In the early morning, Meryl entered Gwen's chambers with a tray in hand, upon which sat a steaming cup of warm milk.
Then, she advanced and inquired, "Your Highness, did you have a restful slumber?"
The moment the door opened, a chilly gust of air swept in.
Upon closer inspection, Gwen was already seated bolt upright before the dressing table.
Her golden tresses cascaded loosely over her shoulders, yet her countenance remained somewhat pallid, with scarcely a hint of color gracing her lips.
"Schedule." Gwen uttered, ignoring Meryl's question and casually extending her hand.
Meryl promptly grasped the situation and retrieved the paper tucked beneath the milk, handing it over to Gwen while regarding her with concern.
"Your complexion has been rather wan of late..."
Gwen bestowed upon her a gentle smile. "I slept quite soundly. Have no worry."
In truth, Gwen had always been a light sleeper, managing to get only a few hours of sleep and plagued by numerous dreams, often jolting awake in a startled state.
However, the previous night had been an unusual exception, as she had managed a rare peaceful repose.
"Today marks the birthday of the little princess," Meryl announced cheerfully as she flung open the floor-length curtains.
A milky-white shaft of sunlight streamed in.
The little princess was none other than Gwen's younger sister, Dorothy.
A mere ten years of age, she was the youngest lass in the royal family.
"Regrettably, I cannot attend," Gwen murmured as Meryl deftly plaited her hair into an elegant long braid. "Has the gift been delivered?"
"Most assuredly. You prepared it with such meticulous care. The little princess is certain to be delighted."
"I do hope so."
Meryl then placed a resplendent crown bedecked with diminutive silver diamonds atop Gwen's head.
In the sunlight, the high-quality silver diamonds scintillated like celestial stars within the mirror.
When Dorothy was but a wee lass, she and Gwen had shared an exceedingly close bond.
Alas, as the eldest daughter, Gwen had shouldered certain royal affairs at an early age and was thus fated to have scant time to dote upon her sister.
Gwen had been conspicuously absent from Dorothy's growth, and over time, Dorothy had drawn nearer to Prince Freud.
For Dorothy's birthday this time, Gwen was burdened with the task of inspecting the border defenses and was compelled to sacrifice one for the other.
She earnestly hoped that Dorothy would not bear her any resentment. With a soft sigh in her heart, she steeled herself and perused the schedule.
"Is there no other arrangement today aside from receiving Marquis Carlyle?" She furrowed her brow slightly. "I recall that today was slated to be the day for inspecting Yeka Fortress."
"Send for Eli," Gwen commanded.
Eli arrived posthaste.
Confronted with her query, a trace of helplessness flitted across his solemn visage.
"The fortress dispatched someone to inform us... stating that they are unable to receive Your Highness these few days."
"This is a missive from your uncle," Eli proffered a letter.
The seal on the envelope bore the distinctive fire dragon emblem of the royal family of Linsey.
Gwen's uncle was the commander of Yeka Fortress, the youngest general in the Kingdom of Linsey and a member of the royal family, Dean Ackerman.
"Hmph," Gwen snorted with a smile as she employed a letter opener to break the seal of the envelope. "He's really putting on airs."
Despite her words, her expression remained amiable.
She cheerfully selected a simple yet elegant white pearl necklace from the jewelry box, and Meryl, understanding her intent, clasped it around her neck.
"I wonder if he would dare to be so audacious if it were my second brother who came."
Although Dean was her uncle in terms of seniority, he was only twenty-two years old this year.
He and Gwen were very close, more like friends than uncle and niece.
Dean, who was also an ice mage, was her first magic teacher.
Nevertheless, in her past life, she hadn't even had the chance to bid Dean a final farewell.
On the day Yeka Fortress fell, Dean perished in battle.
His residual ice magic had caused it to snow heavily for three consecutive days and nights in the northwest of Linsey during midsummer...
All had claimed that heaven and earth had mourned in unison.
Contemplating this, a sharp pang of anguish pierced her heart.
Fortunately, the gods had taken pity on her and bestowed upon her another chance to set eyes upon Dean.
She read carefully the familiar handwriting on the letter paper and a nostalgic smile graced her lips.
"You just visited Sistine Fortress and now you seek to come to our remote abode. You ought to rest for a few days. Have mercy on your uncle and grant me a few days' respite."
"I shall keep the matter of Sistine Fortress a secret."
Signed. Dean Ackerman.
"Oh?"
Gwen raised an eyebrow.
She had not anticipated that the news of her absconding with Lancaster from Sistine Fortress would reach Dean's ears with such haste.
Just how many spies had he planted within Sistine Fortress to render the fortress of Salir as porous as a sieve?
