Chapter 17

The scene drew quiet exclamations from all around.

“Look, Her Majesty is smiling. She’s like a painting.”

“They make a perfect pair.”

“Both noble blood, noble status, and…”

“Both are unmarried.”

“Did they fall in love at first sight…?”

To the disappointment of some ladies spinning their own stories, Irien’s true thoughts were quite the opposite.

‘He’s… shorter than I thought.’

Officially, they’d met before, but this was the first time Irien saw a husband candidate in person.

‘No, that’s not important. Height doesn’t matter.’

What mattered was his background, and more importantly, the national benefit their marriage would bring.

Besides, Fernan wasn’t below average in height—he was taller than most men nearby.

With stylish brown hair, mature looks over thirty, and a tear mole, he was a charming man.

‘Not my type… But that’s not important!’

It was all because a certain foreigner had raised her standards.

The more Irien looked at Fernan, the more she tried to erase Usher’s image from her mind.

But even as music played and she accepted Fernan’s dance invitation, her mood didn’t improve.

“Your Majesty, you dance beautifully. The rumors reaching our country were not exaggerated.”

“…You flatter me.”

Elegant music, measured tempo, gentle steps.

Fernan was a skillful social dancer. He knew how to lead his partner. But that meant she had no control over the dance.

Even when partners changed, it was the same.

Irien danced with Glen, Marquis Oro’s second son, and the second prince of Biselman Kingdom, famous for its diamond mines. Each was famous for different reasons, but dancing with them was dull.

Especially for Irien, who knew the thrill of soaring on stage.

‘It’ll always be like this.’

While keeping her Queenly smile strong, Irien smiled bitterly inside.

No matter who she married—Fernan or anyone else—she would always dance these kinds of dances.

While fulfilling the role of a gentle Queen and a warm wife, following royal law, sharing a bed, and someday bearing this man’s child…

“May I call you ‘Irien’?”

Irien’s steps paused.

Fernan, who had succeeded in requesting a second dance, smiled as if she had made a mistake.

“I must have rushed things.”

“That…”

“It’s all right. I’ll wait eagerly for the day you allow it.”

Fernan continued dancing skillfully with her, leading the next steps. Irien barely managed a smile, but could not utter words of thanks.

‘Insane…’

Her throat felt tightly locked.

“I want to hear your real name from your own lips.”

For a moment, she wished—

That the one dancing with her and calling her name was not Fernan, but Usher.

Irien finally realized it.

Unlike the nation that would grow stronger from this marriage, her own heart was growing barren.

Just then, the music ended, and Fernan, unaware of her feelings, gently spoke.

“It seems the fireworks will begin soon. Would you like to step outside for a drink? It’s a good day, so perhaps some light champagne…”

“Your Majesty.”

Hilde, who had quietly approached behind them, bowed lightly.

“Princess Murien sends word that it’s almost time for your medicine.”

“…Yes, that’s right.”

There was no medicine to take at that time, but Irien responded smoothly so as not to appear awkward.

Irien glanced at Murien, who was surrounded by other nobles in the distance, then gave Fernan a polite, apologetic smile.

“Excuse me for a moment, Prince.”

“Ah, yes…”

Leaving the disappointed Fernan behind, Irien accepted Hilde’s escort and left the floor entirely.

Immediately, the young men who had been waiting their turn among the Sovereign candidates rushed forward.

But they shrank back, intimidated by Hilde’s fierce gaze and the silent pressure from Egon, who had come up behind them.

Thus, Irien was able to safely reach a secluded terrace.

Egon stood guard outside, and as soon as Hilde drew the thick curtains, Irien let out a deep sigh.

“Haaa…”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, more or less… Did I look very strained?”

“Only Princess Murien and I could tell, maybe.”

“I see…”

Irien almost raised her hand to her aching head, then stopped. Touching her forehead would smear her gloves with makeup, and touching her hair would ruin the careful work of her maids.

The corset, which mercilessly squeezed her delicate body, felt suffocating, and her lips, forced to smile all evening, were starting to tremble.

The weight of the crown, set with heavy, glittering jewels, was no help either.

She should have grown used to these discomforts, but today, they felt harder.

