When they arrived at Saintbell Palace, Ophelia stepped down from the carriage, holding Veronica. The moment they stepped inside, Ophelia’s body stiffened instinctively.
An uneasy feeling crept up her spine. She carefully set the child down and took her hand, leading her inside.
“You’re here.”
A woman with platinum hair sat waiting, her grey eyes gleaming sharply, yet her expression remained a mask of gentle warmth, as always.
“…I greet Her Highness, the Crown Princess, the little sun of Quilche. May all glory be with Your Highness.”
Ophelia bent at the waist, using the bow to hide her expression. When she lifted her head again, she barely managed to raise the corners of her lips.
“Since when do you call me ‘Your Highness’? You usually call me Sister.”
“…Even if Your Highness allows informality, I shouldn’t become lax myself.”
Ophelia had to resist the urge to grab Cassandra by the throat.
“Veronica of Wilhelm greets the Cro— Crown Princess…”
Beside her, Veronica copied Ophelia’s greeting.
Just as she had been taught, she kept her gaze turned elsewhere.
“Hm?”
Cassandra lifted a brow, curious about the odd behavior.
“My little Veronica, you’ve grown taller since I last saw you.”
“…Y-yes.”
“Oh dear. I don’t see you for a little while and you’ve become shy? Your aunt has been longing for you, yet here you are, making her sad.”
Cassandra smiled faintly as she watched Veronica shrink back in fear.
King Alfonso knew exactly how Queen Agnes treated Ophelia, yet he never intervened.
When Ophelia was a child, she had been forced to walk around with a bowl balanced on her head.
Each time it slipped and fell, she was struck on the palms as punishment.
And every time it happened, Cassandra appeared.
She would take Ophelia into her arms, calm her down and apply ointment to her sore hands, apologizing on Queen Agnes’s behalf.
Ophelia trusted Cassandra completely.
“Lia, no matter what anyone says, you’re my sister. Don’t worry about what Mother says, all right?”
Ophelia trusted Cassandra more than anyone — the woman who had befriended her, called her ‘little sister’, and given her a fond nickname.
How foolish she had been!
Even now, fragments of conversations between Cassandra and Lady Margaret played over and over in her mind.
Masking her inner turmoil, Ophelia followed Cassandra’s gesture and took the offered seat.
Sitting face-to-face with Cassandra made Ophelia’s stomach churn, but she suppressed the feeling.
She helped Veronica into her chair and then sat beside her.
A maid stepped forward and placed two teacups and a slice of Veronica’s favorite dessert — soft sponge layered with raspberry jam and buttercream — on the table behind them.
‘What if she can’t resist eating it?’
There wouldn’t be a problem at the moment, but it was better for Veronica to learn caution from an early age.
She kept her eye on the child, worried that she might try to reach for the cake.
Suddenly, a sharp clap drew her attention to Cassandra, who had clapped her hands together.
“Come to think of it, the Founding Festival is already around the corner. Father seems quite eager to show off Veronica this year.”
The Founding Festival was a grand occasion, during which every member of the royal family appeared on the balcony of Belmont Palace. This was intended to demonstrate the strength and dignity of their bloodline.
Veronica delivered her speech with such poise and grace in her previous incarnation that King Alfonso — who had shown little interest in her until then — began to call for her frequently for the first time.
‘This time… I cannot let Veronica attract the king’s attention.’
Ophelia scanned the room. There were many attendants lingering nearby.
“…Your Highness. I actually have something urgent to tell you. Would you dismiss the others for a moment?”
Cassandra flicked her fingers lightly.
The maids bowed and withdrew at once.
“What could you possibly need to say?”
“Veronica may not be able to participate in this year’s Founding Festival.”
“And why not?”
“Actually…”
Clatter—
Veronica had just picked up her silver fork when she dropped it. Bending down as if searching for something, she pretended not to be able to find it, fiddling around on the floor.
“…Mommy, where’s my fork?”
Thank goodness—she was doing well.
“Recently… she had a high fever, and ever since, her vision has grown clouded… almost to the point she can’t see…”
Ophelia pulled Veronica closer, shielding her, and bit her lip.
Tears welled up and fell immediately.
“…So Veronica is quite unstable right now. I don’t think she can attend the ceremony.”