"Your Highness, Marquis Carlyle awaits in the main hall," Eli reminded her.
"Let him wait," Gwen replied unhurriedly as she rose to her feet and regarded Eli with a faint smile. "I wonder if my valiant knight captain could take his leave for a moment?"
She was still in her nightgown.
With Eli lingering there incessantly, how could she change and receive the marquis?
"Forgive me, Your Highness!"
Eli flushed crimson, lowered his head, pivoted on his heel, and exited the room.
Meryl retrieved a resplendent golden-pink long dress from the wardrobe.
Glancing at the door that Eli had hastily closed, she stifled a giggle.
"Only Your Highness can handle him."
What a nostalgic day.
Gwen felt a warm sentiment welling up within her heart as she listened to Meryl's laughter.
Meryl and Eli were the steadfast servants she had come to rely on in her past life.
They had perished alongside her in the conflagration that had consumed the fallen kingdom.
Until the very last moment, they had remained unwaveringly loyal and had never deserted her side.
Alan was patiently waiting in the front hall.
Beside him was a girl of twelve or thirteen years, with large, round chestnut eyes that were darting about curiously, taking in every sight within the palace.
"It truly is a magnificent royal palace!" the girl exclaimed.
"Mind your manners and refrain from being as heedless as you are at home when you encounter Her Highness the Princess," Alan admonished.
"I know, brother. I'm not a child any longer," Sia replied playfully, sticking out her tongue.
Sia was the youngest daughter of the Carlyle family.
She had been cosseted since childhood and was as innocent and vivacious as could be.
When she learned that her brother was off to see Gwen, she had wept and pleaded to accompany him.
Alan, unable to resist her entreaties, had relented and agreed.
It was said that Her Highness the Princess was the most beautiful woman in Linsey. Was it true or not?
It was rumored that Her Highness the Princess was the most ravishing beauty in Linsey.
Was it fact or mere fancy?
It was also said that Her Highness possessed a benevolent nature.
Surely she would accede to her request...
Sia pursed her lips, a trifle nervous.
"Apologies for the delay," a voice announced before the person came into view.
The gilded door swung open slowly, and Gwen emerged with effortless grace.
Alan and Sia promptly rose to their feet and saluted with all the propriety befitting their noble status. "Your Highness."
"No need for such formality. Marquis, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?"
Gwen nodded slightly, her eyes briefly flitting over Sia before homing in on the matter at hand.
Before Alan could say anything, she continued, her tone measured.
"To be blunt. The situation in your fief is far from favorable."
Yesterday, she read the investigation report of the knights about the surroundings of Wismin City.
There were destitute vagabonds aplenty, meager harvests of crops, and a long list of unending crimes…
The problems were of a far graver magnitude than she had initially envisaged.
More importantly, if she hadn't sent her people to investigate personally, the royal court would have known nothing about these situations...
No wonder that when Lancaster had launched his assault on this region in her past life, with the exception of the army commanded by Dean, which had retained a modicum of combat effectiveness, the other nobles had offered scarcely any resistance.
This was also a crucial reason why she had taken the initiative to propose the border inspection following her rebirth.
If this state of affairs persisted, the very foundation of Linsey would be eroded by these indolent and inept nobles.
Sia was perplexed.
The Carlyle family's fief had always been renowned for its fertility and bountiful produce. So how could it be claimed that it was "far from favorable"?
Her Highness the Princess was being overly harsh!
She seethed with dissatisfaction.
"Yes." Alan conceded with a bitter smile.
"Your Highness has a discerning eye."
After inheriting the marquisate, he had been dismayed to discover that the ostensibly prosperous fief was, in fact, a case of a fair exterior concealing a rotten core.
Reluctantly, he had come to solicit the support of the royal family.
Gwen was merely a princess bereft of the right to inherit. It should have been easier to deal with her than to engage in direct discourse with the two princes... or so he had thought.
With this notion in mind, he had harbored the intention of procuring a sum of money from the royal family to alleviate the dire situation.
Gwen regarded him with a faint, inscrutable look.
"If you find it arduous to govern your fief, the royal family can readily supplant you."
Alan was taken aback, beads of cold sweat materializing on his brow.
"What does Your Highness mean?"
Gwen merely smiled enigmatically and remained silent.
Suddenly, he recollected the Garcia family, whose entire lineage had been mercilessly slaughtered not long ago.
For the royal family, these so-called "nobles" were naught but a title... Without the Carlyle family, there would be other clans.
If they proved incapable of managing competently, others could step into the breach.
He abruptly realized that Gwen was by no means a pushover to be trifled with.
Rather, with a mere few words, she could dictate the fate of their entire family.