“A princess should not look so miserable at a gathering to celebrate the harvest.”

“Don’t worry, brother. Even if I wept and cried, it wouldn’t wash away the harvest.”

Raves gave a small, amused chuckle at her remark. Despite the considerable age difference, the two siblings had been quite close, but lately they seemed to clash over everything – especially when it came to Robellia’s marriage prospects.

“Introduce yourselves. This is…”

Raves began, introducing one by one the unmarried young men he had brought with him. 

Robellia dismissed their greetings with a lacklustre attitude, barely acknowledging them. She thought she had already turned down every eligible nobleman in the capital and, by extension, the Empire itself. Yet somehow Raves always managed to find more. Where he found them was a mystery.

Surely anyone could see that Robellia’s gaze was no more interested in these men than it was in a pebble by the side of the road. Yet her position as a princess, combined with her reputation for giving her heart to no one, seemed to ignite a competitive spark in them.

One of the men, with bronze skin and jet black hair, held out his hand.

“Would you do me the honour of a dance?”

Normally, Robellia would have rejected the offer outright, but this time she remained silent for a moment. The man, supposedly a noble from a foreign land, wasn’t the typical handsome type, but he did have a certain charm. Of course, that wasn’t the reason for her hesitation.

Faith is harder to maintain than to form. Robellia had always believed that Akan couldn’t come yet, but as the year drew to a close, doubts began to creep in. 

Perhaps he wouldn’t come at all. 

Perhaps he had forgotten his unspoken promise, or worse, considered it a burden.

But…

Robellia unfolded her neatly folded fan with a soft swish and lifted it to hide her face. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well.”

“Ah, my apologies…”  

While the rejected suitor only looked embarrassed, her brother’s face twisted into a scowl. Robellia turned her head sharply, pretending not to notice his reaction. 

The beautiful melody filled the air, but it couldn’t melt Robellia’s heart, which had already turned to winter.

From what she had learned, there was no apparent trouble in the Roxas household. Still, there could always be unforeseen circumstances beyond anyone’s control. 

So, she told herself again – this year isn’t over yet. Just until this winter, no more. Then she decided not to wait any longer. 

* * * 

Robellia stared at her reflection in the mirror, surrounded by her maids. Just this year, just this season, just this month. And so she had turned twenty-two.

“Your Highness, are you uncomfortable anywhere?” 

“Mm.” 

Robellia nodded slightly at Karen’s words. The tight dress felt suffocating, and the elaborate updo weighed heavily on her head, but she wasn’t going to complain. She didn’t even have the energy to. 

Robellia’s gaze drifted to the cabinet she no longer opened. It had been two years since the promised year had passed. It was time to accept the truth – Akan wasn’t coming back. 

She had stopped trying to deny the reality by imagining that he had contracted a serious illness or met with an unfortunate accident. After a discreet investigation, she had discovered that none of these scenarios were true. 

The one who had failed to notice was Robellia. It was clear now that Akan had decided not to come. Perhaps it was the princess herself, stubbornly waiting in the palace, who had made it impossible for him to seek an audience with the emperor. 

“You look absolutely ravishing today.”

“Well, of course. Our princess is the star of tonight’s banquet.”

“I hear the Crown Prince has invited many guests.” 

“Shall we sprinkle some more pearl dust on the hem of her gown?”

The maids helping her get ready chattered excitedly, their voices bubbling with anticipation. None of it reached Robellia’s ears; she merely nodded absently.

Tonight’s banquet was being hosted by the Crown Prince in place of the ailing Emperor. Officially it was a belated celebration of the princess’s birthday, but in reality it was little more than an event to decide her marriage.

This time, Robellia didn’t resist. The thought of ignoring her elderly father’s wishes or adding to her brother’s burdens weighed heavily on her heart.

Above all, it had been ten years. She had done all she could. It was time to let go.

“Your Highness, it’s time to go.”

Robellia took the first step forward. Behind her, Madam Suther, Baroness Karen and the maids formed a procession as they made their way to the great hall of the main palace where the banquet awaited. 

As the sounds of lively chatter and music approached, Robellia’s heart grew heavier. 

Yes, it had been an impossible promise from the beginning. Too much time had passed – so much that even if they met again, they might not recognise each other’s faces. 

Shaking her head slightly, Robellia tried to calm herself. Marrying someone who could support her brother who had endured so much stress was the best choice. It didn’t matter who it was, they were all the same. 

She paused at the closed doors of the hall. For some reason, the thought that this really was the end made her hesitate, her feet refusing to move forward. It was ironic – nothing had ever really begun, yet it felt so final. 

“Your Highness.”

With a stiff expression on her face, Robellia gave a small nod. The great doors on either side swung open. 

Although the music continued to play, the room full of people turned their eyes towards the princess. Feeling uneasy, Robellia instinctively lowered her eyes. 

The Crown Prince, surrounded by guests, immediately approached her. 

“Robellia.”

“Yes.”

Raves led Robellia to the centre of the hall. The musicians, quickly sensing the flow of the event, finished their current piece and prepared for the next. Unaccustomed to such grand occasions, Robellia silently swallowed a sigh.

But as the familiar music filled the air, her body instinctively began to move. Raves, leading the dance with practiced ease, spoke as they glided across the floor.

“Robellia, when someone asks you to dance, judge them carefully before you accept.”

“Yes.”

“If you’re not sure about someone, just look at me. I’ll be watching.”

“Yes.”

The rules of the banquet were simple: anyone who danced with the princess was automatically considered a candidate. The Crown Prince would then narrow down the list, leaving the final decision to Robellia. 

Of course, she had already decided to accept Raves’ choice without question.

It was nothing more than a tiresome play. The women, aware that they had only been called to fill the scene, wore half-hearted outfits, while the men, desperate to win the princess’s favour, were dressed like peacocks in their ostentatious attire.

None of them showed any interest in what kind of flowers Robellia liked or what kind of food she enjoyed.

When the music ended, Raves escorted Robellia back to the waiting maids.

“I’ll watch from over there.”

As he turned away, his gaze lingered briefly on a few of the men. Each of them nodded nervously as they met the Crown Prince’s eyes, their faces tense.

So these must be the ones who’ve caught my brother’s eye as suitable suitors. They’ll probably ask me to dance soon. 

Resigned to the situation, Robellia accepted the glass offered by Madam Suther and took a sip to quench her thirst.

The men glanced at Robellia out of the corners of their eyes, playing subtle mind games but hesitant to approach. Even with the Crown Prince’s approval, they were reluctant to speak to someone known throughout the Empire for her cold demeanour.

Instead of the shy imperial nobles, it was a foreign-looking man who mustered the courage to approach first.

“Your Highness, it has been a long time.”

“Ah…”

As the man approached, Robellia managed to recognise him. It was the dark-haired man who had asked her to dance two years ago.

Robellia tilted her head slightly, curious. Was this undeniably charming man still single? She hadn’t expected to see him again, especially since he wasn’t from this land.

“Would you honour me with a dance tonight?”

The man’s tone wasn’t mocking, but rather a playful attempt to ease the tension. A small smile appeared on Robellia’s lips. The man, now wearing a relaxed grin, lifted the corners of his mouth and extended a hand to her.