Chapter 7
Though I acted harshly toward the Marchioness of Lamian, the moment she left, I immediately called in the maids to begin preparations for the banquet.
Royal banquets were an excellent opportunity to gather contemporary information. Honestly, even if the Marchioness had told me not to come, I still would’ve attended with my head held high.
Judging by the lack of any disturbances following our argument earlier in the day, it seemed the King had, in fact, agreed to change the banquet schedule.
The maids, surprised by my enthusiasm, did their best to wash, groom, and adorn me.
Just as my makeup was nearly finished, a young maid brought in a dress.
“Your Highness, this is the gown you’ll be wearing today.”
I stared quietly at the dress she presented. My eyes scanned it from top to bottom, then again side to side, before I furrowed my brows.
“Do I really have to wear that?”
“Of course! The designer made it especially for tonight’s ball. Why? Don’t you like the color?”
“It’s not the color, exactly…”
If I were being honest, I didn’t like anything about it.
In my previous life, I’d worn elegant formal wear in muted colors, adorned with elaborate jewels and thick capes. But the dress the maid showed me now looked like something meant for a child.
It was a pale yellow, with large ribbons dangling from the bodice, and the skirt had so many pleats it resembled a curtain.
There were no voluminous sleeves, nor the large white lace collars that wrapped around the neck. Even worse, the neckline plunged so low I flushed just looking at it.
How could I maintain royal dignity in this?
I considered refusing to wear it like I had before—but then changed my mind.
Now wasn’t the time to stir trouble. I needed to quietly gather information. And for that, whether I liked it or not, I had to adapt to the trends of this era and blend in naturally.
I stared hard at the new gown, trying to mentally prepare myself. Just then, something loud and hideous filled my vision.
“Which wig would Your Highness like to wear?”
Startled, I turned to see the maid holding up a wig. It was the same color as my natural hair but styled in an absurdly tall updo, heavily adorned with artificial flowers, jewels, and tiny ornaments.
You want me to put that on my head?
I quickly stopped the maid rummaging through the wigs.
“No, no! I’ll just go out like this.”
“Like this? Without even tying it back?”
“Yes. I think letting it fall naturally would look better.”
The maids widened their eyes, but I waved them off frantically. No matter how fashionable it was, I refused to wear such a ridiculous wig.
I pushed aside the wigs they laid out in a row. My refusal was so firm that they finally gave up and simply brushed my hair neatly.
“When does the banquet start?”
“There’s still a bit of time left. Please rest until then. I’ll send in the girls to help you dress when it’s time.”
The maids bowed politely and withdrew.
I sat on the bed and stared at the dress I’d be forced to wear, feeling nothing but dissatisfaction.
Just then, I noticed another dress by the head of the bed.
The fabric was cheap, and it had no decorations. It wasn’t old, but it was far too plain for a princess. Likely, the maids had brought it as a spare and forgotten it.
Without much thought, I picked up the plain dress—and suddenly, a brilliant idea struck me.
“Excuse me, Your Highness. I left something behind.”
Just as I heard the young maid’s voice from outside, I quickly shoved the dress under the blanket.
She entered the room moments later, searching for something.
“Hm? What did you forget?”
Feigning confusion, I tilted my head. The maid glanced nervously toward the spot where the original dress had been placed.
“I left a dress here… You didn’t happen to see it, did you?”
“No, I didn’t.”
I plopped down firmly on top of the blanket where I’d hidden the dress, ensuring she wouldn’t find it.
The poor maid searched the room for a long time—opening drawers, rifling through cabinets. She even asked my permission to check under the pillows.
But I remained perfectly still the entire time.
“My apologies.”
Finally, she left the room, her face pale.
As soon as she was gone, I threw off the luxurious silk gown and changed into the drab, modest one I’d hidden under the blanket.
✦
The banquet hall was bustling from early evening.
It was a grand ball attended not only by nobles from the capital but also high-ranking aristocrats from the provinces, along with their attendants. The entire guest list buzzed with excitement.
I hid behind a pillar and observed the arriving nobles.
The noblewomen were dressed similarly to how the maids had tried to dress me.
Sheer fabrics flowed like curtains, adorned with ribbons and lace across the chest. Rather than jewelry, their dresses sparkled with delicate embroidery and elegant artificial flowers. Their hair was tied up high and crowned with wigs decorated with flowers and feathers.
Seeing it all together, it didn’t look so strange. Compared to the overly extravagant attire of my past life, it actually had a lively yet graceful charm.
…Aside from the scandalously plunging necklines.
Suppressing my embarrassment, I carefully took in the atmosphere.
“Oh my, Countess! Fancy seeing you here again!”
Several noble ladies cried out in delight as they recognized one another. I hid completely behind the pillar, listening in on their conversation.
