Lately, Hari’s greatest joy was imagination. Sitting on a terrace bathed in warm sunlight, she gazed at a drawing that filled the yellowish parchment. It depicted a small cottage with a modest vegetable garden, herself playing the lira in front of it, and neighbors drawn to the sound of her music. Unsatisfied with just imagining it, she had employed a quill pen to bring it to life.

‘If I get out of here.’

This premise led Hari to a distant future. First, she wanted a home of her own. Even if it was an unremarkable cottage, she wanted it to be a comfortable space. Next, she wanted a warm bed beside a hearth. A bed where she could fall asleep without worries and greet the morning. She would fill wooden bookshelves with pharmacology books she had wanted to study. There was a joke that mixing primrose, evening primrose, and wine could create a love potion. The thought of testing it made her chuckle.

She also wanted to acquire a chalice lira made of the finest ivory and tortoise shell. And she would practice the songs her grandmother had taught her. Since living alone might be a bit lonely, she could bring a cute dog to live with her. At her evening table lit with warm candles, she would place cheese and honey on wheat bread she liked, and fill deep plates with boiled lentils and eggs. The dog curled up on the wool carpet would wag its tail when its turn came, and Hari would fill a plate with food for it. After eating their fill, they would lie together on the carpet with an unfinished book…

‘Am I being too greedy?’

Hari put down her quill pen with a bitter smile. Selling the jewelry she had carefully collected could supplement her living expenses. Making this drawing a reality wouldn’t be difficult either. Staring blankly at the picture that was missing an important prerequisite condition, Hari folded the paper neatly.

Everything depends on escape, and what comes after. The problem was that she couldn’t find a breakthrough, but still.

Though she had resolved to bewitch Achilleon’s eyes and ears, she didn’t know what to do. She had no talent for seduction using her body like Antor’s concubines, nor could she roll out sweet words. But knowing this was just a well-fed excuse, the anxiety growing in her heart increased.

Hari gazed down at her attire. Since morning, she had diligently curled her hair, awkwardly applied makeup, and worn the clothes Achilleon had sent. The result of dressing according to that man’s taste seemed both suitable and unsuitable for her, but such things no longer mattered. Hari looked at the White Jade Palace rising round above the thickets.

Love is a weapon that grips a person’s heart beyond calculation of gain and loss. She had reached this conclusion last night while suffering from nightmares about the dead Hela. Her thoughts extending from Hela had reached Selina. That woman loves the man despite knowing her father is trying to kill Achilleon. She hates Hari, who receives Achilleon’s love, enough to kill her. It’s an emotion Hari cannot understand. But what if she could make Achilleon fall into such a swamp-like love?

What would happen if Achilleon’s favor stopped being an act? If she could make that man fall into desperate love.

But then Hari laughed weakly.

‘I can’t even imagine that man falling in love.’

For him to truly love me.

No matter how desperately she wished for it, such a thing would never come.

Hari sighed lightly and unfolded the parchment she had put away. The future adorned with happy delusions sparkled under the gentle sunlight. Just as she drew a question mark in the corner of the picture, an unfamiliar servant wearing a red cloth on his arm approached. Following the shadow stretching at her feet, Hari looked up.

“Lady Hari, Princess Madalena has sent for you.”

* * *

She was on her way to the princess’s palace, guided by an attendant.

“My lady! Here you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Laodike, the head lady-in-waiting of the queen’s palace, ran over with delight as soon as she spotted Hari. It had been a long time since they had seen each other, since the incident when Ipea was framed. Hari gestured for Madalena’s servant to wait a moment.

“What is it?”

“You said you knew the Heilotai Ipea. Do you happen to know which prison she’s in? I asked the prison guards, but they wouldn’t tell me, saying it’s not my business.”

“Why are you looking for her?”

Because Hari had secretly torn up the tribute items before, Laodike had been suffering. Apparently, she still hadn’t resolved the queen’s order.

