating seemed uninspired.
“Ah… I truly despise what I’ve become.”
“…Does the meal not suit your taste?”
Nina asked cautiously, noticing the dark cloud over my expression.
“No… it’s not that. I just… wish the skin had been a bit crispier…”
I paused, startled by my own words. It was the sort of thing Erik might say. At this rate, I’d soon be speaking like Princess Ella herself—
“Rosemary? No, a dash of olive oil infused with nature’s essence would have better matched the spirit of this dish. Still, I shall commend the courage it took to present such fare to someone of my station.”
A natural emergence of class consciousness born from too much indulgence.
“So warmth and a full belly… are truly dangerous things.”
Chapter 55