HTEVD 07

Chapter 07 …

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“There’s unusual movement in Barnaul. We’ve detected a large number of troops moving toward the border.”

At Duke Trapiche’s report, Henry II pressed a hand to his forehead. Hiverun was one of the most difficult northern regions to manage.

Although the Hiverun region—bordering the Republic of Barnaul—was bitterly cold and barren, its rugged mountain ranges served as a natural shield against invasion, making it a critical military stronghold that could never be abandoned. Moreover, the impoverished Hiverun subjects, who survived through hunting, had historically risen up in rebellion whenever the Empire fell into turmoil.

“We must send reinforcements.”

“Not yet. If we move too hastily, we may provoke Barnaul.”

“Your Majesty!”

Shouts echoed through the council chamber, but Henry II remained deep in thought.

In the Caledonia Empire, nobles are not permitted to maintain private armies. During Neonar’s reign, the Perrien Marquisate had been the only noble house allowed to do so, but since Perrien’s downfall, no such privilege remained.

Henry II could not be certain that reinforcements sent to Hiverun wouldn’t march on Toledo instead. After all, it had been Henry II himself—then a Grand Duke—who had built up forces in Hiverun while opposing Barnaul, only to march them later on the Imperial Capital. But if the Republic of Barnaul truly invaded Hiverun…

Lifting his hand slowly from his forehead, Henry II finally spoke.

“For now, continue to monitor the situation closely.”

The murmurs in the chamber gradually subsided. Raising one’s voice before the Emperor—such a scene would have been unimaginable during Neonar’s reign. The faces of those seated at the far end of the long council table were invisible from the throne, and many of them weren’t even “true” nobles.

‘Montrose and Granard, wasn’t it?’

Montrose hailed from the former Kingdom of Gaia, and Granard had originally been a wealthy merchant who purchased his title. Yet here they were, attending the Council of State.

“Your Majesty, it would be fitting to hold the engagement ceremony to coincide with His Highness the Crown Prince’s debutante.”

The Duke of Wales, seated closest to the throne, spoke in a gentle tone. Henry II had to tighten his lips to suppress a crooked smile. Every noble understood the significance of the Emperor’s private audience with Perrien’s daughter. Yet the Duke of Wales clearly intended to place someone else at the Crown Prince’s side, contrary to the Emperor’s will.

Christine Wales, the Duke’s only daughter, was famous for her stunning beauty. Although the Crown Prince had entanglements with numerous women, Christine was currently his official companion.

“The Crown Prince is still too young,” Henry II said mildly, stroking his beard as if unaware of the political undercurrents.

But Count Seymour spoke up, deliberately stirring the pot.

“There is already a lady of noble birth by His Highness’s side, is there not?”

“I don’t put much stock in children’s games,” Henry II replied with a hearty laugh.

The Duke of Wales smiled faintly, his expression unreadable.

“Even so, the Crown Princess must be of truly noble lineage, mustn’t she?”

An icy silence fell over the chamber. Everyone present knew exactly which “lady of noble lineage” Henry II was referring to. The Duke of Wales barely managed to maintain a pleasant smile.

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Vanessa poured tea with practiced grace. She looked no different from any ordinary maid, but the calluses on her hands as she set the cup down carefully were unmistakably those of a seasoned knight.

‘Something’s off.’

There was no reason to assign someone so highly skilled as a spy to a mere thirteen-year-old girl.

As I lifted the teacup, I flinched.

“Does it not suit your taste, my lady?”

“Mm… It’s too sour.”

I stared down at the teacup, where crimson petals floated, and shook my head.

“Sorry. I don’t want any more.”

It was hibiscus tea—the one I had loved the most in my previous life. I used to drink it every day because of its beautiful color and fragrance. It became fashionable after rumors spread that the Lady of the West Palace enjoyed it.

At a tea party when I was nineteen, I drank hibiscus tea… and died coughing up blood. The thought of blood rising in my throat at the scent I once loved made my chest ache with sudden melancholy.

