Chapter 29

The area in the grand ballroom was spacious. The king walked nobly to his throne. When he lightly raised his hand, the maestro flicked his baton and a dramatic melody began.

He gave an elegant speech in Moniten, then the king greeted the foreign visitors in Cruz fluently. Everyone present was well versed in several languages, but the king was taking special courtesy towards those who had come from the Cruz nations. His speech’s purpose was simple. He welcomed the visitors to Monterobis, he thanked the Monvixo for blessing them with a plentiful harvest, and he requested the nobility’s artists to shine their presence on stage. He wished for everyone to enjoy Theheras. He ended his speech with those last words and commenced the celebrations.

“Let’s enjoy Theheras. In honor of Monvixo.”

Everyone inside the grand ballroom had the grace of threaded gold. The well-dressed men and women put on a slight smile as they raised their glasses. The wine that filled their glasses caught the light and looked more transparent. They all drank a sip of the bittersweet, aromatic wine.

Ashite also took a sip of the wine. Sweet energy was left on the edge of her tongue. It was spectacular and tastier than that of Terre Sunds. Everywhere her eyes went, it looked beautiful and glittered with the care that was put into it.

A yellow-white light shined down from the chandelier. A long dragon was drawn on all of the walls, and at its end, it was studded with gems. There were extravagant art pieces that no commoner would have ever seen before: women holding flowers, winged fairies, sculptures of dragons. On one side of the wall where a tapestry hung, a group of artists, dancers, and poets stood together. As if singing together, their conversation flowed through the air.

Ashite blinked rapidly trying to capture all the light around her.

A golden light fell continuously from the ceiling and ruby curtains hung over the balcony glittered red as the light bounced off of them. The white tiled floors sparkled as if studded with diamonds. In front of her, she could see red dresses, black dresses, emerald dresses all glittering flamboyantly. In between the colorful gowns were men dressed in dark black and purple. Such an array of different colors mixed together so beautifully.

Outside the window, a faint sunset was falling upon them. It would be dark soon.

Ashite leaned against one side of the wall as she received Yeref’s courtesy. She looked around her surroundings relaxed. There were a few people that she recognized. Soon, her eyes caught sight of a decorative accessory she was familiar with. It was a detailed rendition of a noble white eagle. And her eyes met with the two women who were wearing them.

Hanuem. It was a headdress among Skara’s nobility to mark their high ranks. Women would wear a headband with a veil attached and the men would wear a cravat around their neck. Each family had their respective colors and emblems. The two women were wearing the emblem of Skara’s royal family: a blue-eyed eagle against a gold background.

Ashite did not currently own a Hanuem of her own. She had not gone to many public Skara events and only wore the temporary Hanuem from time to time. She must have at least worn that. When she was leaving Lotte Beshel, Ashite packed her bags alone. She didn’t pack her temporary Hanuem. Not only that, but she didn’t take the sleek dress or the cloak that was part of their traditional wear. For a princess that was going away to a faraway foreign land, her belongings were sparse. And even though she realized that, she kept it that way. She really didn’t need it. She believed it then, and now she had already grown accustomed to the off the shoulder dress of Monterobis. At first, the thin dress felt uncomfortable and she was reluctant to wear it, but now, it seemed to fit quite nicely with her. She also realized that it sometimes made her look even more lovely than before.

And this was how people changed from the smallest of triggers.

Ashite never once regretted not bringing her temporary Hanuem.

A delicate veil flowed down the woman’s back. Hanuem’s main trait was the woman’s silk-like hair flowing under the veil. Used to seeing the curly hair of the woman, Ashite inhaled deeply.

It was an expected situation. The time for Theharas was near. The veil fluttered as she unraveled her light purple hair and curved her lips into a pretty smile.

She wore a sleek dress and moved taking small steps. The woman on her right came first. Under the banquet lights, her shiny, silk-like hair swayed under the veil slightly. Their eyes, which looked to be studded in gold, had always made Ashite feel a bit uncomfortable. With an elegant face and a voice full of sophistication, they would dig into her insides with their haughty glares. As they were doing to her now, they did to her back then, too.

