“Princess, Princess!”

Perhaps hearing the noise from inside, Anessa knocked on the door, but Malyn ignored her, slamming her fists on the bed, kicking it, and running her fingers through her hair, which quickly tangled from the rough treatment.

Just then, the small side door attached to her room opened. Malyn was gripping a wooden figurine beside the bed, about to smash it to the floor. In the doorway stood Layla, with Anessa, Ann, and Nadia peeking anxiously from behind her. Malyn glared, her voice sharp.

“Don’t come in.”

Layla, calm and composed, turned to the others and instructed.

“Stay outside.”

“You leave, too,” Malyn ordered.

Layla ignored her command and stepped into the room, locking the side door behind her. Malyn tossed the figurine aside, stormed over to Layla and raised her arm. Layla didn’t move, meeting Malyn’s approach with steady calm, despite the anger in Malyn’s eyes. Their gazes met – Malyn’s intense and fiery, Layla’s a cool, piercing blue. A new wave of frustration swept through Malyn.

Malyn’s arm swung out and landed a sharp slap that echoed through the room. A loud crack was followed by gasps from the maids behind the door, signalling that they were still there, unwilling to leave. Layla turned her head away from the impact, her gaze lowered, before raising her eyes to meet Malyn’s intense gaze.

“Do you think I am joking?”

“…No, not at all.”

Malyn swung again, not even aiming, and her rough fingers caught in Layla’s hair. She grabbed Layla’s head and pushed her backwards. Layla stumbled and hit the door with a heavy thud. Malyn, momentarily shocked, hadn’t expected the much larger Layla to be pushed so easily.

But instead of apologising, Malyn turned around and started throwing things across the room – sheets, pillows, the wooden paperweight on the table, a decorative pewter cup…

Despite everything, Malyn found that she couldn’t bring herself to touch the expensive and fragile items, such as the vases and ceramic mugs, and she found this strange. At that moment, she felt that as a lowly woman, she didn’t have the right to destroy such valuable and beautiful things. The sound of something breaking was followed by a heavy thud. She wasn’t really angry anymore; it was more like she was throwing things around desperately.

Finally, her fingers closed around the apron – the same one she had stomped on and crushed into the floor over and over again. Her throat tightened as a wave of emotion washed over her, and with tears in her eyes, Malyn tugged at the apron.

I’ll tear it to shreds. This worthless thing…

Just then, someone grabbed her wrist. It was Layla. Malyn screamed.

“Let go!”

“You’ll regret this.”

“I said, let go! I don’t care!”

“No, you will regret it.”

From behind her, Layla held her firmly, whispering in a low, steady voice. Malyn tried to struggle in Layla’s grip, but even that was difficult. Panting, she spoke through gritted teeth.

“As if I’d regret tearing up something like this.”

“…Aren’t you already regretting it?”

Layla responded softly, almost as if sighing.

“I am not!”

“…Such a kind soul.”

Layla murmured, and finally, tears began to spill from Malyn’s eyes.

“Who are you mocking right now? Mocking a lowly woman like me…”

“…”

“And you’re…”

Malyn looked down at Layla’s hand clasping her wrist. It was a hand with roughened knuckles, long fingers and a callused palm. She had thought it resembled the hands of a hunter, but now she saw it more clearly – these were the hands of someone who had held reins and wielded a sword, like a knight.

The image of Alexis’s soft, round, and pink hands flashed in her mind. Overcome with frustration, Malyn looked up at Layla, tears streaming down her face.

“Someone like you… you…”

“I’m sorry.”

Layla interrupted her, and Malyn was surprised – she hadn’t expected an apology from Layla. Layla looked briefly at the side door through which she had entered, then led Malyn further into the room, presumably to keep their conversation private. This deliberate action only added to Malyn’s anger. Still, Layla held Malyn’s wrists gently but firmly and sat her down on the bed, her grip so tight that Malyn didn’t even think about resisting.

“You’re calling it worthless trash just a moment ago!”

‘Risking everything for such insignificant things.’

Layla had told her once. And now, of all times, Layla had come in and prevented Malyn from really letting go of her anger. Malyn tried to free her hands.

“It’s not important!”

“…but you risked your life on it, didn’t you?”

When Layla had once said, “Risking your life for such trivial things – your life isn’t much better”. Malyn had wanted to slap her. Now, if she wanted to, she could slap Layla, but… She looked at Layla with a frustrated look.

“And you owe your life to this insignificant girl, don’t you?”

“You’re right.”

Layla responded, her golden brows lowering in a silent acknowledgment. Malyn bit her lip, longing to return things to how they once were. But she knew it was impossible—and maybe, deep down, she didn’t truly want that. Because if everything went back, with Malyn as the maid and Layla as the princess, Layla would almost certainly lose her life.

It was something Malyn had suddenly realized today, looking at Alexis’s hands.

Perhaps, as Layla had once said, she was a kind person after all.

Layla silently examined Malyn’s chin and cheek. Malyn looked up at her with eyes full of fire, but Layla paid no attention as she gently traced her thumb across Malyn’s cheek. As her thumb pressed down on Malyn’s bruised skin, a dull pain washed over her.

“But now that I see you, I can’t help but wonder if the life I tried to protect back then was truly all that precious…”

“If that’s the case, then just go die.”

Before Layla could finish speaking, harsh words escaped Malyn’s lips. But Layla only looked at her, gazing with pity in her eyes.

“What’s the point of doing that now?”

“Why? Do you still value your life?”

“…No.”

Layla quietly shook her head and continued.

“What value does my life have if I’m throwing others into the hands of a monster? I didn’t understand that before.”

“…”

“But if I were to throw myself at King Veldam’s feet right now and confess that I am the true princess and that I deceived him, what would happen to you?”

A laugh escaped Malyn’s lips—a hollow, empty laugh.

“When I slapped you the first time, you were ready to hit me back tenfold, and now you claim to care about me?”

“I never said…”

“On that mountain, Your eyes said everything. Those cold, fierce eyes… I could see the anger sparking in them.”

Malyn stared at Layla for a long time. The two remained silent, with neither speaking for a while. Layla’s eyes wavered slightly, but she couldn’t look directly at Malyn. In the end, she turned her head to the side, covering her mouth and lowering her gaze to the floor, almost unable to move from the weight of her shame.

Alexis’s hands were just a sign—round and soft, like those of a wealthy woman. Even though Layla claimed to enjoy horseback riding as a princess, the shape of her hands still seemed unusual. They were unusually large, with joints that were rough and pronounced.

Malyn had past experiences with stable hands, inn servants, and even squires and the knights they served. The calluses on the hands of knights who held and wielded swords did not fade easily. The calluses on Layla’s hands, which Malyn once thought were simply from riding horses, now seemed similar to those of the knights—hands accustomed to riding and wielding swords and spears.

When the bandits attacked the princess’s group, it was Princess Layla who covered Malyn’s mouth. Because of the strength in her grip, Malyn thought it was a man, so she bit Layla’s hand hard. Malyn looked at Layla’s right hand, the same hand that had once silenced her, and saw an ugly scar on her little finger.