“Heavens. Wouldn’t it be best to summon the royal physician for an accurate diagnosis?”
If the royal physician came, they would discover she was only pretending.
‘How do I get through this…?’
Ophelia thought quickly, then shook her head in desperate fear, as if dreading the king’s disfavor.
“No—if the royal physician is called, His Majesty will hear of it, and worse, others will find out. Please, Your Highness… please keep this a secret…!”
“I thought something was strange. Veronica hasn’t made eye contact once since she arrived. She seems unusually quiet… I understand now.”
For a moment, Cassandra’s lips curled upwards into a soft, rounded smile.
Then, as if it had never happened, she replaced it with a sympathetic expression.
“I’ll speak to Father myself. Don’t worry. I won’t mention Veronica’s condition.”
“Thank you, Your Highness…”
The Founding Festival was drawing near.
‘…There will be a shooting this time as well.’
Cassandra drove commoners to work under brutal conditions during the hurried reconstruction of Marimond Cathedral.
Such impossible deadlines were bound to result in an accident, and when the ceiling collapsed, several workers were crushed to death.
One boy, devastated after losing his older brother, sought revenge.
He aimed a gun at Cassandra.
In Ophelia’s previous life, she had seen the weapon in his hands and pushed Cassandra out of the way.
Had she not acted, Cassandra would have lost her left arm.
But this time, she would wait for that boy.
This time, Cassandra would lose her left arm.
‘Since you killed my daughter, you should lose something too.’
Ophelia patted Veronica’s back, her expression calm.
“It’s about time to bring in a governess for Veronica, isn’t it?”
“…What?”
“How about Margaret Lyndell? She studied abroad in her youth, quite skilled in foreign languages.”
So today was the day.
The day Margaret was first introduced.
“…I know we can’t hide Veronica’s condition forever. I can’t let her play all the time.”
“Of course. And Veronica is the only royal heir, after all.”
“But for now… I want to let her be spoiled a little longer. I don’t want to push her into lessons yet…”
“Ophelia. I understand how you feel, but you must think of Veronica’s position.”
“Thank you so much for thinking of Veronica. Could we delay it just a little…? Just for later?”
Cassandra tapped her fingers lightly, thinking for a moment, then replied.
“Very well. Considering Veronica’s condition, it isn’t the best time anyway.”
Veronica, who had been quietly listening, let out a long yawn and closed her eyes.
“Hngh… Bebe is sleepy…”
Her small, whining voice made Cassandra let out a soft chuckle as she tilted her chin.
“Take Veronica home.”
“Then I shall take my leave, Your Highness.”
After stepping back to say goodbye, Ophelia lifted Veronica more securely into her arms and left.
The child had buried her face in Ophelia’s shoulder, but as soon as they got into the carriage, she opened her eyes wide.
“My love?”
“Mommy, Bebe did well, right?”
She wasn’t sleepy at all.
‘She really is clever.’
Ophelia almost imagined a wagging tail behind her—like a little puppy eager for praise. She was impossibly adorable.
“My baby, you did so well. You even held back when you wanted to eat the cake.”
“Mm… Bebe wanted it soooo much, but I didn’t eat it because I promised Mommy. And… um… I didn’t look at the Crown Princess, and I dropped the fork on purpose. And also, I pretended to be sleepy.”
Veronica spoke without pausing, folding her fingers one by one as she listed everything she had done.
Ophelia didn’t interrupt; she listened to every word, nodding gently.
Hearing her was enough to make her heart overflow.
***
When Ophelia stepped down from the carriage first and took Veronica’s hand, she found herself face-to-face with an elderly woman who was being helped by the head maid.
She resembled Rosalyn quite a bit.
Caroline Wilhelm.
‘Has she already returned from the villa?’
Although she was not related to Renoir by blood, she lived with them as the Dowager Marchioness of Wilhelm.
Veronica climbed down, holding Ophelia’s hand, and then hurriedly hid behind her, trembling.
She was terrified of Caroline.
“How on earth have you been raising her?”
“…”
“A child this slow, how can I not worry about the dignity of House Wilhelm?”
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oluwaseun_678
Hmmm why not let other people die? 😭
Will I get that she’s trying to nit bring too much attention to herself by randomly inserting herself into something she wasn’t involved in initially