I chose fine-quality paper and carefully composed formal greetings before diving into the main topic.
In elegant and roundabout language, I wrote: “I fear I am about to be falsely accused by the Third Prince. Could you spread this information discreetly among the social circles? However, please ensure that neither the royal family, the Chancellor’s house, nor the Commander’s household learn of it until the grand banquet tomorrow evening. Should they hear of it, the absurdity of the Third Prince’s plan will likely cause them to dismiss it out of hand. Still, better safe than sorry.”
Both Annamaricia and Cerisean, who often criticized the Third Prince’s folly with youthful indignation, quickly sent their agreement. With their numerous attendants, the rumors would spread like wildfire and might not extinguish until everything was reduced to ashes.
To further divert attention, I instructed our servants to engage in strategic gossip: "Just between us, our young lady has been terribly mistreated by the Third Prince…”
The scandal, tied to the royal family’s disgrace, was bound to catch attention. And since it was the truth, the narrative would be difficult to quash. Whispers would spread irresponsibly throughout the city, exaggerated and dramatized, creating an uproar the royal family couldn’t ignore.
Managing and manipulating information was a skill particular to high-ranking nobles. The rumors the Third Prince spread about me being a “villainess” were child’s play compared to this calculated retaliation.
I summoned a merchant—a trustworthy older man whose reputation, as a contractor with our marquisate, was everything to him. When I ordered a unique item I remembered from my previous life, one often used in plays and pranks, he tilted his head in curiosity.
“This is quite unusual… but fascinating.”
When I handed him a fortune in gold coins, enough to fill both hands, he smiled polished and bright, promising, “It will be ready by tomorrow.”
As I busied myself, time passed swiftly. Dusk began to fall.
The western sky turned crimson, glowing with brilliant shades of red, as the setting sun illuminated the clouds in vibrant hues. I was momentarily captivated by its fleeting beauty, despite the urgency of the moment.
A bird’s distant cry echoed as it soared higher and farther away, vanishing among the waves of clouds. The last rays of sunlight gilded the earth in gold before darkness unfurled its wings and enveloped everything.
As night fell, my father escorted me to a soirée hosted by the King’s estranged younger brother, the Prince Regent.
The Regent’s estate was already bustling with guests, most of whom belonged to the anti-royalist faction seeking to expand their influence.
While the enemy of my enemy isn’t necessarily my friend, cultivating alliances is crucial and cannot be neglected.
“Well, Marquis, it’s been a while,” the Prince Regent greeted us warmly. My father and I bowed politely. Known for his calm demeanor and respected for his intellect, the Prince Regent was second only to the King in power.
“My recent travels to the Turner region uncovered a rare item I thought might please Your Highness,” my father said, offering a gift.
(It’s not a bribe—it’s a souvenir. A so-u-ve-nir.)
The Prince Regent, an avid collector of fossils and a scholar of archaeology, unwrapped the package eagerly. Inside was a stunning ammonite fossil that shimmered like opal, reflecting rainbow hues.
“How magnificent!” he exclaimed, his voice trembling with awe as he admired the fossil.
Satisfied, my father drew the Regent’s attention back with a subtle cough. The Prince Regent, understanding the signal, gave a nod and walked away, followed by the leaders of the anti-royalist faction.
Left alone, I felt many admiring gazes fall upon me. As one of the kingdom’s “Three Great Beauties,” I was used to such attention. However, my personal guard, ever vigilant, formed a protective barrier around me, preventing anyone from approaching.
I tilted my head and beckoned them closer.
My guards—men and women alike—had helped me countless times. Their leader, though secretly, was Ludovice himself, who always attended to the finest details. Tomorrow, my hair would be gone, but tonight, I wanted to thank them while I still could.
“It’s lonely without Father here. Won’t you stay and talk with me?”
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