While returning to the annex of the White Jade Palace, Hari pondered Achilleon’s meaningful words. There wasn’t much to think about.

‘Apart from helping that man, he means I should find my own way to survive.’

Hari didn’t need his help either. She never wanted it from the start. After passing through the luxurious corridor filled with gilded decorations, Hari hesitated when she reached the second floor. The woman standing outside the room bowed politely as soon as she saw Hari.

“I have been assigned to serve you by the Third Prince’s orders.”

The new maid who replaced Huliya’s vacant position guided Hari into the room. A moment later, Hari gasped at the scene before her eyes. Boxes and jewelry cases piled high from the carpet to the bed. She could see servants busily unpacking and organizing clothes and accessories.

“What is all this?”

“It’s the Third Prince’s order to make you the finest Charis of high society.”

Charis – the rose of society, a term referring to the most beautiful goddess. Though she understood the meaning, Hari blinked in confusion.

“For what reason?”

“Because you need to match His Highness’s status, of course.”

The maid resolved her doubt with a polite smile. Unlike her courteous smile, her words were utterly scathing.

“His Highness said not to lower his dignity with an unsightly appearance.”

Judging that this should suffice as an answer, the maid joined the flow of busy servants. Above them who were freely taking over Hari’s space, the image of Achilleon in his splendid attire came to mind. Every single one of his possessions was extremely luxurious.

“To wear more accessories, we’ll need to pierce your ears. Please sit here.”

“Is this really necessary?”

“Of course. All royal women have their ears pierced. They put in three, four, even five holes to wear jewels.”

Led by the urging hand, she sat in front of the vanity. While the maid took out the needle and sterilized it, Hari stared at her reflection in the mirror with a stiff face. In Galate, jewelry was a luxury. Moreover, in Lagonia, there was a custom of cherishing the body given by the gods, so harming the body for the purpose of wearing ornaments was unthinkable. As the sharp needle touched her earlobe, her body tensed with anxiety.

“I- I don’t want-“

“Bear with it.”

Hari squeezed her eyes shut at the piercing pain.

“See, it doesn’t hurt much, does it? What wouldn’t we do to become beautiful? Everyone endures this much. Don’t make such expressions, look at all these jewels and clothes. They’re all yours. Even the Second Prince wouldn’t bestow this many ornaments on his favorite mistress.”

The maid chattered while rubbing Hari’s ear with medicated cotton. Meanwhile, another throbbing pain pierced through the opposite earlobe. The second time, she didn’t show such a pathetic sight of trembling. While cold sweat soaked her neck and dampened her clothes, Hari endured the pain. Perhaps due to extreme tension, she felt slight dizziness and nausea. As layer upon layer of elaborate ornaments accumulated on her neck, ears, and arms, Hari’s eyes grew increasingly dull and clouded.

After putting on amber anklets, draping pearl necklaces, and placing coral ornaments in her hair, they finished with color makeup. The woman reflected in the mirror had completely transformed into a different person. The heavily emphasized eye corners felt awkward. While Hari stared at her unfamiliar reflection with strange eyes, the maids fussed over how pretty she looked.

“Now we’ll remove all the hair from your arms and legs. It will hurt, but it’ll be over quickly.”

“Wait…!”

Rip—

The sticky oil that had hardened on her arms and legs was torn off all at once. Hari swallowed her scream at the pain that felt like her skin was being ripped off. The sound of peeling skin. The sound of something that wrapped her being completely torn away, and being reborn into something new and unpleasant. Hari trembled as she looked at her body, bright red like a newly hatched chick.

“It doesn’t hurt much, right? If you want to receive His Highness’s love, you must learn to endure this much pain.”

It hurts enough to make me cry. Hari looked at her forearms, which burned as though it had been scalded, and laughed self-mockingly.

“We should cut your hair too. It’s too long now. The latest fashion is to attach dyed artificial hair decorated with bird feathers and flowers.”

Snip. This time, large scissors cut away Hari’s brilliant golden hair. Chunks of golden threads fell to the floor, separated from her body. A skilled maid tried on strands of hair dyed in purple and turquoise colors one after another. Her technique of braiding feather decorations of similar colors together with the hair was flawless and precise.

“You’re so beautiful now, no one will dare look down on you as a ‘former slave.'”

Even at the subtle contempt underlying the emphatic statement, Hari didn’t lose her smile.

“There, all done!”

