DBTS 15

~Chapter 15~

“Now, since we have a guest, I should serve something. Callen, could you bring us some tea?”

The princess asked softly, and Callen hurried off to the kitchen.

How was she supposed to brew tea again? Oh, whatever. She boiled water in a pot, threw in a handful of tea leaves, poured it into a teapot, and returned to the princess’s room.

As she poured the tea, Callen kept her eyes fixed on the commander.

Once she finished serving, she stepped back, while the commander casually glanced around the room. He didn’t seem the least bit aware that his subordinate was staring daggers at him.

“Do you like the room?”

The commander asked the princess.

“Yes! I couldn’t be happier. The furniture, the atmosphere, the food—everything is perfect.”

“Good.”

He replied briefly, then took a quiet sip of tea. The usually stern expression on his face relaxed a little.

In contrast, the princess’s expression tightened.

“Callen, the tea is… a bit bitter. You must’ve used too many leaves.”

“I’m sorry.”

Callen scratched the back of her head. Since becoming an adult, the only beverage she drank was alcohol. She’d never brewed tea before, let alone tasted it.

“It’d be better to brew it lighter next time.”

The commander said with a strangely gentle tone, even wearing a faint smile. Yet, that unfamiliar expression held an eerie undercurrent.

Callen gave a tiny shiver, dazed.

What the hell was that fake tone? He’s the type who’d explode if he eats something he doesn’t like! Since when did he learn to talk like that? Did he eat something wrong? Has his tongue gone numb?

Her mind was full of question marks as she stared in disbelief at this unfamiliar version of her superior.

“Callen, you may leave now.”

The princess said stiffly. Callen, breaking into a cold sweat, left the room.

Callen had been acting a little strange today. She kept a close eye on Anton, who had come to visit.

At first, Josephine thought maybe Callen had fallen for Anton’s handsome looks, but the gaze was too dry—like the desert.

So she deliberately sent her away. For some reason, it seemed Callen didn’t like her guest.

“Oh right, Anton. Are you attending the Third Prince’s birthday banquet too?”

Trying to shift the mood, she asked. It would be reassuring to have at least one familiar face at the event.

“…You’re going too?”

Anton looked surprised.

“Yeah. My younger sister was formally invited, and I’ll be attending as her lady-in-waiting.”

“So the Princess of Iote hopes to become the prince’s consort.”

“I don’t really know how my sister feels. If anyone wants it, it’s probably my father.”

Countries that marry into the imperial family gain many privileges: financial aid, increased military support, and—most importantly—a reduction in the annual tribute. It was essentially a tax break.

That, in turn, reduced the burden on the citizens. Beyond those practical benefits, there was symbolic value in welcoming an imperial prince as a son-in-law. It meant being related by blood to the Emperor, the most powerful man on the continent.

“I’m supposed to introduce Joanna to the Third Prince. That’s my duty at the banquet.”

“Duty? If she’s so precious, shouldn’t the King of Iote introduce her himself?”

Anton scoffed with a twist of his lips.

“…It’s a formal event, and protocol must be observed. Monarchs deal with monarchs; their children interact with each other.”

“Didn’t know it was that kind of stiff gathering. You told me the prince was dangerous and not to even talk to him. And now you want to introduce your sister to him?”

Anton shot her a pointed question. His sharp golden eyes seemed to pierce right through her.

“Of course… I don’t want that.”

The question hit a nerve, and Josephine burst out.

“Don’t call it matchmaking. That’s awful. They’ll just meet and exchange pleasantries. Honestly, I wish Joanna couldn’t even graze his sleeve…”

She trailed off, her voice choked.

A hot lump swelled in her chest. If she kept talking, she might start crying.

It’s all for national interest.

That was what her father had written in his recent letter. It was also what he’d said five years ago when he sent her here as a hostage. No matter how shabby she looked now, she represented her nation, and if the king gave an order, she had to obey. That sense of duty always rendered her powerless.

All she could hope was that Joanna didn’t want the prince as her groom.

Anton tilted his head slightly, watching her intently, like he could see inside her mind. Under his relentless gaze, she felt awkward and flustered.

“Oh, come to think of it, I have nothing to wear.”

She forced herself to change the subject.

Aside from her undergarments and everyday clothes, all her outfits had been left in the Ruby Palace. She did have a pale pink silk dress from when she was fifteen, but that had burned to ashes.

“Other than not having anything to wear, do you have anyone to escort you?”

Anton stood up as he asked.

“I’m not sure an escort is necessary for a hostage princess. But… are you leaving already?”

“Ask the hotel for whatever you need. Everything you lost in the fire will be compensated.”

And with that, Antonio left the room without another word.

Josephine decided she should go get a dress fitted while the thought was fresh. As she was preparing to go out, a stylish middle-aged woman entered her room. She introduced herself as the boutique tailor for the hotel.

“Good day, Princess. I heard your clothing was destroyed in the fire. May I take your measurements?”

Josephine stood still, bewildered, while the tailor measured her.

“Your eyes are a bright jade color. Let’s try something in light green—it’ll suit you perfectly.”

Josephine asked why the hotel was covering the cost of her lost wardrobe, but the tailor dodged the question with expert tact.

Later that evening, after she finished translating, another unexpected guest knocked on her door. This time, it was the owner of the hotel—Marquis Diego Fernandez.

“I’ll come pick you up in my carriage on the evening of the banquet.”

He delivered the sudden announcement without warning.

“Excuse me, Marquis? What do you mean?”

“I heard you needed an escort.”

“You mean… you’re planning to escort me at the banquet? Why?”

“Do you not want me to?”

“…It’s not like we have that kind of relationship. Did Anton ask you to do this?”

She asked, but the marquis only stared at her in quiet confusion.

Why does no one ever answer my questions?

“Then I’ll see you in front of the hotel that day. Have a pleasant evening.”

Josephine stared blankly at the door after the marquis left.

She didn’t know Anton and Marquis Fernandez were acquainted. Anton had only recently arrived from Saragot as a hostage—how could he already be connected to such a high-ranking noble?

The entire day had been full of mysteries.

“Sister!”

Joanna ran straight into the hotel lobby, spotted Josephine, and sprinted toward her.

They embraced tightly, reuniting after five long years.

Josephine awkwardly smiled and patted her sister on the back.

“You’ve grown a lot, Joanna. Have you been well?”

She pulled back gently and asked.

Joanna was now nearly the same height as Josephine. They had the same jade-colored eyes and light brown hair, but their vibes couldn’t have been more different.

With her high ponytail and upright posture, Joanna radiated energy and confidence. Wearing a uniform rather than a dress, her physique looked athletic and healthy.

“I’ve been busy helping Father with state affairs. You’ve become such a fine lady—so soft and lovely.”

“Stop it, you’re embarrassing me.”

The blatant compliment made Josephine blush.

When she first left home, she used to resent and envy Joanna. But now, all that bitterness seemed to have worn away. It was just nice to see her again. Years of being a hostage had softened her once sharp-edged jealousy.