Hilde looked at her exhausted friend with sympathy.

“Try to relax for a bit. Would you like to sit?”

“I can’t. The dress would get ruined… And someone might see.”

Egon was blocking unwanted guests outside the curtain, but he couldn’t block all access to other terraces.

Irien kept her posture upright, gazing at the barely visible railings of another terrace beyond the thick columns.

“I’m fine. Just getting some fresh air is enough.”

Hilde frowned, then sighed.

“Then let’s go somewhere no one can see.”

“What are you… huh?!”

Suddenly, Hilde lifted Irien and stepped onto the railing.

Irien nearly screamed, instinctively clutching Hilde’s neck at the dizzying height.

Hilde, showing no sign of strain, bent her knees and jumped powerfully.

Tap! Tap tap!

After two leaps, the view changed completely. Irien, unable to fix her disheveled hair, stood with a dazed expression.

She was now on the third-floor terrace of the banquet hall.

‘She jumped two floors in one go…’

Hilde calmly set her down.

“This spot isn’t open, so it’s safe, right?”

“You…!”

“It’s best not to shout. Sound will carry, even so.”

“Ugh.”

Irien quickly closed her mouth. As Hilde said, faint voices could be heard.

“Hmm, can’t see from here… Is that the right direction?”

“Yes. Maybe we should try next door, or the upper floor…”

They were voices of people trying to sneak a look at the Queen on the terrace.

After some effort, those who didn’t find what they wanted went back inside. Hilde, who had waited until then, jumped onto the railing again.

“Rest here. I’ll bring something to drink.”

“…Hilde!”

Irien grabbed her as she prepared to jump down. She bit her lip and whispered softly.

“I’m sorry. And thank you. I should have said it earlier—thanks for finding me this morning, and for getting me out just now.”

“…You’re saying all sorts of things.”

Hilde gave Irien a bright smile.

“We’re friends.”

Leaving those words, she jumped down again. Truly alone, Irien stared at the empty railing and moved her lips.

“…You made me feel that way.”

A chilly night breeze scattered her small murmur.

Hilde was more than just a subordinate; she was a precious friend. But the circumstances that made them friends were not entirely pure.

“What are you worried about, Senri? We used to go out together just fine.”

“You let your guard down and we got caught by Dame Hilde, the Captain of the 2nd Knight Order, didn’t we?”

“In the end, we gained a very reliable ally. Isn’t that right?”

Yes, a reliable ally.

Back when Irien was a powerless Princess, that was what she desperately needed most.

She had deliberately let Hilde, her father’s knight, discover her secret, so they could naturally open up to each other.

That’s how she ended up drawing in the other monster Captain, who loved Hilde.

“All for my revenge.”

Boom…!

At that moment, fireworks exploded in the night sky.

Cheers erupted from below, and Irien looked up.

The Capital was colored with beautiful celebratory lights. All the people were celebrating their Queen’s birthday and praising her reign.

Not realizing that their benevolent Queen was using them.

‘Are you watching, Father?’

Her trembling lips curved into a long smile.

‘Everyone loves me.’

Alexei, the great King who ended the civil war, died of a heart attack after just three years of reign.

‘No one will ever avenge your grievance. Never.’

She was the thief who stole everything her father had achieved—without shedding a drop of blood.

The throne, the accomplishments.

Even the people, she took them all.

She never once regretted it.

But…

Irien looked up at the colorful fireworks with indifference, then closed her eyes.

“Irien… Don’t live like me. Go far, far away and live freely. Please…”

If, as her mother wished, she were free—if she were just a dancer on a small stage, not the Queen of a nation.

If only…

“You seemed to be having quite a good time earlier.”

“…?!”

Irien drew a sharp breath and opened her eyes.

The night was still noisy with fireworks. But the voice that pierced the loud sounds just now…

“Camellia.”

She felt a presence behind her where there should have been no one. The familiar scent of tobacco mixed with a chilling voice made Irien shudder.

Turning hesitantly, she saw a man standing tall in the darkness.

Dark skin, a towering foreigner so tall it made her neck ache.

Sand-colored eyes watching her through long silver hair.

“I came to hear your real name.”