“That’s the problem with nobles. Even during the engagement, all those complicated procedures gave me a headache! If two people like each other, they should be able to have s*x whenever they want, right?”

Horrified, Hela hastily pressed a handkerchief to Selina’s mouth. Though it was an impertinent action, Selina let it slide. She was generally lenient with Hela, whom she had been close to since childhood.

“My lady, please be careful with your words!”

“If Achilleon thinks that way and that’s why he won’t come to me, I want to tell him there’s no need for that…”

Despite having successfully seduced men with those innocent eyes until now. It was frustrating that she couldn’t get the man she actually wanted. Someone might ask why she slept with other men while being so desperately in love with Achilleon, but that was different. Even a hedonist can have true love.

Selina let out a soft sigh.

Her n*pples stung whenever the fabric touched them, after Antor had sucked them hard the night before.

‘It’s the same with him.’

She had never seduced him first. The problem was Antor, who tempted her despite knowing she was his brother’s fiancée. Though she was vulnerable due to depression from being unable to get Achilleon’s attention no matter how hard she tried.

‘By that logic, the problem is Achilleon for leaving his fiancée lonely!’

Her rationalization was quick. Selina stood up huffing.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to see that slave.”

What was her name again? She couldn’t remember.

“What are you planning to do? Spread malicious rumors secretly? Though she wouldn’t dare make a sound at your command without going through all that trouble, there’s no need to dirty your hands directly.”

“Forget that, Hela! Using power to crush someone isn’t right.”

Right? Hela almost burst out laughing.

“She’s a poor citizen of a fallen nation. As a noble with much wealth like myself, I need to show mercy to the pitiful lower class. I want to avoid childish behavior.”

She thought nothing was more vulgar than making a spectacle of oneself fighting over a man. Especially if the opponent was a slave, it would be even more degrading.

She could have her dealt with secretly or find an excuse to drive her out.

Nothing was difficult for Selina, who had both money and power. However…

“As expected, my lady has exceptional insight. So what are you planning to do?”

“I’m curious about that woman.”

Selina turned to face the surprised Hela and whispered sweetly.

“I’m dying to know what caught Achilleon’s attention. We can always kill her later.”

A cruel smile appeared on her face that was as pure as a child’s.

* * *

“You really can’t do anything, can you?”

Seeing the tangled thread for the third time, Ipea muttered like she was tired of even getting angry. The maids had laid out baskets and were busily moving their hands. They were extracting thread from flax stems inside, and the worst among them was the handiwork of the slave from Galate. Unable to watch anymore, Ipea snatched away the spindle.

“Your cleaning is inadequate, your laundry is sloppy. Even if you never did menial work being born noble, shouldn’t you at least be skilled at weaving?”

“I’m still not used to it.”

“I’ve heard that excuse more than ten times. Give it here.”

“Thank you, Ipea.”

If Ipea hadn’t lent her help, she would have suffered harsh hazing from the servants. Hari had no talent for menial tasks. While it was true that she wasn’t familiar with them due to lack of experience, such flimsy excuses didn’t work in the palace.

“Don’t just say thanks with words, show it with actions. Like sharing some of the treats you got from the Third Prince. Gold-plated rings or silver earrings. You know what I mean?”

“I’ll make sure to set some aside for you.”

“Never mind that, just bring more flax. You can pick it from behind the greenhouse. Don’t forget to get the ledger from the supervisor and record it.”

Of course, Hari had no intention of accepting help for free. When she held out a bundle of mugwort, Ipea recoiled.

“What I need is something that can be turned into money.”

“Mix it with willow bark and drink it in water, it’s good for muscle pain. The pharmacy will pay well for it. By the way, do you know anything about Lady Selina?”

“Her public reputation isn’t bad, she is known for being kind and friendly.”

Ipea, who had been deflecting and wondering why such a question was asked, finally revealed after some consideration.

“There’s some gossip that she grew up not knowing hardship so her head’s full of flowers, but she’s better than nobles who abuse their power. Everyone’s desperate to attend her parties, you know.”

However, what followed was not so ordinary.

