“To the glory of the Marta Empire. I greet Your Highness, the Princess.”

“…You know who I am, I see.”

“Of course. You are the one and only Princess of the Marta Empire.”

Dorothée Lua Kartos, the half-sister of the current Crown Prince and known as the faceless princess, had to stay confined in the princess’s palace due to her purportedly frail health.

Though the royal family claimed it was due to her delicate health, it was no secret that the faceless princess was a neglected child.

Once, when the beloved empress of the Marta Empire became pregnant, all attention shifted to her. The unborn child, who would have been next in line for the throne after young Ivan, attracted many who sought to align with them.

However, before Dorothée could establish a strong support base, her mother passed away from postpartum fever.

Naturally, the Emperor’s favor returned to the Empress, and thus, Dorothée was left forgotten in the princess’s palace.

If noble families had shown support for Dorothée, things might have been different, but they all hesitated, wary of the Empress’s influence.

‘Even though the Empress herself was from a noble family without suspicion.’

Dorothée, wary and observant, seemed to be aware that Bialette was Ivan’s fiancée.

Even as a neglected princess, she would not have been oblivious to the rumors circulating in the palace.

In her past life, Dorothée only revealed herself to the world after Ivan became Emperor.

Bialette, too, did not know precisely what kind of person the princess was.
To seek revenge on him, Bialette planned to support Dorothé, regardless of whether she was inferior to Ivan in character. Dorothé was essential to Bialette’s plan, and it was time to pull her into her circle of influence.

After recent rains, the garden’s lawns were dotted with puddles, brimming with rainwater. Bialette deliberately stepped into one, soaking her dress as expected. Dorothé’s expression was priceless as she observed this, unmistakably catching on to Bialette’s intent.

“Are you alright, Lady?” Dorothé asked, loud enough for the surrounding maids to hear.

“Yes, it’s my fault for not watching where I was stepping.”

“It’s my fault too since it happened in my palace. Let’s go to the dressing room together.”

Despite her apparent distrust of Bialette, Dorothé led the way to her quarters.

Aware that they were in the palace, Dorothé likely devised this plan considering Ivan’s spies around. Ivan, concerned only with maintaining his position, would not have bothered about Bialette’s quarters, deemed inconsequential for surveillance.

“Please come in, Lady,” Dorothé said as they entered her palace, which had a notably modest and simple ambiance compared to Ivan’s.

As Bialette had guessed, the number of servants designated to the Princess’s Palace was remarkably few, with only one maid attending to Dorothé.

Before entering her dressing room, Dorothé glanced at Bialette and asked, “Will you be alright?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you might not find any dress I can offer to your liking.”

Dorothé’s consideration, though nonchalant, did not escape Bialette, who responded with a gentle smile.

“I am grateful for whatever dress Your Highness can lend me.”

Dorothé shook her head in incomprehension and then allowed a faint smile to cross her face.

“…You are a strange person, Lady.”