Arriving at the palace gates, I accepted my father’s hand as he helped me step down. Before me stood a massive staircase, flanked by ceremonial guards in immaculate uniforms.
The sight made my skin prickle with nervous anticipation. Taking a deep breath to steel my resolve, I bit down gently on my lip, set my determination, and let my father escort me up the grand steps.
As we entered the opulent hall, the Third Prince, with the Baron’s daughter on his arm, stormed toward us.
—It’s beginning.
Without a word, my father distanced himself, heading off to summon the King.
“Sherilia! I’m breaking off our engagement! You are unworthy of someone as noble as me!”
The Third Prince’s sudden declaration left everyone in the hall stunned. Meanwhile, the Prince himself, basking in the attention his loud voice garnered, wore an expression of smug self-satisfaction as if thinking, Look how amazing I am!
“You disobeyed me by dancing last night! And you’ve tormented my beloved, ruining her dress and even pushing her down the stairs! You’ve done whatever you pleased, so now you will be punished!”
From behind him, the Commander’s son sprang forward, roughly pinning me to the floor. The Chancellor’s son, with equal arrogance, unraveled my intricately styled hair and began cutting it with crude, jagged motions.
“AAAAAHHHHH!!”
The screams of women echoed throughout the hall. In this kingdom, a woman’s hair was considered her lifeblood. Some of the women fainted from the shock.
“What is the meaning of this?!”
Right on cue, the King, Queen, Prince Regent, and my father arrived. Perfect timing, Father. Bravo.
The Commander and Chancellor turned pale as they saw their sons—one pinning me down, the other gripping my severed hair.
The King himself froze at the sight of my scattered black locks and the glittering hair ornaments strewn around me.
Now is the time to cry! my entire being screamed.
“Father…”
I let my shoulders tremble. Tears welled up behind my lashes and spilled down my cheeks in shimmering trails.
“Father…”
Clutching the cut strands of my hair and the hair ornaments to my chest, I let out a soft, pitiful cry, gazing weakly at my father with an expression designed to evoke maximum protectiveness—a skill honed through practice.
In the novel, Sherilia had borne this moment with dignity befitting the daughter of a marquis. But that was a mistake. Her silent endurance had led to her being forced to marry the Third Prince. In this moment, despair must not be suppressed.
“It’s Sherilia’s fault! She bullied my beloved! That’s why I broke off our engagement and punished her—I’m in the right!”
The Third Prince shouted, but my father calmly pulled a stack of documents from his breast pocket.
“The accusations against Sherilia are fabricated. Here is the evidence to prove her innocence, as well as testimonies ready to be presented if needed. Additionally, I have documentation of the Third Prince’s verbal abuse toward my daughter, along with evidence of his infidelity,” he said, handing the papers to the King with a gaze as cold and unforgiving as a winter desert.
“Your Majesty, our family has long requested to annul the engagement with the Third Prince. Since the Prince himself has declared the engagement void, I humbly request your approval to dissolve it.”
“Ah… no. The Third Prince should instead take responsibility by marrying Sherilia,” the King suggested, as if he had come up with a brilliant plan.
The nobles in the hall instantly turned their icy gazes on the King, their disapproval palpable.
“Your Majesty,” my father replied icily, “are you suggesting my daughter live a fate worse than death? That she should be wed to the very man who has insulted her, humiliated her, and cut the hair she has cherished for over a decade? Do you truly believe she would find joy in such a marriage?”
The Prince Regent stepped in to support my father.
“Brother, such a marriage would not even qualify as restitution. Look at Lady Sherilia—trembling and crying in fear. Forcing her to marry someone she dreads would only bring her unhappiness.”
The ministers added their voices in unison: “We respectfully agree with the Prince Regent.”
The oppressive silence of the noble audience bore down on the King, who slumped in defeat.
“…Very well. The engagement is annulled…”
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