TCPFDH 02

Episode 2 – The Fading Garden, the Night Gate

That day passed as calmly as always.

Bertina ate breakfast, cleaned, made medicine and tea from dried herbs, and packed a little. In the afternoon, she dozed with a book by the window. At sunset, she watered the plants in the garden.

…And when the sun finally set, she had dinner. She had just finished when a knocking sound came from the lower door of the tower.

They must have come to fetch her. Realizing this, Bertina removed her apron and quickly went down the stairs. The knocking continued again and again, making her frown. Annoyed, she clicked her tongue and turned the knob.

“G…good evening, Lady Bertina.”

In front of her stood a tall young woman in a servant’s apron dress. She looked just a little older than Bertina.

Her dull short ash-blond hair framed round hazel eyes. Her skin was pale, almost bluish. Still, freckles across her cheeks gave her a lively impression. Bertina stared straight at her and, without returning the greeting, said only:

“…What?”

“W-what, um… I came to escort you. Today is your birthday, Lady Bertina, and… that means, um… first, I will guide you to the bathhouse.”

Her words were clumsy, stumbling. Bertina narrowed her eyes and answered coldly, “I see.”

A newcomer, perhaps. Or someone unlucky, forced into this duty. Servants came sometimes with supplies or messages, but always a different one. And always, without fail, with the same fearful expression.

Bertina understood why. She was the “princess cursed by demons,” after all. They feared her.

But she was human. She had no power to punish them. What was there to fear? The endless trembling faces were tiring. She stared at this servant with weary eyes.

This one seemed especially nervous. Her breath was shallow, nearly hyperventilating. Even Bertina felt pity.

“Calm yourself. What is your name?”

“…H-Hanna,” the servant whispered, lips trembling.

“I see. Hanna. You don’t need to speak. Just nod or shake your head. I won’t return to this garden again. Is that correct?”

Hanna nodded again and again.

“My things are already packed. Nothing worth much. No need for anyone to carry it. I’ll walk to the gate myself. Go back. If you feel unwell, have someone else take your place.”

—Don’t collapse here. That would be troublesome.

With that, Hanna bowed and fled.

(Really now…)

Bertina sighed, returned to her room, and lifted her bag. Inside were only a few books and some dried herbs. Clothes would be prepared at her new home.

She glanced around one last time. Nothing more to take. Then her eyes fell on the old cane in the corner. Not hers—her foster grandmother’s.

It had been five years since she last heard its steady tapping across the floor. Stubborn though the old woman had been, she was the only true family Bertina had. She had raised her, after all.

Bertina ran her hand along the worn handle.

(Grandmother… Have I become the clever girl you wanted me to be?)

She lowered her eyelids, then raised them again.

“Then, I’m going. Thank you for everything, Grandmother.”

With a soft bow to the cane, she blew out the candle and left the tower.

At the iron gate entwined with climbing roses, several servants and a knight were waiting. When Bertina approached, the knight opened the gate with practiced politeness.

“We will go to the manor,” he said simply, extending his hand. A servant offered to carry her bag, but Bertina curled her lips.

“No need. I can walk. I can carry my own things.”

Her cold words made them exchange uneasy glances, but they obeyed.

This was her first time leaving the garden. Her first step into the outside world. Yet no joy stirred in her chest. Her face remained as expressionless as ever.

They soon arrived at a grand building, shining like a palace. Statues of gods lined the walls, and rich columns held up a wide porch.

Inside, she was shown to a corner room. The knight and male servants withdrew, leaving three maids. Hanna was among them, still pale though calmer now. The other two also looked sickly, avoiding her gaze.

“Lady Bertina, the bath…” Hanna murmured nervously.

Bertina nodded.

She was led to the bathhouse—but at once, the maids rushed to undress her. Bertina recoiled.

“What are you doing!”
“O-only to help you bathe—”

“Get out.”

Her sharp glare made them step back in fear.

“You know well enough I’ve never been treated like a princess. I can wash myself. Leave.”

They hesitated, but Bertina’s voice cut them down: “Out.”

Alone, she entered the bath.

The room was dazzling white. Golden vines coiled around the pillars. A huge tub overflowed with rose petals, their scent heavy in the air. Sweet, cloying, suffocating. She washed quickly, dipped briefly into the water, and left.

On the vanity, she found a note beside a dark glass bottle:

“Please use this oil to soften your skin. Once you have dressed in underclothes, call for us to help you with the gown.”

Bertina read it aloud without emotion. Then she looked at the gown: a black dress gleaming blue like wet crow feathers, embroidered with lace and scattered with amethyst. Beautiful, but it looked like mourning clothes.

(Very fitting… for a bride to the land of darkness.)

She opened the bottle. The smell of lavender, vanilla, and honey hit her like a blow. Overly sweet. Nauseating. She snapped it shut with a scowl.

(The royal family lives like this every day… drowning in perfumes and servants. How vile.)

She slipped into the underdress and called the maids. In no time they dressed her, arranged her hair, and painted her face. The mirror showed a striking beauty, almost unrecognizable. Her expression did not change.

“…Y-you look very beautiful,” Hanna stammered.

Bertina gave no reply.

Back in her room, servants laid out sweets and fruit juice. Sandwiches, cakes, cookies—all arranged with care. A servant bowed.

“Please rest. If you need anything, ring this bell.”

Then they left, and Bertina was alone again.

Finally, silence.

She read a book, nibbled at the cakes, and watched the clock. Nine o’clock passed. She read and drifted. At ten, the bell tolled.

Sleepiness came swiftly. The book slid from her hands, and Bertina closed her eyes, sinking into dreams.