Even after 150 years, the topics women discussed hadn’t changed much—mostly capital trends, children, their latest shopping, and bragging about the husbands who paid for it all.
I listened without much interest—until something caught my attention after a while.
“Come to think of it, is the Princess attending tonight’s banquet?”
One girl asked curiously, and I instinctively perked up.
“I think so. A relative of mine who works as a palace maid said she would be.”
“That’s surprising. I thought she wouldn’t come after nearly dying from illness and barely recovering.”
A noblewoman clicked her fan shut, frowning—not looking happy at all.
“His Majesty still grants her every wish, doesn’t he?”
“Of course. When she fell ill, he dismissed all her tutors. I bet he’ll have the first dance with her tonight, too.”
“Oh dear! All the ladies waiting eagerly for that honor will be quite disappointed.”
Someone laughed before abruptly changing the subject.
“The Princess resembles that foreign woman far too much.”
At the mention of a “foreigner,” I recalled what I’d heard a few days ago.
The late Princess Estelle’s mother—Queen Therese—was a princess from the Kingdom of Araz, a complete foreigner to Ellendril.
Ellendril and Araz had a long-standing hostile relationship.
In both past and present, whenever someone from a hostile foreign land became queen, the nobles would feign loyalty outwardly while mocking and slandering her behind the scenes as “that foreign woman.”
“That Araz wench completely ensnared His Majesty.”
“That’s what I’m saying. She was unbearable while alive, and now even in death, she won’t let go of him.”
“Ever since her death, His Majesty hasn’t taken another queen or even a mistress. What on earth did she do to him?”
It didn’t take me long to understand what they really meant.
In the Kingdom of Ellendril, the King was a semi-divine figure. No one dared criticize him directly. So when people wanted to complain about the King, they attacked those around him instead.
Men criticized his close advisors; women, his mistresses.
They envied those women who lived lavishly in the palace and blamed them whenever the King did something they didn’t like, saying, “It’s that wretched woman whispering in his ear.”
If the King had no mistress, then the Queen became the target. And since Queen Therese was from hated Araz and already dead, no one held back. Their words were vicious.
I’d once wondered how the people had ever accepted a queen from Araz. As expected—they hadn’t. They were just waiting for her to die so they could talk freely.
“The Princess looks more like her mother than His Majesty, doesn’t she?”
“Not just looks—she’s practically a copy of the late queen.”
“Oh my, is that why His Majesty is so protective of her?”
The noble girls burst into loud laughter. Then the fan-wielding lady gave a sly smile and said,
“Maybe that foreign woman had a secret lover we didn’t know about.”
I stiffened and peeked past the pillar to see her. Her companions eagerly chimed in.
“That would explain it. Even with strong maternal genes, it’s rare for someone to look that little like their father.”
I couldn’t even force a chuckle or listen with interest this time.
I’d heard this kind of thing before.
After my mother was dethroned in my previous life, my father spread rumors questioning her virtue to justify installing a new queen.
“She bore a child, yet was cast out. Why? Could it be…?”
“They say she drank daily and chased after men.”
“The Princess doesn’t look like His Majesty at all.”
“They say she had over five lovers before the wedding…”
People pitied the dethroned queen—but also loved gossiping about her. My poor mother became the target of endless vile rumors, and that naturally led to doubts about my birth.
Even after I reclaimed my succession rights, the suspicions never ceased.
“Is she really the King’s blood?”
“She’s just a bastard—how shameless to return to court.”
“Who knows what kind of life she lived out there?”
Scandal and slander followed me like a shadow. Once I was named heir to the throne, those whispers grew sharper.
“Seriously, a woman as ruler?”
“Is she even still a virgin?”
So I had to live quietly. Straighter. More politely. Leaving not even a single crack for reproach. I stepped carefully, as if walking on thin ice, every moment of my life.
Those disgusting memories flooded back, the past merging with the present whispers behind the pillar.
“The women of Araz are vulgar and unrefined. I worry the Princess will turn out just like them.”
“Of course! Even if it’s just half, that crass foreign blood won’t disappear.”
“Maybe even her father’s side has Araz blood.”
I drew a slow breath.
It’s fine. I’m used to this kind of gossip.
This time, I don’t plan to become Queen. I might even face worse rumors than these.
So it’s okay. I can endure it.
“They say that Araz woman insisted on educating her daughter personally. If she had lived longer, who knows—maybe the Princess wouldn’t even be a virgin now… Honestly, it’s a blessing she died early.”
…
Wait. Why should I endure it?
This life is different from my last. My goal is not to become Queen. I don’t have to fear public opinion or worry about what the nobles think.
There’s no reason to endure. In fact, not enduring would benefit me more.
As soon as that thought was complete, I stepped out from behind the pillar and strode straight toward the noblewomen.
