"Never!" Queen Elina protested. "The tournament's outcome is clear. How many more contests will it take to prove that Princess Aralia can't even protect herself? How, then, will she protect the kingdom?"
"Her Majesty is right. We should support Prince Dior as the rightful heir to the throne," a few nobles agreed at once. Queen Elina held significant influence, being the daughter of the Alira Kingdom. Many wealthy nobles of Zahava secretly supported her in hopes of securing trade licenses with Alira more easily.
However, a few voices protested already, "but we must give both of them a fair chance. Princess Aralia was on the verge of victory before those invaders attacked her from behind."
Another minister immediately supported it, "Exactly! We have already witnessed her intellect. No foreign affair is resolved without her insight. She has proven her worth—both on the battlefield and in the courtroom. That is why our people want her as their ruler."
"Our subjects praise Prince Dior's bravery too," the Minister of Defense countered instantly. "Have you all forgotten how many battles he has won for the kingdom? How can you forget your savior? Because of his special chivalry army, all the neighboring kingdoms are afraid to attack us."
I noticed the arrogant smirk on Dior's lips as he glanced at me from the corner of his eyes. Queen Elina also looked very satisfied as she wrapped her slender, delicate hands around the King's arm and whispered something in his ear.
Another minister instantly chimed in, "Very well said. Even in the last tournament, he successfully destroyed the goblins' den. Clearly, he is the winner—"
A calm and composed voice interrupted him from the farthest corner of the room.
"Six villagers died due to the fire caused by His Highness, Prince Dior. If he had wanted to, he could have saved them. But he was in a hurry to destroy the den just to win the competition against Her Highness, Princess Aralia."
The young man's gray eyes briefly focused on me before he continued in a grave voice, "On the other hand, Princess Aralia sacrificed her victory to save those villagers from the fire. Is it truly fair to call Prince Dior the winner, Your Majesty? Does a king need to lack humanity and empathy?"
His bold words made the entire courtroom fall silent. The proud smile on Prince Dior's lips faded instantly as he glared at the young council member who had dared to challenge him. His chocolate-brown hair was slightly messy, and the numerous earrings he wore made him stand out from the crowd.
King Orville's face wrinkled as he signaled the court to stop the discussion. Rubbing his forehead, he began speaking in a low voice with his Chief Minister and Queen Elina.
Though I found the youngest council member strangely familiar, it took me a few seconds to recognize him. He was our cousin, Justin Gray. At only twenty-five years old, he had already secured a strong and influential position in the Council of Ministers due to his tremendous intelligence.
No one could win an argument or negotiation against him, and even King Orville had a soft spot for Justin. His mother—King Orville's beloved sister—had passed away when he was only thirteen. Since then, Justin and his younger brother, Bran, had grown up in the palace under the King's protection.
Though I had only met him a few times, it seemed that Princess Aralia and Justin shared a friendly relationship. Even in court, Justin always took my side openly, as if he were challenging the Queen herself.
Noticing my gaze upon him, Justin's calm expression lit up with a faint smirk before he winked at me playfully. I couldn't help but return his smile.
After a long discussion, the Chief Minister cleared his throat and declared, "His Majesty has heard both sides and shall render his judgment after consulting the Royal Wizard. Each of you has presented valid arguments, and His Majesty will give due consideration to all opinions."
Rolling up the scroll in his hands, he added, "The court is adjourned for now. Hope you all enjoy the dinner party."
"Long live His Majesty!"
"May the sun forever shine upon Zahava!"
The council members bowed deeply as King Orville rose and departed from the Assembly Hall, followed by Queen Elina and the Chief Minister.
After the meeting, a royal feast was arranged to honor the nobles and ministers. As was expected, I had to attend the gathering alongside Prince Dior. It used to be our duty to host those kinds of gatherings.
That type of feast was the perfect opportunity to gain the support of the Nobles and Ministers. However, for someone like me—a shy and introverted lady—it was exhausting. I lacked the communication skills to navigate such social events smoothly. From what I had read, Princess Aralia was the epitome of grace and charm, a social butterfly with a silver tongue. Historians often praised her effortless ability to win people over with words.
But I had no choice. I had to do my best to play the part.
Outside the Assembly Hall, Viola was waiting for me. The moment I stepped out, she approached with a small note in hand.
"Your Highness, I found this on your bedside table. It looks confidential and urgent, so I thought—"
"A note on my bedside table?"
I frowned, taking the paper from her with a puzzled expression. "Who sent this? Who delivered it?"
Viola shrugged apologetically. "I don't know, Your Highness."
I let out an irritated sigh. "What the hell is everyone doing? Someone entered my bedroom, and no one even noticed?"
"My apologies, Your Highness. I'll instruct the guards to—"
I raised a hand, signaling her to stop, as I unfolded the note. Before I could read it, my attention shifted to Dior, who had just stepped out of the Assembly Hall. Though he was surrounded by Ministers, his sharp, gem-like eyes flickered toward me, scanning me from head to toe before he turned away and walked toward the Gala Hall, where the party was being held.
Finally, I glanced down at the note. The message was brief, written in neat, elegant handwriting:
"The wait will be over soon, M'lady. I will be back in a few days to fulfill my promise. Stay safe until then."
'Wait—what?! What promise?! Who the hell is coming back?!'
A wave of unease settled over me. My face darkened with frustration and fear. I had no memory of the past. I wasn't even the real Princess Aralia.
How was I supposed to know who this mysterious well-wisher was?
Clenching the note tightly, I took a long, tormented breath. "I wish I could just run away from here right now. Aghh! Being a Princess is even more difficult than being a CEO…"
I stared blankly at the small note, lost in thought.
Viola's concerned voice broke the chain of my torment. "Your Highness, is everything alright?"
"Hmm…"
I gave a brief nod, looking at her as I passed her the note. "Burn it. Immediately."
I started walking towards the Gala Hall when Viola hurried after me. "Sir Killian has returned. I asked him to meet you after the party."
"Great."
After a short pause, I added before leaving the corridor, "Viola, try to gather information about Prince Cyrus."
---
A soft yet energetic piano melody filled the luminous, golden ballroom. Nobles and ministers were immersed in merry laughter and lighthearted conversation. Their family members wandered around in elegant, colorful attire, enjoying the extravagant royal feast.
Most young ladies were here to secure a potential match, hoping to strengthen their social standing. Marriage, after all, was nothing more than a business deal.
In the middle of the hall, I spotted Dior, surrounded by a swarm of young noblewomen. Some were there of their own will, seeking a lavish life; others had been forced by their fathers to try their luck.
A few nobles, along with their families, approached me as well. For the next two hours, I had to play the role of a diplomatic social butterfly. My jaw ached from the constant fake smiles, and I felt utterly drained. Even those who had protested against me in the Assembly Hall now greeted me with forced politeness.
Needing a moment of solitude, I stepped onto the balcony.
The quiet, dimly lit space felt like heaven compared to the suffocating ballroom. Leaning against the railing, I gazed up at the starry night sky and muttered, "Uff! Each of them is like a snake, ready to bite at any moment."
"Exactly, Your Highness."
A calm, familiar voice agreed as a tall, dark silhouette approached. Handing me a glass of red wine, he added smoothly, "Beware of these poisonous snakes."