“But those parties are a bit strange.”

Right at that moment.

“…Lady Selina!”

Speak of the devil—just as the conversation was getting interesting, the greenhouse door burst open. When Selina appeared with her maid, the startled maids hurriedly showed their respects.

“Don’t mind me, continue with your work.”

After calming the commotion, Selina approached with graceful steps, her elegantly pleated peplos swaying.

She stopped right in front of Margharita. Ignoring the surrounding whispers, Selina led Hari to the refreshment table prepared at the back of the greenhouse.

Before getting to the point, Selina’s gaze, which had been scanning Hari from head to toe, suddenly fixed on something. It was the gold brooch pinned to Hari’s bodice.

For an instant, sparks flew in her clouded eyes.

“It’s a lovely afternoon, Miss Hani.”

“It’s Hari.”

That’s the same thing, why make such a fuss about it. F*ck.

Grinding her teeth, Selina was shocked. How could she use such a vulgar word? Regaining her composure, Selina sighed with deep worry showing on her face.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

However, she couldn’t maintain such dignity in her inner thoughts. The notion that Hari was ‘just’ a slave girl shattered the moment she stepped into the greenhouse. The moment she discovered Hari tending to the flax stems, her heart was consumed by pitch-black jealousy.

A woman who looked more like a goddess from the Igrito Myth than herself, adorned with brilliant jewels. That terrible realization weighed on her mind like a stone. Having to maintain a gentle smile while gritting her teeth at this unfamiliar sense of inferiority. Reminding herself: manage your expression, manage your expression.

“Achilleon seems deeply troubled, and I’d like to cheer him up even for a moment. What do you think, Miss Hari? As you know, he’s been so busy with post-war matters.”

“If you’re asking for my opinion, I have nothing to say. Surely Miss Karnos knows His Highness’s preferences better than I do.”

“Ah, come to think of it, His Highness really enjoyed the plums I gave him. I still remember. When we were young…”

Selina launched into a long speech about her memories with Achilleon, with dreamy eyes. She talked about their first meeting at the stadium, learning swordsmanship and horseback riding following him during their academy days, and how Achilleon still feels sorry and guilty towards her because she got seriously injured due to her poor athletic abilities.

“It was an injury purely due to my inexperience, but Father was so angry… I’m sure the King secretly ordered after that incident… to keep distance from me!”

“If Miss Karnos brought plums like when you were young, the Prince would be very pleased.”

“That won’t do… This is something you must do. Sadly, he still keeps his distance from me. Right now, all his attention is focused on you.”

F*cking hell. Contrary to her sneering inner thoughts, Selina’s face showed the pure love of a woman sacrificing an opportunity to her rival for the joy of the man she loves.

“So please, do this in my place.”

Selina smiled gracefully. It was essentially an order, not a request.

“The plum tree is in the temple’s orchard. I’ve already notified the manager, so you can pick them without getting separate permission. Go quickly now, Miss Hari.”

And so Hari found herself pushed out to the back garden. She wasn’t in a position to refuse. Though would there be anyone here who was…

Rustle.

How far had she walked, holding up her skirts to avoid grass stains? Soon she reached a vast garden where white statues were spread out in a semicircle. Above the chillingly green lawn, the massive pillars of the temple rose like sentries, their height impossible to gauge. The magnificent open interior was clearly visible. Torches blazing on every wall. The brass altar bearing traces of time and the white hemispherical ceiling, the ancient text carved above and the statues of twelve gods decorating the pillars added to its sanctity.

Hari walked slowly past the murals depicting the Igrito Myth.

Her white skirts swayed gently over the grass. Unlike the money-plastered temple, the orchard surrounded by white fences gave off a simple, pastoral feeling. With no one guarding it, entering through the gate was easy.

Climbing up the ladder, Hari reached for a large, red plum hanging from the lowest branch.

‘This should be fine.’

Just as such doubt crossed her mind, bells rang in the distance. When that clear sound merged with the temple choir’s singing to create an increasingly loud and high resonance, a boy who had broken away from the choir group screamed toward Hari.