Robellia walked over to the cupboard with the letter in her hand. On one side of the cupboard, crammed with trinkets and ornaments, was a small box. She opened it and placed the letter inside.

The box contained dozens of letters she had received from Akan, along with two decks of cards she no longer played with. To Robellia it was a treasure more precious than any jewel.

“Let’s hurry, everyone.”

At Baroness Karen’s command, the maids quickly began to dress the princess.

Despite his busy schedule, the Emperor always made time for dinner with his children. Nowadays only Robellia and the Crown Prince and his wife were present, but in the past the table had been crowded with her siblings, making for lively meals every day.

It was, after all, just a daily family meal, but the overly elaborate etiquette of the court made the preparations unnecessarily time-consuming.

“Your Highness, I think you may have put on some weight again. Perhaps it’s time to cut back on the snacks.”

Cecilia, one of the maids, remarked as she struggled to tighten the ribbon around Robellia’s waist. Lady Suther, watching, chimed in with a disapproving scolding.

In the past, Robellia might have panicked and worried endlessly about whether she had really put on weight, but such comments no longer bothered her.

After all, Akan had said in one of his letters that he didn’t like women who were too thin.

“Akan thinks a little weight is healthier and more attractive than being too thin.”

Lady Suther let out an exaggerated sneer, loud enough for everyone to hear. Having cared for Robellia since she was a child, her casual attitude was hardly surprising or inappropriate.

Lady Suther pushed the maid aside and took over, tugging at Robellia’s waistband as she spoke. 

“He’s just saying that to please you, Your Highness. If you were to gain so much weight that the horse carrying you couldn’t even move, do you think the young lord would still feel the same way?” 

“Ugh, it’s not that bad…”

Robellia groaned, struggling for breath as her stomach was uncomfortably squeezed. 

Of course, Lady Suther was exaggerating to frighten her. Robellia hadn’t put on nearly that much weight. The real issue was the current trend among the capital’s noble children: emaciated figures, so thin you could see their bones. The lady-in-waiting wanted the princess to stand out at any gathering, to attract the admiration of men and the envy of women. 

Lady Suther then adjusted Robellia’s barely budding br*asts, lifting them as much as possible before securing them firmly in place. 

“If you keep eating snacks like that every day, it won’t be long before you get there! And when you do, I’ll have a portrait of your plump figure painted and sent straight to the Roxas estate!” 

“Don’t do that!” 

“Then take it to heart, Your Highness. No man in this world likes a woman heavier than himself.” 

Robellia’s expression fell again. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Akan in person since their first meeting. For all she knew, he might still believe that she had grown into an exceptionally beautiful young woman. He might even have dismissed the comments about her weight as mere exaggeration. 

Unfortunately, Robellia wasn’t very self-confident about her appearance – neither her figure nor her face. Her noble status meant that no matter how much people praised her, she could never tell if their words were true. 

That was why, at her first ball earlier this year, she had retired early rather than mingle with the other noble children. Of course, it wasn’t her looks that were the problem – it was her lack of knowledge of the trends and interests of her peers. 

When she was ready, Robellia went straight to the Emperor’s palace. Entering the dining hall, she was relieved to find that the Emperor had not yet arrived. But the ever-punctual Crown Prince was already there, seated with his wife. 

Raves greeted her in his characteristically stern voice. 

“Robellia, you’re late.”

“I’m not late, brother. Father hasn’t arrived yet.”

Her sharp retort brought a smile to Raves’ lips. No matter how much her eldest brother scolded her, her youngest sibling never let it get to her. Deep down, she knew he adored her. 

As Robellia took her seat opposite the Crown Prince and his wife, the Emperor arrived. 

“Everyone’s here, I see.” 

Despite narrowly avoiding being late, Robellia nodded as if nothing was wrong. 

Although this was a gathering of the entire Imperial family, the dining table was quite modest. The current Emperor was famously frugal, unwilling to tolerate even the slightest waste – of a single grain of wheat or otherwise. It was said that being the Emperor’s palace cook was less pleasant than cooking in an orphanage.

The Crown Prince, well aware of the Emperor’s frugal nature, swallowed the bland food in silence, while Robellia, the only one in the palace to indulge in sweet treats and fruit specialities, poked idly at her plate.

The Emperor, watching Robellia closely, finally spoke.

“How was your lesson with Count Ratsen?” 

Robellia’s head snapped up in surprise. Her father had mentioned the name of her older tutor, the one responsible for teaching her diplomacy. Wasn’t he the same man who had scolded her earlier for not showing enough enthusiasm in her studies? 

“I’m… not sure yet.”

“Just listening will help you.” 

Though her answer was not particularly impressive given the training she was receiving, the Emperor didn’t seem too concerned. In truth, the lessons Robellia was undergoing were far beyond what was normally expected of Imperial women. 

The Emperor had seen to that because he did not want his beloved youngest daughter to end up as a mere pawn on the political chessboard. 

Too young to fully understand her father’s intentions, Robellia naively voiced her thoughts.

“But… I don’t want to marry into another country. What’s the point of studying diplomacy?”

It wasn’t just the idea of marrying a foreign prince that she rejected. Robellia had no desire to marry anyone at all. She had already given her heart to a boy she had only met once in the past.

Raves, who had been quietly listening to the loving conversation between father and daughter, decided to join in.

“Robellia, don’t close yourself off to possibilities. You could make a great queen.”

Robellia frowned and shook her head in obvious displeasure. Both her father and her brother were obviously blinded by their affection for her.

The truth was, Robellia had little interest in becoming queen – or even excelling academically. She lacked the drive to gain or protect power or wealth, for she had never known a shortage of either. The ambition so often seen in others simply didn’t resonate with her.

What Robellia really wanted was nothing great. She just wanted to live peacefully in the palace, waiting for Akan Roxas to grow into a fine man and come and take her away.

Since their first meeting, Robellia’s fantasies had grown more and more vivid. Surely Akan would grow into a tall and handsome man. Every night she dreamed of a silver-haired gentleman getting down on one knee and proposing to her. In these dreams, Robellia would gracefully hold out her hand.

Still holding her utensils, Robellia found herself slipping into another daydream.

“Robellia.”

“Y-Yes?”

Torn from her thoughts by her father’s voice, Robellia looked up. The Emperor was speaking in a more stern tone than usual.

“As much as you enjoy the privileges of being a member of the royal family, you also bear its responsibilities. Don’t forget that.” 

Both her father and eldest brother, as well as all her siblings, fulfilled their roles and responsibilities in their respective places. For Robellia, this ultimately meant finding a marriage that would benefit the royal family and, by extension, the Empire – a match her father would choose for her.

Robellia could not bring herself to admit that her mind and heart were completely taken by a boy. Feeling defeated, the young princess could only nod silently.

—

Late at night, the candles in the princess’s bedroom were still burning. On her desk lay blank sheets of paper and a treasured box of Akan’s letters, which she had read and reread countless times.

Since the family dinner, her mind had been filled with restless thoughts. After resting her chin on her hand for what seemed an eternity, Robellia finally picked up her heavy quill.

[To my dearest Akan,]

As soon as she saw the words she had unconsciously written, Robellia crumpled the paper in frustration.

Getting ahead of herself was one thing, but imagining a future where she married Akan and became the Duchess of Roxas – that was still just Robellia’s personal wishful thinking.

With a sigh, Robellia smoothed a fresh sheet of paper and wrote a more neutral opening.

[To my dear friend,]

Friend. It was the best term Robellia could use for Akan at this point.