The woman in the mirror was a complete stranger. A small woman crushed under the makeup and ornaments following Hitais’s fashion. Hari forcefully lifted the corners of her lips, now painted red.

Now she was neither the half-penny princess of Galate nor the beloved young princess of Lagonia. Only Margharita, the prince’s mistress and possession, was reflected in the dirty mirror.

* * *

“The system in the occupied territories is stabilizing, and the maintenance of trade routes connecting to the northern Alans Peninsula is progressing smoothly. Now that we’ve secured a base for the spice trade, we’ll surely make considerable profits.”

“Thanks to the Foreign Affairs Minister’s efforts. How is the situation with the Alans rebels?”

“Rest assured, Your Highness. We suppressed them before opening the trade port.”

The results of the morning-long meeting were quite satisfactory. The royal family was enthusiastically expanding its influence by organizing the systems of vassal states, suppressing insurgents, and securing trade routes. The Alans, a tough equestrian people, were the most troublesome among the occupied countries. Dealing with the Alans forces, who would conduct guerrilla warfare while shouting slogans about liberation and restoration whenever they got the chance, was as annoying as fighting against beasts. Even so, they were nothing more than puppies barking without knowing their place.

The Alans resistance forces were defeated by Hitais’s cavalry. Inspired by the Alans rebellion, several vassal states stood against the royal family, but the results were devastating.

“Are you heading to the temple now?”

The following Foreign Affairs Minister asked while flipping through documents. Calculations could be read in his glinting eyes.

“It’s only right to offer sacrifices of victory to the goddess.”

“Your words are most wise.”

First Prince Dictys, who lost his life in an unexplained accident. Second Prince Antor, who had wielded tremendous influence while holed up in the vacant crown prince’s palace. And Third Prince Achilleon, who had brought glory of victory to Hitais after staying cautious until now. The sharp-witted Foreign Affairs Minister noticed that winds of change were blowing through the politically skewed landscape.

The commotion during the ritual was buried under the achievements of the hunting ceremony. As the balance of power was tilting, all he could do was eagerly wag his tail at another power holder who might drop some crumbs his way.

“Then I’ll take my leave, Your Highness. I’ll report back quickly as soon as I receive updates on the situation.”

Deep silence fell after the Foreign Affairs Minister withdrew, bowing so low he nearly touched the ground. How he prattled on as if he’d gained some great trust just because Achilleon had responded to him.

Achilleon twisted his lips. The Foreign Affairs Minister wasn’t the only noble approaching him. There were quite a few who offered bribes, declared their support, and like him, tried to keep one foot on the scale while reading the situation. Everyone was watching Achilleon’s moves. All while not knowing that they themselves were nothing more than disposable hunting dogs to be used and discarded as needed.

Letting out a light sigh, Achilleon ran his fingers through his hair with a touch of fatigue. He headed to the training grounds to loosen his body, stiff from the boring meeting. As he passed through the garden bathed in bright sunlight, he suddenly thought of that woman. While recalling her face as she smiled holding blue flowers, he unconsciously looked around. However, even until he reached the training grounds, there was no sign of her shadow.

This was usually the time when he would suggest a light walk to Hari under the pretense of exercise. After watching the meaningless sight of visitors crossing the main palace’s garden, Achilleon withdrew his interest and entered the training ground.

He instructed the trainees, ran five or six laps around the training ground, and finished some light conditioning. When he left the training ground after washing off his sweat, the clear dusk was settling in. That woman came to mind again when he passed by the blue Raspi flowers planted along the path to the temple.

Three days. Maybe four days. Since she hadn’t been seen. He’d told her she could visit the garden as she wished, so he’d expected her to frequent it, but she hadn’t appeared. Achilleon dismissed the needless questions and climbed the stairs turning toward the temple’s main entrance.

The central temple, divided into three buildings, was wrapped in subtle darkness. The upper level housed the prayer room, while the lower level extending underground contained the Hall of Rest where the tombs of past kings were enshrined. He moved unhesitatingly toward the Hall of Rest, not even glancing at the Igrito goddess statues lined along the corridor.

Unlike the outer walls coated with clean white clay, the passage leading to the lower level bore traces of time. Achilleon stared at the mural carved above the entrance. Two massive snakes wrapping around a crown. The symbol of Hitais and the royal seal. The snake baring its sharp fangs with its mouth wide open bore deeply into his black pupils.