Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.
As the day of the crown princess selection approached, many noble ladies were invited to the palace, and among them was Rohese.
It had been three days since Rohese had entered the palace. The noble ladies, some from foreign lands, others from powerful families, and many from the usual noble circles, had been assigned different courtyards.
Rohese recalled the day she first entered the palace—the Crown Prince, accompanied by the Emperor and Empress, had come to greet them. But after he left, it was as though he had never been there at all.
Doubt lingered in Rohese's mind. The tension between the royal family and the noble factions was palpable. Perhaps the crown princess selection was nothing more than a facade. But who could say for sure?
She took a sip of her tea, her gaze drifting over the other noble ladies, who were strolling through the garden, enjoying the view. The past few days had been relatively relaxing, but in a few hours, the real competition would begin.
Rohese sighed.
"Is something wrong, Lady Rohese?" Princess Adelais Duskmire asked, her voice soft and concerned.
Princess Adelais was from the Western Isles, a distant kingdom near Emberfall. With her dull brownish-blond hair and an innocent smile, she looked every bit the picture of youthful beauty.
Rohese met her curious eyes and replied, "I'm fine, just a little worried about the selection. I'm not sure what they'll ask us to do, Your Highness."
Princess Adelais chuckled, her laughter light and reassuring. "Why worry? I'm sure it'll be fun. Don't fret, I'll back you up if anything happens. You're my first friend here. I won't let anyone bully you."
Rohese smiled, grateful for the kindness. "Thank you, Your Highness."
The two had only met recently when Rohese had been assigned to the courtyard next to the princess's. At first, she had thought the princess too overly friendly, but now she considered that perhaps Adelais was just trying to fit in.
As Rohese turned toward the garden, she encountered Lady Emmette Inagella in the hall. Lady Emmette, born into a knightly family, carried herself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. For reasons unknown, she seemed to have a personal disdain for Rohese, and Rohese, ever the diplomat, tried to avoid any unnecessary confrontations.
Rohese halted in her steps and greeted her, "Greetings, Lady Emmette."
To her surprise, Lady Emmette waved past her and ran toward someone else behind her, completely ignoring her presence. "Lady Seraphina!" she called out.
Rohese wasn't surprised, and though she felt the sting of the slight, she didn't let it bother her.
Lady Seraphina, the first daughter of Duke Filarion Valewyn, was everything nobility was meant to represent—elegance, beauty, and grace. With her pink hair and flawless demeanor, she was expected by many to be the next crown princess, especially considering her close ties to the royal family and her long-standing friendship with the prince.
Rohese continued toward the garden, knowing staying would only add to her stress.
Soon after, Countess Escalant, the Empress's lady-in-waiting, stepped forward, announcing, "Good morning, noble ladies, and welcome to the first evaluation of the crown princess selection. Today's task will be an easy one, as it is the first round. Each of you will be given an object, and your task is to explain its value."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Countess Escalant smiled, gesturing for the maids to bring in the boxes containing the objects. "Now, ladies, please choose a box. You must choose carefully, as you will not be able to change your selection later."
Princess Adelais leaned toward Rohese, whispering, "Carefully? How are we supposed to know what's inside?"
Rohese smiled in agreement.
When it was her turn, Rohese picked a small box, and upon opening it, she found a simple rock inside. Princess Adelais, on the other hand, had chosen a ring that belonged to Marquise Gaufridaus, a well-known noble.
Rohese sighed as she examined the rock. How was she supposed to explain the significance of a mere stone? She had a sinking feeling she would fail the first round, despite Countess Escalant's claims that it was an easy task.
---
In the quiet town of Alryne, Klaire stretched, breathing in the cool morning air. Though the town was small and mostly populated by older residents, it was peaceful and serene—just the way she liked it.
A fashion designer by trade, Klaire had limited resources but had managed to purchase a magic pouch before her escape. She affectionately named it "Bluey," and it stored all her necessary materials—magic scrolls, potions, and fabric.
When she had first arrived in Alryne, she noticed how impoverished the townspeople were. Their lives revolved around agriculture, and they relied heavily on one another. Klaire had opened a small clothing store, offering to accept payment in food if the villagers couldn't afford cash. This had endeared her to the town, and she no longer felt like an outsider. The people here were kind and welcoming.
"Uncle David?" Klaire called out as she entered the house, setting some supplies onto the table.
David, a middle-aged man, rushed out from his father's room. "Oh, Klaire, you're here!"
Susan, David's wife, followed from the kitchen, carrying bowls of food to the table. "Have you eaten yet, Klaire? Join us for breakfast."
"Then I won't refuse," Klaire said, smiling as she picked up a little girl who was wobbling toward the kitchen.
"Hey there, Sarah! Guess what I brought? Your clothes, and even Grandpa's!" Klaire said, setting the girl beside her.
