“Um, Your Highness the Princess. That…”

The maids, who seemed similar in age and work experience, each wore troubled expressions as they whispered something for a moment.

It seemed they were just discussing ‘whether it was okay to do so’, but Erdene deliberately put on a displeased expression.

“If you’ve started speaking, finish it.”

Among the maids who had momentarily closed their mouths with frightened expressions, one who looked relatively calm looked up at Erdene.

“Your Highness the Princess, these jeweled accessories all have meaning in each and every one, so they must all be attached. We cannot omit even one.”

Erdene glanced at the table with eyes that already seemed tired.

There appeared to be at least a dozen or so delicately crafted small accessories remaining.

Lowering the arms she had been holding out to both sides, Erdene moved her stiff neck back and forth.

“They all look similar to me.”

Then the maid who had bravely attempted to persuade her earlier spoke calmly once again.

“The opal chain attached to the chest symbolizes His Majesty’s gentleness, and the blue malachite on the wrist symbolizes wisdom. And also…”

When Erdene waved her hand, she immediately closed her lips and raised her head with a frightened expression.

“Enough, enough. I understand what you mean. It’s not like I have to wear them, so they could have just attached them to the ceremonial dress from the start. I don’t know why they’re making things so troublesome for people…”

The words that trailed off unfinished contained mockery implying ‘How nice it must be to live so comfortably as to deliberately include such cumbersome processes’, but it seemed no one noticed.

Or even if they had noticed, they kept their mouths shut wisely.

Erdene said,

“I understand, so continue.”

Those attending to her exchanged frightened glances once again and began attaching the accessories one by one.

For some reason, the pace seemed much slower than before.

‘At this rate, will we even finish before the sun sets?’

Erdene felt her patience disappearing moment by moment.

It wasn’t even the day of the ceremony, yet the movements were unnecessarily—by her standards—cautious and slow. She was about to lose her temper when—

“Your Highness the Princess, Marchioness Fiddlers and Viscountess Weekes request an audience with Your Highness the Princess.”

This is getting ridiculous. Letting out a short sigh, Erdene spoke without even turning her head.

“I grant permission. Bring them in.”

The short Viscountess Weekes hurriedly led the way, while Marchioness Fiddlers followed with a stiff and arrogant attitude.

It was as if she were coming to collect a debt, not to have an audience with a princess of another country who would become this country’s queen tomorrow.

‘And who is that?’

Erdene knew there were three people who had entered her field of vision without even turning her head.

Behind the Marchioness was another petite woman like Viscountess Weekes.

Judging by her hairstyle, youthful-looking face, and the clothes she wore, she seemed to be either the daughter or a relative of one of the two.

The maids who had been attaching accessories momentarily paused their actions to give abbreviated courtesies to them.

Marchioness Fiddlers, as if completely uninterested in their greetings, stared for a long time at Erdene dressed in Betor’s wedding attire.

Her prominent, upturned nose bridge twitched with displeasure.

“Your Majesty the Queen, Betor’s ceremonial attire suits you very well.”

Viscountess Weekes offered praise in a deliberately cheerful voice while giving a court curtsy.

“Don’t you think so, Marchioness?”

The Marchioness replied stiffly,

“The wedding is tomorrow, yet using the title ‘Your Majesty the Queen’ already goes against protocol, Viscountess.”

Before she had even finished speaking, Erdene let out an audible snort.

Was she originally stupid, or had she become stupid due to excessive stubbornness…

Whichever it was, the result was the same, but her foolish behavior that was hard to believe coming from a Marchioness now made Erdene feel more amused than angry.

“How long do you intend to keep me standing here? Finish attaching the accessories.”

At Erdene’s command, the innocent Viscountess Weekes flinched.

However, the ones Erdene had directed her order to were the maids who had stepped back.

The maids who had been hesitating in the cold and precarious atmosphere that seemed like something might happen, picked up the accessories again.

Only then did Erdene move just her bright blue eyes to look at them.

“I doubt you’ve come here to lecture me about Betor’s protocols, so what brings you here?”

The Marchioness twisted her lips with a displeased expression and glanced behind her.

“Sophia, come forward.”

Only then did Erdene turn her head to face the three people directly.

The young lady who had been standing behind the Marchioness glided forward.

As Erdene’s bright blue eyes moved searchingly, she spread her skirt and curtsied slightly.

