It has been 2 years since the day little Sylvia had lost her one and only loved one in this whole world. She grew up. She doesn't look for people's approval anymore. Her training of being a princess continued with with lady Chalis as if nothing had happened. As if nobody got hurt, as if nobody lost anything.
Sylvia had taken her studies more seriously than ever. She has become such a fine young lady. Her posture is poised, her steps are elegant. Even after that lady Chalis somehow finds fault in her and hurts her badly. But she doesn't cry anymore. She knows nobody is going to comfort her, nobody is going to come sooth her wounds. Lars sometimes visits her chamber to bring her ointment and a personal maid has been selected for her . Even though the maid applies the medication to her wounds and it seems to get healed but, the wounds of a heart are always greater than the wounds of flesh. She doesn't need lullaby to fall asleep. She doesn't need to be held close while falling asleep. She grew up. She is 5 years old now. In this heartless ditch of a palace, she doesn't look for love anymore.