“Oh, Ashite-Ploca.”

“It has been a long time, Ashite-Ploca. How have you been?”

The three women greeted each other casually. Ashite, being the youngest, bowed to them. Without even sparing a wave in her direction, the woman continued to talk. They smiled nicely but Ashite knew there was a reason for repeating her entire name.

They were bringing up the fact that Ploca had a free spirit mother.

They hid their resentment of her behind their lovely smiles. She knew this all too well. Ever since she could remember, from the first time they met, they had scorned her and her mother. In Skara, she only had one option: to respond to their actions by hiding behind her white mask. But at this moment, she opened her mouth.

Ashite brought up the memory of one person. It was so sudden that she herself thought that it was strange.

It was a very strange situation.

She smiled cockily and realized how easy it came to maintain her decorum. She had done the same during her mother’s funeral. The king, the queen, and her other acquaintances did not make any effort to console her. The nobility was the same as well. Of course, she had never expected any such warm words from any of them.

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The first and second sister had said these words to her then. She knew that their words were empty. She would have been lying if she said she didn’t feel negative emotions against them. But she couldn’t do anything about it. It was the same during her coming of age ceremony.

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Such hollow words. She wanted to shout those words to them but she held them back. Thank you, sisters. That was the only thing she could say to them. When she left for Monterobis, it was again the same.

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Even knowing those words were hollow and lies, she wanted to know if they really wanted her to stay well. If that had been their truth, then why was she forced to live this way? Why was she being sold away to another land? Those questions danced at the tip of her tongue but she did not spit those words out.

She had lived like this for so long that she had long become accustomed to it. All she could do was smile, speak nicely, and thank them with her head lowered. As if she didn’t know how to fight back or call them out on their hypocrisy, she always remained humble. That’s all she could do.

But this person.

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He told her that his mother was part of the Han clan.

Her mother was also a concubine. She was happy her mother was a free spirit, had learned her life’s dance, and every moment she had spent with her mother was engraved in her entire being like a breath of air. There was no possible way to forget her mother who was the root of her existence.

Even so, the reason she had lived at Lotte Bishel quietly was to maintain peace. So she acted in such a way that no one would bother her. She lead a peaceful life, so she had to protect her happiness and dance. So that was how Ashite decided to be in Skara. Through those actions, she was able to find some rest and had the ability to remain calm through their elegant smirks.

But now, Ashite thought differently.

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She had made this decision not too long ago, but it brought about a huge consequence. Her emotions welled and swayed like a flowing stream.

The place she had come to such a conclusion was Monterobis. Not Skara. It was a definitive change.

And this country’s king.

He guaranteed her livelihood. But still, it didn’t change the fact that she was sold to this land from her own. However much she denied it, it didn’t change the fact that she was a princess of Skara. The fact that he was Monterobis’s king did not change either. Their fates, statuses, and situations were different, but this person…

He had also been ridiculed and scorned for the fact that he had been the son of a woman from the Han clan. Of course, he did not just let himself get stepped over by those who mocked him. He sharpened his sword in the hope of revenge and after resisting for a long time, ended up gaining the position of king. He had gained the most privileged position through his efforts. He was a person who shined with an aura of sophistication.

Even without wearing a mask.

Had he ever hidden his true identity? He probably never had to. He had never sought to kill his identity either.

He was different from her. As different as night and day. She knew that well, except for one thing.

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Those words were clear in her memory. His emotionless tone, his cool expression that expressed a truth that wasn’t masked with lies. He felt no shame towards it and was confident. There was no hint of embarrassment, and he neither hid nor removed himself from his true identity.

<<…Your majesty.>>

From the top of her, a coldness fell upon her. It traveled to the ends of her feet. She came to a pivotal realization.

There was no reason she could not do this also.

From that small epiphany, Ashite had the urge to laugh out loud with her shoulders bouncing, holding her stomach, laughing as much as she wanted. To all those who had sneered and looked down at her and her mother, she wanted to show them her euphoric laughter.

What was holding her back from doing so? <>