Chapter 6
Why didn’t I think of that?
When I realized I had reincarnated 150 years into the future, I thought there was no need for past information anymore. After all, everyone who had once been by my side was probably buried in the ground by now.
That was a mistake in judgment.
Yes, everyone I knew had surely died in those 150 years. But a title bestowed upon someone doesn’t die with them.
The House of Marquis Lamian was far too powerful and wealthy to have collapsed in just 150 years. Because I had built it up to be that way.
So even if the people had changed and the times had moved on, the title would’ve remained—passed down through generations along with his bloodline. The title of Marchioness would have followed as well.
In other words, the person standing outside the door right now was the wife of Auguste de Lamian’s descendant.
I took a deep breath and stared hard at the door. My hands trembled more than when I had met the king earlier.
What kind of person would she be? How should I treat her? Should I consider her Auguste’s family—or see her as a complete stranger?
I couldn’t easily answer any of those questions.
One thing was certain: I wasn’t ready to face that name again.
For a brief moment, I organized my emotions and spoke.
“I’m not feeling well right now, so maybe another—”
Before I could finish, the door swung open with a loud bang.
A noblewoman dressed in an elaborate gown strode confidently into the room. As if this were her own bedroom, she showed neither courtesy nor restraint.
“I greet Your Highness, the Princess.”
The Marchioness of Lamian…? This woman?
I stared blankly at the noblewoman in front of me, who gave a perfunctory greeting. I was supposed to say something in return, but no suitable words came to mind.
“Marchioness…?”
“I’m glad Your Highness recognizes me. I heard you were suffering from memory loss, so I was worried you might not remember.”
There was a mocking tone hidden in her words. I smiled innocently, pretending not to notice, and asked a neutral question.
“Is there something you need?”
The Marchioness didn’t answer. Instead, like a governess scrutinizing a wayward student, she looked me up and down.
“How is your health?”
“I’m feeling much better.”
“That’s a relief.”
Without a hint of joy or concern, she delivered her business in a bored tone.
“I’m here to help you prepare for tonight’s banquet. Please be ready by seven.”
“Banquet?”
“The event that was scheduled for three days from now has been moved up to this evening. Since you’ve recovered, you’re expected to attend.”
Now that she mentioned it, I vaguely recalled a maid saying something about a banquet in a few days.
But thinking about it more closely, something felt off.
The current king had no queen, and his sister-in-law—who could act as hostess—was said to be away on an extended trip. That meant no woman of high enough status was around to suddenly push up the date of an official royal event.
“Why was it moved up so suddenly? Did something happen?”
“There were internal reasons within the palace that required the change. Nothing serious occurred, so you needn’t worry.”
Her attitude was clearly saying: It’s not your concern.
I barely held back a scoff. I tried to keep my expression in check, but I couldn’t stop my eyebrows from twitching.
That boldness, that certainty… Considering the influence of the Marquis’ family, she was probably the head maid of the palace—or at the very least, one of the ladies-in-waiting assigned to watch over the princess.
But the only women allowed to manage royal affairs were the queen, the king’s mistress, or, at most, female relatives of the royal family. A mere noblewoman couldn’t have the authority to change palace events.
“Is this His Majesty’s will?”
I deliberately kept my voice smooth but cold. For the first time, a crack appeared in the Marchioness’s mask-like expression. She stared straight at me and replied,
“His Majesty rarely concerns himself with the inner palace. This decision was made due to internal—”
“What kind of circumstances?”
“Well, it’s a bit difficult to explain in detail—”
“Difficult?”
Caught by my sharp tone, the Marchioness faltered. I didn’t give her time to recover—I pressed on quickly.
“Are you saying that something’s happening in the palace that even mere maids can know about—but the only legitimate daughter of His Majesty can’t be informed of?”
The Marchioness’s pupils quivered. She was clearly startled by my reaction.
“But Your Highness is still young…”
“I’m sixteen, Marchioness. I’ve debuted in society, and it wouldn’t be unusual for me to marry royalty from another country.”
And if we’re counting years lived, I’ve got more than you.
I recalled my past life, full of heated arguments in high society, and let the words spill from my mouth without a pause.
“If it’s too difficult for you to explain, then I’ll ask His Majesty whether this was a legitimate course of action. Even if I don’t know the exact inner palace circumstances, I’m sure His Majesty will make a proper judgment on whether the banquet should be moved up.”
“His Majesty has already agreed to the schedule change.”
“Agreed?”
I let out a dry, calculated chuckle.
“I think you’re mistaken, Marchioness Lamian. You’re not in a position to seek His Majesty’s agreement.”
I narrowed my eyes and spoke with a sharp edge.
“His Majesty is the master of this palace, and only he can decide to host a banquet. You should be prostrating yourself before him to beg for permission.”
The color drained from the Marchioness’s face.
I watched as her confidence withered like a plant kept from sunlight, and I made sure to deliver each word clearly.
“So, please be careful with your words from now on. If you speak so carelessly again during tonight’s banquet, His Majesty may not be so forgiving.”
It was a baseless threat. But if you have enough presence, even that can suppress someone.
“And lately… I haven’t been in the best mood.”
The Marchioness looked at me in confusion, then lowered her eyes.
“Are you not going to answer?”
When I sharpened my tone, she finally responded in a trembling voice.
“Y-yes… Your Highness.”
There was only one thing left for me to say to her.
“You may leave now.”
“But, Your Highness, the preparations for the banquet—”
“I can handle the preparations myself. I’ll take my condition and schedule into account. There’s nothing more for you to do.”
The Marchioness looked like she couldn’t accept the situation—her face had gone completely pale. That was a sure sign I had won this battle of nerves.
“Leave.”
She trembled silently, her shoulders shaking. I slammed in one last nail, tinged with fury.
“I said, leave.”
In the end, the Marchioness couldn’t say a word. She gave a stiff bow and retreated.
Only after she left did I finally let out a sigh.
I had tried to let it slide, but her blatant disregard made it impossible not to crush her.
The way Marchioness Lamian had treated me just now was exactly how the palace maids had treated me before I was named royal heir in my past life.
Even after all these years, I was still a disregarded princess.
I was born a royal, not a bastard. And yet my influence was still weak, and many still looked down on me.
Judging by how flustered the Marchioness became under this little pressure, it was likely that “Princess Estelle” had never once dared to speak up to the maids.
But I didn’t need to wonder why. I had been like that once, too.
At sixteen, I had been naive and meek. I agreed to whatever anyone said—whether it was my father or anyone else—and obeyed whatever orders I was given.
Neglect and scorn were normal. Timidity and obedience were just my nature.
Back then, I thought that if I just endured it, everyone would come to love me one day. That if I became queen, like my mother had dreamed, I would finally find happiness.
But it was a foolish hope. I did become queen—but the happiness never came. The love of my family and the trust of my dearest friend—everything was lost.
I looked down at my hands.
These hands now held all the advantages I’d lacked in my past life.
A legitimate birth. The status of being the king’s only child. The knowledge, skills, and experience etched into my bones from a life already lived.
Now that I’d been given another chance at life, the least I could do to honor the man who gave it to me was to use every advantage I had to change my fate.
I gripped my skirt tightly with hands unmarked by wrinkles or scars.
I won’t just sit still and take it anymore.
And I will never, ever become queen again.