‘A tea party… how dreadful.’

In this second life as well, not long after entering the palace, I was invited to the princess’s tea party. I had bowed low to the floor like a slave, and laughter had rained down from above my head. Everyone I had known in my previous life had bowed the same way when facing nobles. I hadn’t understood why I was being scorned.

One lady had said, “We cannot offer a seat to someone who doesn’t know proper etiquette.”

‘I couldn’t eat a single thing that day.’

I had stood behind the rows of beautiful noble ladies, shoulder to shoulder with the maids. If that had been all, I probably wouldn’t even remember the incident—it was all too common. But that particular tea party had been especially horrific.

“You stole my earrings!”

Christine Wales had screamed, trembling with rage. Her beautiful face twisted in anger, and I cowered all the more like a slave.

“It wasn’t me, my lady! I swear it wasn’t!”

“How unbelievable. A descendant of Perrien resorting to theft…”

“She grew up in an orphanage, didn’t she? How predictable.”

“Beggar habits die hard.”

The ladies hid their mouths behind fans while their tongues flayed me alive. When I was caught stealing apples or bread in the back alleys of Verdade, I had been beaten while being cursed in ways too filthy to repeat. And yet, the refined cruelty of the nobles’ words cut deeper. Perhaps it was because I had woken at dawn to bathe and carefully chosen clean clothes, desperate to look good for them.

“We’ll make sure to fix this wench’s nasty habits.”

A maid seized my wrist and shoved me into the lake. A spray of water blurred my vision.

I wasn’t particularly frightened. I had swum in fast streams to catch snails and dived into the filthy temple pond to collect coins.

But the moment I tried to slice through the water, pain flared in my calf. My body sank like a stone, as if weights were tied to my legs, and water rushed relentlessly into my nose and mouth. I vaguely remembered the glimpse of the nobles’ fine clothes fluttering in the distance.

‘…And I woke up three days later.’

They said I had suffered a high fever during that time. How I escaped the lake, what happened to the accusation, whether the earrings were ever found, what happened to that maid—all of it was buried and forgotten. From that day on, I could no longer swim.

It was the first time I had sensed death in the palace.

Of course, after successfully making my debut, I repaid that humiliation in full. Christine, as Crown Princess, had endless trouble with Gropius’s infidelities. And the one who kept feeding the Crown Prince’s flirtations by bringing beautiful women into the palace… was me.

The day I entered the ballroom holding the Crown Prince’s hand, Christine sought me out afterward. I had braced myself for a slap—but Christine had wept and begged instead. After that, tormenting her lost its appeal.

‘But I won’t let myself end up like a drowned rat again.’

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“These gloves look like they’d be uncomfortable.”

I alternated between looking at the delicate lace gloves and my own hands, then shook my head. Vanessa’s attempt to hide my rough hands and shield my weakness—I pretended not to notice and refused the gloves.

“Are you truly not going to wear any accessories at all?”

Another maid asked cautiously. I watched their exchanged glances through the mirror and nodded.

The young ladies invited to the tea party would no doubt arrive in dazzling dresses and jewels. If it weren’t for Lloyd’s words, I might have done the same. But I could not deny the truth seen so clearly by someone of exalted status.

“You can’t know what you haven’t learned. Your speech and manners aren’t those of a thirteen-year-old commoner.”

The illusion that nobles were born inherently intelligent, with refined speech and graceful movements. The misconception that noble culture was something transmitted through blood.

My current behavior was closer to my own fantasy of how a noble should be. They, too, had learned and stumbled through countless trials before perfecting their noble airs. If I seemed too perfect for someone newly elevated, the true nobles would only grow suspicious.

So today, I would show them the “Cinderella” whose status had been elevated in an unprecedented way in Imperial history. My practiced etiquette would satisfy their vanity about innate nobility, while my awkwardness would ease their vigilance.

‘Ruby too…’

Ruby, who had eaten the same food and grown up walking the same streets as I had—her life in the palace couldn’t have been much different from mine.