Susan raised an eyebrow. "You've already finished their clothes? You only measured them not long ago."
"These things are no problem," Klaire replied casually.
David raised a curious question. "Honestly, I wonder where you get all that fabric from. I don't recall you bringing much when I picked you up."
Susan swatted his hand. "Does it really matter? As long as she has the materials, we should be grateful. Usually, we'd have to go all the way to the city just to get new clothes."
David scratched his head. "You're right, honey."
Raullin, David's father, joined the breakfast table with a hearty smile.
"Klaire, you should stay for dinner. My youngest son is returning today. I'd like you to meet him," Old Raullin said.
Klaire chuckled nervously. "I'll see if I can."
Susan smirked. "Father, you're not thinking of pairing Klaire with Jake, are you?"
Old Raullin laughed loudly. "Although Jake may not be as accomplished as Klaire, I'm sure if you two meet, you'll like each other."
Klaire's smile faltered, awkwardness creeping in.
Later, as the evening settled in, Klaire returned to her house next door to David and Susan's. She hadn't heard any news from the outside world, which was no surprise in such a quiet, isolated town. Still, she knew that the crown princess selection must have already taken place, and she hoped it would pass quickly.
Klaire sighed, tying her hair up and preparing herself to continue working on clothes for the villagers. The day ahead promised to be long.
As night fell, Klaire heard a knock at her door.
"Klaire!" It was Susan, calling excitedly.
Sure enough, Klaire couldn't avoid meeting Old Raullin's younger son. Seated across from her was a young knight, his brown hair and eyes striking against his slender features and knightly posture. His bright, sunny face made Klaire smile awkwardly.
"This is my youngest son, Jake. He's a royal knight," Raullin whispered.
Klaire's interest was piqued. "A royal knight?"
"Yes! Have you heard of the Iron Shield?" Old Raullin beamed.
Klaire nearly choked at the mention of the Iron Shield.
"Are you okay?" Jake asked, his voice filled with concern. "Father, you're teasing Miss Klaire too much."
Old Raullin laughed heartily. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just proud of my son."
Klaire smiled, wiping her mouth. "I'm fine, thank you."
After dinner, Klaire stepped outside, Jake following her.
"I apologize for my father. He's always like this. He just wants me to marry soon," Jake said.
Klaire smiled. "I know. I won't take it to heart. But are you really part of the Iron Shield?"
Jake scratched his head. "I'm not supposed to talk much about it, but my father can't keep his mouth shut."
Klaire chuckled. "I'm sure he's just proud of you."
Jake smiled. "Perhaps."
After bidding her goodbyes, Klaire headed home, knowing she had a lot of work ahead of her.
As Jake entered the house, his father asked, "What do you think of Klaire?"
David, cleaning up after dinner, said, "Father, leave the young ones alone."
Old Raullin smiled knowingly. "Ah, son, if you don't act quickly, you'll miss your chance. Klaire is a beautiful, talented woman with a good heart."
Jake smiled, shaking his head. "Father, I know you're concerned about me, but with my duties as a knight—especially now that I've just been promoted—it's not so easy to rush into decisions."
Old Raullin pouted, crossing his arms. "I suppose I'll be long gone before I see any grandchildren," he muttered, then retreated to his room.
David gave Jake a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't mind him. Old people are always like that—grumpy. Go on, take a rest."
**Klaire's House**
Klaire lay in bed, her thoughts meandering as she shifted onto her side. On the table beside her, a ring glimmered with a whitish gray hue—a small yet substantial object that had accompanied her for the past two weeks. She propped herself up, her gaze fixed on the ring, her fingers poised above its smooth, polished surface. Initially, she had entertained the idea of pawning it, but something had held her back. Now, a nagging suspicion grew within her that the ring might belong to Eric. Questions swirled in her mind: How had it found its way onto her finger? Had she unknowingly put it on? Could it have slipped into her bag by accident, or perhaps she had picked it up without realizing?
**Prince Alaric's Study**
"Your Highness, there has been a lot of assassins recently. Perhaps it's unwise to keep the Dyrna Ring here," Hugon suggested.
Alaric didn't look up from his desk as he replied, his tone calm and steady. "It's not with me."
Hugon furrowed his brows, puzzled. "Your Highness, what do you mean?"
"I left it with Lunette," Alaric said, his voice betraying no hint of worry.
Hugon's eyes widened in disbelief. "Lady Lunette?! Your Highness!"
Alaric barely glanced up from his paperwork, the corner of his mouth curling into a faint, confident smile. "Don't worry. If she had intended to do anything with it, she would have by now. But it's been quiet. She probably knows better than to interfere."
Hugon, still uneasy, bowed his head. "Still, Your Highness, it's risky to leave it with Lady Lunette. We must retrieve it."
Alaric set down his pen, standing with a measured grace. He strode toward the door, his voice cool and decisive. "Should we go find her then?"