“Ah, that’s…”

Laodike fumbled awkwardly. She glanced briefly at the direction Hari was heading, then forgot her original purpose and asked a curious question.

“By the way, what business do you have at the Second Prince’s palace?”

When there was no answer, Laodike covered it up with an awkward laugh. She had realized her own predicament.

“I just need to confirm something with that slave. Please let me know if you find out where she is.”

“I heard she’s waiting for the final verdict in court. She should be in the pit prison. Even if you visit, proper conversation would be impossible. Her tongue would have been cut out for stealing and framing an innocent person. With no room for leniency, she won’t escape flogging.”

“Ah…”

Laodike’s face turned pale. It was understandable, since if Ipea’s body was ruined by flogging, she couldn’t make her weave in her place. After expressing her gratitude, Laodike walked away quickly.

Hari resumed her interrupted walk. Upon reaching the massive Sun Palace carved from pinkish stone, waiting servants greeted her.

“Welcome, Lady Hari. Princess Madalena is waiting for you.”

The Sun Palace where the Second Prince resided boasted grandeur comparable to the main palace. Statues adorned with splendor and intricacy stood everywhere, and even the servants moving with measured steps wore clothes made of the finest fabric.

The interior of the Sun Palace, contrary to its name, exuded a cool and oppressive feeling. However, unlike the eastern wing that displayed extreme luxury, the western wing where the princess resided was so quiet that not even footsteps could be heard. The contrasting scenes differed as much as the inside and outside of a tomb.

Princess Madalena, who had requested the meeting, waited for Hari in the western greenhouse.

“I heard you weren’t feeling well.”

“I’m much better now. Thank you for your concern.”

The sound of pouring tea filled the greenhouse with its languid air. However, the atmosphere between the two women, who stared at each other searchingly, was far from the gentle summer air. Madalena glanced at the untouched refreshments. It was an attempt to lighten the mood, but despite the invitation to eat, Hari remained unmoved.

“I know this meeting must be uncomfortable for you.”

The slave from Galate didn’t appear intimidated. She maintained proper etiquette while keeping her back straight and her gaze direct. Madalena didn’t dislike the bold yet appropriate look in her eyes. Regardless of this thought, her scrutinizing gaze remained cold.

“You wanted to know why I called you. I simply want to foster friendship, nothing more. I feel a sense of kinship with you, Lady Hari. Being from a foreign country myself, I understand the discomfort you experience. The wary glances at foreigners, the rejection, the overwhelming feeling that no matter how hard you try to blend in, you never will.”

While the formal consolation continued, Hari quietly wrapped her hands around her teacup.

“Having experienced it all myself, I wanted to tell you that I understand your position and deeply sympathize. What happened to Galate is regrettable. I don’t know how to offer comfort.”

“Your Highness, is that really why you called me? To say you feel kinship specifically with me seems odd, considering there are too many slaves in this palace who lost their countries to Hitais’s invasion.”

The tree branches above their heads swayed gloomily, casting shadows. As the tea cooled, the silence deepened. Hari quietly gazed at the princess’s face, shrouded in shadow.

Madalena was a dignified princess. She had the air of someone nobly raised, and her demeanor exemplified a virtuous woman. However, for being the wife of the Second Prince, who held the most power in the palace, she had surprisingly few attendants. Despite wearing splendid clothes and living in a clean and beautiful palace, the palace’s mistress herself had a face that seemed thoroughly diminished and broken.

“But it’s not just that with you, Lady Hari.”

Just as she took a sip of the cooled tea.

“Princess, please slow down. You’ll get hurt if you run!”

“Mommy!”

A small girl who had crossed the lawn jumped into Madalena’s arms. Startled, Madalena quickly caught the child while giving a reproachful look to the nanny who followed. However, her gaze when turned back to the child was full of warm affection. It was Madalena’s daughter, Anasha.

Anasha, with her curly hair tied in two pigtails, widened her eyes.

“Is this Mommy’s friend?”