Episode 2
Even while reading the novel, I had always felt strong resentment whenever Rotron hit Hestia. But seeing Beatrice now made me just as angry as if it had happened to me.
“It’s hard to fix this now, Your Highness,” the hairdresser said with an annoyed expression.
It was an obvious statement, but it wasn’t what I needed to hear.
“You’re the royal hairdresser, aren’t you? You’re not saying you can’t do it, right? That would be really disappointing. Or maybe it’s a good thing. Until now, I haven’t had the chance to see your real skills, but now you’re basically admitting you’re no good. That means I can finally find someone better than you.”
The hairdresser blushed but said nothing.
Then she continued with a huff.
“Then we’ll have to cut it really short, like a man’s haircut.”
“Do as you see fit.”
I turned to Beatrice, who gave a small nod in agreement.
It was a shame to cut off her thick, glossy hair, but she couldn’t keep walking around looking like this.
Besides, scarves didn’t suit Beatrice.
“Should I have asked her opinion first?”
Since I figured it would be better to explicitly ask, I turned to Beatrice.
“No, Your Highness. I’m fine with it. Thank you for your concern,” she replied.
The hairdresser seemed to be trying her best to preserve as much length as possible as she combed through Beatrice’s hair.
It didn’t seem to be out of sympathy for Beatrice, but more out of pride—wanting to prove her skills.
Still, it looked like there was no way around cutting it to a bob length, just touching her ears.
Rotron had hacked it off so crudely.
Beatrice’s hair made a soft snipping sound as it fell to the floor.
I picked up a handful and looked at it.
Beatrice glanced over, but the hairdresser quickly turned her head away.
From that moment on, Beatrice didn’t move a muscle.
“You have beautiful hair, Beatrice.”
“…Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Short hair will suit you too.”
“…”
Even so, it must have been painful for Beatrice to have her hair cut so suddenly, for such unwanted reasons.
“After you’re done with Beatrice’s hair, cut mine too. I like the lively look.”
The hairdresser looked at me in shock.
“W-what do you mean, Your Majesty? We can’t just cut your hair like that!”
“It’s just never been done before—not that there’s a rule against it. I’ll decide how to wear my own hair.”
“But Your Majesty… neither the King nor Duke Meydern would allow it.”
“Who said they get to decide?”
I gave her a look as if she were being ridiculous, then grabbed one of her scissors, took a section of my hair, and cut it off in one big snip.
The hairdresser went pale.
I hadn’t met the King yet, but I had no desire to win his favor, so I had no interest in keeping up appearances.
Honestly, I thought maybe looking odd might make getting a divorce easier.
“A-all right, Your Majesty. I’ll do it. Please don’t cut it anymore.”
The hairdresser rushed to stop me, as if she couldn’t predict what I might do next.
And so, I ended up with a bob that reached my shoulders, and Beatrice now had a short crop.
The hairdresser worried about what kind of punishment she might face after cutting my hair like that.
“Um… Your Majesty… would you be willing to say it was your order?”
She looked genuinely frightened, and since I had no intention of blaming her, I nodded.
“Yes. You can say that. Tell them I cut it first, so you had no choice.”
“R-really? Is that okay, Your Majesty?”
Seeing how scared she was made me realize just how terrifying the King and Duke Meydern must be in this place.
“Yes. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. Truly…”
All the rebelliousness she had shown when she first entered the room had completely vanished.
A little while later, another maid brought in refreshments and gasped when she saw my hair.
“Y-Your Majesty…!”
But when I showed no reaction, she looked embarrassed and quickly left.
“Come drink, Beatrice.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you.”
Even after sitting down, Beatrice looked nervous around me.
“I want to apologize first—for what my father did to your homeland, to you, and to those you loved.”
“….”
Beatrice looked startled, then bowed her head.
It wasn’t an easy thing to say.
Since it wasn’t just about her, it must’ve made it even harder.
I took a sip of tea.
“It’s not Your Majesty’s fault. But thank you for saying that.”
Beatrice spoke softly, her head still bowed.
“It may not mean much now, but… that haircut looks good on you, Beatrice.”
She looked up at me, her expression full of conflicting emotions.
“I don’t dislike you, Beatrice. I hope only good things come your way from now on.”
We weren’t going to clash, so we could just go our separate ways.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Now go about your duties. If anyone bothers you, just say I called you. You can come back here.”
“…Excuse me?”
“The people who work here aren’t exactly known for their kindness. Best not to expect much.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And if Duke Meydern ever raises a hand to you, run here. I won’t let him keep doing that.”
“Your Majesty… you’re not like what I heard at all.”
“You knew about me?”
“I’d heard things…”
Whatever she heard, I was sure they weren’t good.
There wasn’t a single moment in the novel where I’d thought Hestia had done well.
“I see. Then go now. If you stay too long, someone might use that against you. I’ll help you as much as I can, but I might not always be able to. So try to get along with others, too.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you.”
Beatrice tilted her head slightly, looking at me curiously.
She must have a habit of tilting her head like that. Every time she did, her mysterious charm seemed to radiate.
“You cut your hair… because of me, didn’t you?”
“I was just tired of it. Go on now. You might make enemies if you linger.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Once Beatrice left, I decided to start thinking about how to get out of here.
Since the King didn’t care for Hestia, I probably wouldn’t have to worry too much.
If I asked for a divorce, he’d likely agree immediately.
‘But how should I bring it up?’
I couldn’t just blurt out, “Your Majesty, I want a divorce.”
If he hadn’t fallen for Beatrice yet, he might not be ready to end the marriage.
Still, if I persuaded him properly, I could get the divorce, take the money I had stashed away, and run off to live in luxury.
But just then, I was told Duke Meydern had come, and my mood instantly soured.
Even if I couldn’t avoid the King, I had made it clear I didn’t want to meet anyone else. Yet the head maid had brought him in.
When the door opened, Rotron entered with the head maid by his side. I glared at her, and she glared right back.
“I told you, Your Highness. The Duke insisted on coming in, so I couldn’t stop him.”
She said this just loud enough for Rotron to hear, making it clear I had ordered not to let him in.
Rotron sneered when he realized what I had done.
“Leave us,” he said to the head maid, who left at once.
“Leave the door open,” I said.
But she shut the door anyway, smirking as if to say, Let’s see you deal with him now.
Rotron seemed angry that I hadn’t allowed him in earlier, but when he saw my new haircut, his anger turned to surprise.
“Hestia! What is this? What kind of foolish nonsense have you done?!”
Even if I was his daughter, I was now the Queen of a kingdom. He had no right to call me by name and speak down to me.
But Rotron had always referred to Hestia by name to keep her under his control.
The only times he used honorifics were when the King or others were present. In front of servants, he would freely speak down to her, encouraging others to treat her with the same disrespect.
“Duke Meydern. I am currently performing my official duties. You are to address me not as your daughter, but as the Queen. Use proper titles and formal speech!”
While reading the novel, I had always wondered why Hestia never once stood up to Rotron. Now, even though I was saying the right thing, my whole body was trembling.
Rotron held immense power—enough to rival the King himself.
He sneered at my words, clearly amused.