Though her gaze was lowered, her delicate features conveyed a formidable stubbornness.

Marchioness Fiddlers said,

“This is my youngest daughter, Sophia.”

Erdene’s gaze briefly rested on the Marchioness.

“She doesn’t resemble you much.”

Whether because it was true, or to disregard Erdene, the Marchioness made no particular response and spoke to her daughter.

“What are you doing, Sophia? Greet Her Highness the Princess properly.”

As Sophia raised her head, her face became more visible. Her large eyes with slightly upturned corners were striking.

Her nose and lips were smaller compared to her eyes, but they didn’t seem disproportionate.

The slightly upturned bridge of her nose also gave her a cute impression, like a young child at the age of mischief.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Sophia Bischegelo Fiddlers.”

Erdene and Sophia’s gazes briefly met in the air.

“Your Majesty the Queen.”

When Sophia added in a meaningful tone, before Erdene could react, Marchioness Fiddlers interjected.

“Sophia was originally meant to be His Majesty the King’s consort.”

‘Well, look at this? Coming out with it openly, are we?’

Erdene raised the corner of her mouth askew, slightly lowered her chin, and widened her eyes.

“I see. And?”

Erdene stared intently at Sophia’s face, who was avoiding eye contact with her.

While her mother, the Marchioness, was so transparent, the daughter kept her gaze lowered and expressionless, making it difficult to discern her thoughts.

The Marchioness continued,

“She has received excellent education and, though she is my daughter, she is a flawless talented lady. Among all the youths from Betor’s distinguished families, there is none as witty and capable as this child. So, how about keeping her as Your Highness the Princess’s close lady-in-waiting? Wouldn’t you need at least one close attendant to oversee and manage the servants?”

“A close lady-in-waiting?”

The moment Erdene retorted as if clicking her tongue, Marchioness Fiddlers’s lips puckered deeply and contracted forcefully.

Erdene stared at her blankly for a moment with an expression of being at a loss for words, thinking,

‘What kind of pinched expression is that?’

Marchioness Fiddlers, as if trying to roll her pursed lips further inward, spoke with effort,

“…His Majesty has also approved this.”

Erdene’s expression instantly turned cold and furrowed.

Had Arkan been there, he would have known from the Marchioness’s pursed lips alone that she was lying or planning to, but Erdene had no way of knowing.

She stared blankly at Sophia’s expressionless face, still unable to discern her thoughts, and muttered inwardly,

‘So, this is how you’re going to play it? After lecturing me like that and not showing your face for a whole week, now you’re trying to assign someone to me without even asking my opinion?’

Erdene’s expression turned murderous. The face of Arkan, whom she hadn’t seen for a week, came to mind.

Erdene imagined punching the face of Arkan—who was smiling in a way he had never smiled before in his life—that was grinning insufferably.

Without that, it was difficult to contain her immediate anger and humiliation.

“Your Majesty, are you perhaps feeling chills?”

Arkan, who had been lost in thought with a book open on his lap, suddenly came to his senses at Platt’s words.

It felt as if his mind had become hazy, as if he had been dozing with his eyes open.

“Chills?”

“You shivered two or three times.”

“I did?”

Platt nodded as if to confirm and said,

“I’ll call for the palace physician.”

“No, it’s fine. Chills, you say? I don’t think I shivered at all.”

Arkan closed his eyes while leaning back in the comfortable, plush chair.

Though perhaps not chills as Platt had said, it was true that his entire body felt more languid than usual.

He found it difficult to concentrate even on his favorite book.

What could it be? Arkan fell into thought, tapping his brow with the inside of his fist.

He felt an uneasiness as if he had forgotten something important, and simultaneously, a feeling that some absurd event was waiting for him.

Something utterly preposterous.

‘For example, something like this. A feeling as if the ground might suddenly cave in while walking.

But such things usually don’t happen…’

Arkan’s brow furrowed slightly as he kept his eyes closed.

His thoughts began to wander aimlessly like a tangled skein of thread.

‘The ground caving in… Like a trap. Hmm, come to think of it, it reminds me of the old days. Was it when I was learning about the Hirschsten Empire as Crown Prince? About their method of annihilating enemy troops at once by digging traps…’

At that moment, Arkan’s eyes flew open.

He suddenly remembered what he had forgotten.