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Clusters of blue Anchan flowers hung in abundance along the walls of Veldam Castle. On the day they all bloomed at once, the king rode out of the castle on a beautiful, decorated white horse. At his side was Malyn, her brown hair adorned with pearls and her cheeks red with powder made from crushed red gems. With Paradi confined to a small stable, Malyn rode the king’s most gentle mare.

The tournament was held in a field not far from the castle. Wide barricades and pavilions had been erected on the grounds, and crowds had already gathered. The king sat in the largest and highest pavilion. Malyn sat much closer to the front. Everyone knew what the prize of this tournament was, and all eyes were on her.

More humiliating than being mocked by a common ruffian was her present state, adorned and displayed before hundreds of watching eyes. The king sat behind her, on a higher level, basking in his pride.

“It’s a beautiful day.”

Instead of a mask, the king wore a veil. He did this in hot weather, they said. The veil was made of several layers of thin, billowing fabric that, like his mask, hid everything but his bearded chin.

In the sunlight, the king looked strange and alien. Malyn looked up at him, expressionless. The king looked at her and smiled slightly. That was all.

“Shall I get you something to drink?”

Anessa asked, but Malyn shook his head. Ann’s duties had changed that day – she had been transferred to the castle’s gardening department. Even Nadia, usually so lazy and thoughtless, had begun to avoid her, probably planning to follow Ann’s lead. Anessa remained, but her attitude had clearly changed. Where once she tried to be attentive, like a tongue in Malyn’s mouth, now she just did her job. So Malyn didn’t want to ask her for anything.

Five lords sat around the king, and even without turning around, Malyn could feel their eyes fixed on the back of her head.

Bwooo-

A herald sounded the start signal. The barricade opened and the knights burst forth, each one showing off his heavy armour. The horses wore heavy helmets too, and Malyn almost smiled, imagining how Paradi would protest if he had to wear one of those.

But no…

What was there to smile about when she thought of that troublesome horse? She hardened her expression. After all, she was in this situation because of him. And she wasn’t even his rightful owner. She thought of Layla and realised that it had been a long time since she’d seen him – since she’d seen his face, in fact.

Since that day, she had been forbidden to enter the king’s chambers until the tournament. The king had probably expected her to plead and beg, so he had kept her away. As a result, she had been unable to sleep, even in the early hours of the morning.

Malyn knew that Layla often woke at dawn and left quietly, trying to avoid her. Layla spent her long days outside, helping with various tasks. Disliking the sight, Malyn also spent all day in the library, and their paths rarely crossed.

The librarians refused to allow her to spend the night there, so when evening came, she reluctantly closed her book – often after reading only a few pages – and returned to her cold bed. At dawn, Layla would slip back in like a ghost.

He would stand silently by her side, looking down at her. Then he would sigh, gently smoothing her hair and pulling the covers over her shoulders. For someone who didn’t seem to want to see her, his tenderness almost brought her to tears, and Malyn tried her best to pretend she was still asleep.

It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want to see her, but that he couldn’t bear it.

Malyn understood why Layla acted the way he did. Ever since they had been together, he had been plagued by guilt, especially after the day Malyn had been beaten by the king. Besides, Layla had probably heard about the consequences of the chaos caused by Paradi. So it was only natural that he couldn’t bear to face Malyn.

Malyn understood Layla perfectly, but her heart didn’t feel the same. A storm swirled within her.

“…But doesn’t the king need to see his first child?”

She heard the conversation behind her and instinctively her shoulders tightened. It was the lords speaking.

“We know she is a princess of Dion. However…”

“…therefore… but it’s not as if…”

They spoke amongst themselves, trying not to let her hear. She glanced back briefly. Just then, the king, who had been talking to one of the lords, turned his face towards her. Although his gaze was hidden by the veil, she knew he was looking down at her. After a moment, he smiled.

“There is no rule that the first child must come from the womb of a single woman. Even if she begs as much as she does to bear my child.”

Malyn could barely keep from gritting her teeth. The king openly mocked her desperation. But no matter how angry she was, she couldn’t scratch his face or attack him. With at least ten armed knights standing near the king and the lords, scratching his face would surely cost her her life.

Better to crawl in the mud than to die. Still, she didn’t want to die. Pretending she hadn’t heard anything, she turned her head slowly, as if her attention had been drawn elsewhere. She wondered what the king saw in her now that he was looking at her back. Were her ears as red with shame as Layla’s? She wondered and thought at the same time.

Perhaps it would be better to warm another man’s bed than this madman’s. If she could smile and charm him, one of the lords who took her might even say he’d keep her. If he was stronger than the king…

It was a vain fantasy. She had thought that life as a princess would be better than life as a servant, but hadn’t she already learned that it wasn’t true? Would life as a lord’s concubine be any better?

Feeling depressed, Malyn looked towards the tournament grounds. Inside the barricade, a chaotic battle was unfolding. Knights tangled with each other and horses fell; some knights charged with lances, others who’d lost their lances now fought with swords. Some were injured and left, only to be replaced by new fighters entering the fray.

“I wish lightning would strike this place and kill everyone here.”

Malyn looked ahead with a distant look and wished the same. The next moment there was a scream.

“Oh no!”

“Look at that!”

A warrior was thrown from his horse by an enormous force. Wearing heavy armour, the sound was deafening – a loud crash echoed. Everyone immediately turned in the direction of the sound. His opponent, wearing a helmet, carried the king’s banner on his back.