Quillian’s office gave the impression of winter no matter the season.
It reflected its owner’s temperament—calm and still. A low-saturation room.
The atmosphere alone was sharp enough to cut like a blade, and with Quillian present, it seemed even colder.
Today, the office was winter once again. Quillian’s lips were frozen in a rigid line.
Then, a quiet knock echoed.
“Your Majesty, it’s Emma Grey.”
“Come in.”
With permission granted, the heavy mahogany door opened, and Emma stepped inside. After offering a solemn greeting, she began to speak.
“I’m here to report on the princess’s condition this week. Though I suspect you’ve already heard the news.”
“I have. Are the rumors true?”
“For the most part, yes. The princess has calmed significantly and is actively participating in her lessons.”
One week. That brief time had thrown the entire palace into a stir due to the princess’s transformation.
The little devil of a princess had suddenly become an angel.
Emma continued slowly.
“She no longer throws tantrums, diligently attends her lessons, and follows instructions from both myself and the education officials.”
Most parents would rejoice at such news—that their once-mischievous child had finally matured.
But the darker Quillian’s expression grew, the more Emma reported.
“You don’t seem pleased.”
“…No.”
Ironically, Quillian had looked more joyful back when Seraphina was throwing irrational fits and demanding the impossible.
Emma wasn’t surprised. She seemed to have expected this response.
Quillian pressed a hand to his forehead and muttered.
“Could it be… because of the prophecy again?”
Seraphina hadn’t always been a troublemaker. No—until she was six, she was the complete opposite.
She was always watching others, acutely aware that people resented her, even as a child. And so, she lived in constant fear—always trying not to be hated.
Quillian bit his lip and fell silent, until Emma spoke again.
“Still, her change in demeanor may improve her public image within the palace.”
“Madam Grey. I never cared about that in the first place.”
Quillian’s crimson eyes sharpened. As if staring down an invisible enemy.
Those eyes were focused on the past.
“Lucia and I once believed that too. That if Seraphina behaved—grew up sweet and quiet—people would forget the prophecy. That they’d believe in her goodness.”
“…”
“I hate the man I was back then. I want to kill him. Because nothing changed.”
When his daughter was shrinking into herself, Quillian believed it would help her in the long run. So, he watched silently, painfully.
But that fragile hope was shattered not long after.
At Lucia’s funeral.
That day had simply been a picnic outing for the queen and the princess. That was all it was supposed to be.
But it ended in an assassination attempt—assassins sent to kill the prophesied princess.
Seraphina survived. But Lucia, who had tried to shield her daughter, died.
No matter how kind Seraphina tried to be, people insisted on viewing her as a villain. And they attacked her.
As long as the prophecy existed, her life would be one of thorns. Quillian knew that. He couldn’t remove the path of thorns ahead of his daughter.
If he couldn’t change her fate, he could only scatter flowers along the path—so it would hurt a little less.
And so, Quillian began giving her everything.
“I don’t want my daughter to grow up sweet. If the world insists on calling her a villain no matter what she does, she might as well live however she wants.”
He knew people criticized him from every direction.
They said he was spoiling her senseless, wasting money like fire, raising her like a tyrant.
But Quillian didn’t care. The world hated Seraphina regardless of what she did. So, he’d rather let her live as she pleased.
“I’ve said this before, Your Majesty—your methods are misguided. It’s not good for the princess, either. If this continues, her public perception will only worsen.”
“I don’t care. If the world hates her, then I’ll love her more.”
And those who hate her—he would simply eliminate. That was all.
Though he didn’t voice it aloud, Emma seemed to hear it anyway.
She spoke in a calm, steady voice.
“I don’t wish for only Your Majesty to love the princess. I wish for the world to love her too.”
Quillian, who had never wavered despite countless remonstrations, had a flicker of disturbance in his eyes.
Emma continued quietly.
“It’s good to stand by the princess. But indulging her too much will only poison her in the end.”
“…You keep telling me things I already know. That’s enough. You may go, Madam Grey.”
Emma bowed slightly and exited the office. Left alone, Quillian shut his eyes tightly.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought of what Emma had said. If only the world could love Seraphina.
