Hilda finished telling yet another story Annabella already knew by heart — all about her mother — then patted the top of the blanket and declared that she really must sleep now.

But Annabella could not sleep. If anything, her heart only pounded harder as her mind fixed itself on a single possibility.

Though many years had passed since then, those who had once wanted to take her away might still feel the same. And if she revealed the truth — the Duke’s conduct unbecoming of a father, the reality of what Miranda truly was — perhaps she would never have to return to this place again.

‘I want to try anything.’

She never wanted to lose a child so senselessly or die so miserably ever again. To prevent that, she had to try every means available to her.

Annabella pressed her hand firmly to her chest, where her heart was hammering away with dread and impatience, with hope and a breathless, trembling anticipation.

The Kingdom of Elaise. Its king and queen were, for now, the only hope Annabella had — the one slender thread of light left to her.

***

The following day.

The entire family gathered for the evening dinner. It was a rare occasion; Annabella usually found Miranda too disagreeable to sit through a meal with.

“Sister, the dress you’re wearing today is simply beautiful. The color is just stunning.”

Even today, Delilah worked her serpent’s tongue with practiced ease.

“Do you like it? Then take it — it’s yours.”

“Really? You truly don’t mind?”

“Of course not. What’s mine is practically yours anyway. That’s what being sisters means.”

Annabella’s gaze was ice, but Delilah, her thoughts already consumed by want, didn’t notice.

“Seeing the two of you get along so well truly warms my heart.”

Miranda was no different. The dolt of a Duke laughed at that — a self-satisfied, hehheh sort of laugh, as though he had accomplished something remarkable.

Well. He had, in a manner of speaking. He had brazenly installed his former mistress as his lawful wife, and stripped the b*stard label from her child in the bargain. Quite the feat.

“Actually, Father — I have a request.”

“Oh? Go on, say whatever it is.”

Annabella rarely spoke at all these days, and had been growing ever more distant from Miranda and Delilah — so when she came forward like this, the Duke nodded as though he would grant her anything.

“I would like to visit my maternal grandparents.”

“……That’s——”

“I will soon become the Crown Princess, and once I do, I will spend the rest of my life within the imperial palace. Before that happens, I would like to meet my own blood, even just once.”

Annabella had deliberately emphasized the Crown Princess. In a sense, she had just used the royal marriage itself as collateral.

“You may not know this, but contact was lost almost immediately after your mother passed away. I do wonder if too much time hasn’t gone by.”

‘Now he’s lying to my face.’

Hilda had told her they had actively tried to take Annabella in — so what was this talk of contact being severed right away?

“That’s all right. Even if I go and am refused an audience, I simply cannot bring myself to become the Crown Princess feeling this heavy-hearted.”

And there it was again — that very useful piece of leverage.

The Duke, his mustache cultivated into a fine, sweeping curve, stroked his chin in deliberation. Then came the soft clink of cutlery being set down, and Miranda smiled.

“Let her stay a while. Once Her Highness the Crown Princess comes into her title, she’ll be too elevated in station to visit somewhere as small as that kingdom — let alone our own estate. It’s rather pitiful, isn’t it.”

Miranda, it seemed, couldn’t even wait for the royal wedding. She was already eager to play house with her tidy little family of three.

“Yes — just once is enough. Only the one visit.”

Annabella looked at the Duke with eyes full of quiet pleading. And then she cast the finest bait she had, the one perfectly designed to hook Miranda and Delilah — those two, always working their strings from behind.

“Since the wedding is approaching, I’d also like to bring back the jewelry that is my share, and whatever Mother left behind at the palace.”

At that, the eyes of both mother and daughter lit up.

“Father, please say yes. As Sister said, once the royal wedding takes place, she won’t have this kind of freedom.”

“Quite so. To receive the love of one’s grandparents is itself a blessing.”

It was rather reassuring, having unexpected allies spring up like that.

Duke Lates deliberated a moment longer before he spoke.

“Very well. But the journey alone takes two days — you may go, provided you return within a week.”

“Then that leaves three days to stay! Could I perhaps also come——ow.”

Delilah’s loose tongue had gotten away from her, and by the look of it, Miranda had stepped on her foot. Even someone with no sense of propriety ought to know when she did and didn’t belong in a conversation. Delilah had not even that much.

“My, the child does have such a funny sense of humor.”

Miranda dabbed lightly at her temple with a handkerchief and smiled pleasantly.

“So then — when would you like to leave?”

“Tomorrow would suit me perfectly well.”

“My dear, she must be back before preparations for the royal wedding begin — please, let her leave tomorrow.”

Duke Lates was a man easily swayed by a woman’s words, and Miranda’s were no exception. He gave his consent without hesitation.

“Well — so be it.”

Annabella wanted to cry out in triumph, but kept her joy to a careful, measured show so as not to seem suspicious.

“Then may I be excused to go up and pack?”

“Go on.”

