Riela stepped onto imperial soil to participate in the empress selection ceremony. The vast and unfamiliar imperial capital piqued the princess’s curiosity, but not for long. As usual, she quickly grew bored and found little to entertain herself in the area.

The emperor of the empire was a handsome man, just as she had expected. However, no spark of destiny struck her no matter how much she waited, and constantly bickering with the blue-haired oaf she kept encountering wasn’t amusing—only irritating.

Riela began to feel she didn’t like this place. Naturally, a childlike impulse to go home began to surface.

“What’s this?”

That’s when she discovered the tower.

It was a tall tower. Or rather, it only appeared tall because of its narrow width; in terms of height alone, it wasn’t all that impressive. What was this thing for? To make matters stranger, the door was tightly bound with chains and padlocks.

“Do you know what this is, Rose?”

“I do not, Your Highness.”

Riela had come across the tower purely by chance. She had wandered out of the annex for a stroll and gotten lost, ending up near the northern spire. Truly, it was a matter of coincidence.

The directionally-challenged princess and her equally directionally-challenged attendant stood in front of the mysterious tower, tilting their heads in confusion.

“Can’t we open it?”

“The chains look quite sturdy for breaking.”

Although the padlock hanging at the center was clearly meant to be opened with a key, their first thought was to break it—a warrior-like way of thinking. Riela, despite not being a warrior herself, didn’t bother pointing it out.

“I’m curious.”

“When I return to the detached palace, I’ll ask a maid. Whether I can borrow a tool to break it. Ah, of course, I’ll also ask if it’s okay to break it.”

The tower reignited Riela’s once-extinguished curiosity. And that brought about rather unwelcome consequences.

“…Expose Iseline to the princess’s vicinity.”

Upon learning of Riela’s interest in the tower, Marquis Bolthen expedited his plans. No one could predict what might happen if the locked door was opened. He was in the process of selecting a scapegoat, and this served as perfect timing. Risk factors needed to be eliminated.

Thus, the curtain rose on misfortune.

This was a story from a time that no longer existed, lost to the void.

***