But it seemed impossible. No matter how virtuous she became, the label of the prophecy would never disappear.
A sigh escaped his lips.
“Lucia… what would you have told me?”
If only his wife were still alive—perhaps he would’ve had more hope in the world.
As always, he missed her so desperately. But no answer came from the dead.
***
The royal library’s ceiling soared so high it seemed endless.
Every shelf was lined with countless books, and golden and silver engravings shimmered throughout.
The structure alone was beautiful, but the real value lay in the rare tomes within.
Given the vast number of books, I had a good chance of finding what I needed.
That’s why I decided to go to the library.
“Pardon?! The princess… to the library?”
At my suggestion, the maid beside me widened her eyes in shock.
What, am I not allowed there or something?
I nearly snapped, but managed to force a smile instead.
“Yes. I heard there are lots of fun books there. I’d like to go see.”
“Oh… Princess…”
Her eyes welled up with tears of emotion. The other maids nearby looked similarly moved.
I had no idea how many times I’d seen those faces in a single day.
Ignoring their reactions, I headed for the library.
Sure, I hadn’t studied properly before. But was this really that shocking?
Actually, this was nothing. Just yesterday, a scholar had practically declared me a genius.
Apparently, I was now solving all the exercises despite barely attending lessons before.
Good news, sure… but honestly, it was embarrassing. The assignments were basic—really basic.
Just how little effort did the old me put in, for people to react like this?
They praised me for the most ridiculous things.
[Your Highness, you brushed your teeth! Well done!]
[Your Highness, you ate onions and bell peppers today. Amazing!]
[Oh! Her Highness didn’t smash the room and even left everything in place!]
They were thrilled that I didn’t throw my spoon across the room.
Ridiculous as it was, it made me realize how unruly I used to be.
If placing my spoon down properly could earn me goodwill, well… I couldn’t complain. But I wasn’t exactly thrilled either.
And Father… he looked more worried than ever.
[Seraphina, is something wrong? You haven’t asked for anything lately… Do you still want that crown you mentioned before?]
[Yes! …Ah, no! I don’t want it anymore!]
Even without me asking, Father was doing his best to shower me with gifts. Every time, my heart would pound.
All those sparkling jewels, rare magical artifacts, beautiful dresses—I wanted them so badly my hands shook.
The Seed kept whispering in my ear.
That’s yours. Take it.
I was barely managing to refuse. But how long could I hold out?
If I lost control, my reputation would only plummet again. And Father… might truly become a tyrant.
“Your Highness, thank you so much for visiting the library!”
By then, I had arrived. The librarians stood in a line and bowed deeply.
They all looked truly touched that I was here.
I smiled brightly and returned their greeting.
“It’s nice to see you all. This is my first time here.”
“Oh, then shall we guide you?”
“No! I’d like to look around on my own today. Is that okay?”
They hesitated, but eventually agreed. They kept a slight distance, trailing behind.
They probably worried I’d throw a tantrum or something.
Whew, glad they backed off. I need to find some pretty shady books, after all. Best not to get caught.
I wandered the library, scanning the surroundings. Just reading the titles of the thousands—tens of thousands—of books made me feel exhausted.
I was looking for something about the Demon King. Anything. A single clue, maybe.
But there were just too many books. It wasn’t easy to narrow them down. Maybe I should’ve asked the librarians for help after all…
Just then, one title caught my eye: The Hidden Side of History.
It seemed like the kind of book that would contain some dark truths.
I stretched my hand out to grab it…
“…!”
But no matter how high I went on tiptoe, I couldn’t reach.
Right. I’m ten years old.
If I were in an adult’s body, I could’ve grabbed it easily. But in this tiny form, I couldn’t even touch the edge.
Still, I felt like I was so close…!
I kept stretching, wobbling—until a voice spoke behind me.
“Princess, what are you doing?”
It wasn’t an adult’s voice. It belonged to a boy, his voice just starting to crack.
I turned around—and there they were. Two boys, maybe fifteen. One of them had fiery red hair.
Ah, of course. It was them. Morgan and Philip—Uncle Theodore’s sons.
The twins who used to torment me so terribly.