Annabella rose, dipped into a slight curtsy toward the Duke, then turned and made her way up the stairs.

“That child has such a breezy way of greeting people — one can never tell if she means it for you alone or simply for anyone who happens to be in the same direction.”

Miranda’s voice drifted up behind her, already working its poison.

“It always feels as though she’s deliberately leaving me out. It does upset me so.”

‘Ha.’

To think Miranda had likely been saying such things about her all along — it drew a weary sigh out of her. But today, people like that were the furthest thing from her concern.

“Hilda!”

Annabella called out as she stepped into her bedchamber, where Hilda would be waiting.

The moment Hilda heard that permission had finally been granted, color bloomed across her face.

“Oh, how overjoyed His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen will be……”

“But Father said that all contact was severed the moment Mother passed away……”

At that, Hilda’s expression flared with indignation.

“Not at all! They even sent an envoy in person. And if that still wasn’t enough, they said they would come themselves.”

“Why…… have you never told me any of this before?”

“I couldn’t bring confusion to you when you were so young, my lady. And besides — it was their command.”

Annabella tried to picture the grandparents who had stepped back for her sake. Were they kind people? Did they resemble her mother? Did she herself, perhaps, take after them?

“I’ll be honest with you, my lady. Until quite recently, I had been secretly sending word to Her Majesty the Queen by carrier pigeon — about your situation.”

“What?”

Annabella cried out, then muffled herself with a pillow. Thankfully, laughter from the ground floor was drifting all the way up — Miranda’s voice would have covered her easily, and then some.

“Then, Hilda — no matter what I might do, will you be on my side?”

“My lady, I am already on your side. I swore as much to Her Highness the Princess.”

Hilda still remembered Aubrey’s death.

Some three years after Annabella was born, Aubrey — who had been in perfectly good health — had begun to waste away without warning, until her face turned not merely pale but faintly blue, and she began coughing up black blood.

Anyone could see it was no natural death. And yet the Duke had buried it. And then Miranda came to live in the ducal estate.

“Right now, my voice does not reach Father. You know why, Hilda.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I cannot be happy in this house.”

“But my lady — you are to be wed in the royal marriage and become Crown Princess very soon.”

Annabella said nothing.

Her hair rippled in thick platinum waves, catching the lamplight like a shimmer of silver. She had inherited Aubrey’s graceful neckline and refined features — lips that were just full enough, carrying a natural blush of rose. There was not a single thing lacking. She was, by any measure, a beauty.

“I had a dream. The truth is, I……”

That she had lived longer. That she had become Crown Princess. That she had carried a child. That something terrible had been done to her. That she had come back.

She wanted to say all of it — but the words simply would not come.

“So you see, Hilda. I……”

The same, again.

She didn’t know why or how she had returned, but it seemed she could not speak of it to anyone.

“Hilda, bring me my notebook.”

Annabella tried to convey it through writing instead, but found that just as impossible — whether words on paper or a drawn image, nothing would come through.

“What’s the matter, my lady? You can simply tell me.”

Hilda would believe her. She knew that. And yet the words refused to form — it made her chest feel so tight she thought it might split open.

“A few days ago…… I had a dream.”

In the end, Annabella decided to invent a story.

“My late mother came to me. She told me I must never marry the Crown Prince — that I would only be made miserable.”

“That’s only because you’ve been so anxious lately, my lady.”

“No. She also told me that if I asked Father today, I would be allowed to go to the Kingdom of Elaise. Look — it actually happened, didn’t it?”

The Duke had, without question, been a man who had worked to keep Annabella away from the kingdom. And yet he had suddenly granted permission for her to go to the Kingdom of Elaise. Something she had believed utterly impossible had come to pass.

When Annabella put it that way, it truly felt as though the dream had carried some power of its own. Hilda found herself drawn into the telling before she even realized it.

“Mother wept as she looked at me, saying that His Highness the Crown Prince was a cruel and faithless man — that I would spend my life in a misery worse than death……”

In truth, it was Annabella who was weeping now. Every time those memories surfaced, they lodged in her chest like an old wound — her breath would tighten, and the tears would fall before she could stop them.

“Goodness, my lady……! Please don’t cry. A dream is only a dream. But if you wish to believe it, then we shall go to the kingdom together. All right?”

“Yes…… Hilda — if it turns out I was right, will you flee with me? Even at the cost of your life?”

“If His Highness the Crown Prince is truly such a man…… then of course I will! Your happiness is the very purpose of my life, my lady.”

For a moment, Annabella had forgotten — she and Hilda were the kind of people who didn’t need to say such things to each other at all.

“Thank you, Hilda. For always being by my side.”

“All I need is for you to be happy, my lady. Otherwise, when I reach the heavens someday, Her Highness the Princess will surely scold me.”

There was a genuine, aching tenderness in Hilda’s eyes as she said it. And from that look alone, Annabella felt certain — her mother must have been a good person.