As they left the training field, the maids, guards, and everyone they passed bowed deeply in respect to their crown princess. From the way they greeted her, it was clear they all adored her. Vesper returned their greetings with a warm, wide smile.
"My princess, the king has requested to see you this morning," Valeria said, reminding Vesper of her father's orders.
Being the only child of the king came with immense responsibility, especially as a girl. Vesper had never lived a traditional, feminine life, even though she was a princess. She had endured many hardships growing up. Her father, wanting to compensate for not having a son, made sure Vesper was raised differently.
At just eight years old, she began her swordsmanship training. She was not treated as a delicate princess but as a warrior in the making. After every rigorous session, she would return to her chambers with injuries, but the royal physicians were only allowed to attend to her wounds if they were truly serious.
Vesper had always tried to live up to her father's expectations, resigning herself to the life he chose for her. Her mother, the queen, had fought for her countless times, pleading with the king to let Vesper be treated differently, to allow her some semblance of a normal childhood. But her father dismissed the queen's protests with cold certainty, claiming it was all for the best.
Despite being a princess, Vesper's childhood was far from the fairy tales spoken about royalty. Her days were filled with endless training, strict discipline, and expectations that was too much for her right from her young age. While other children played, Vesper was thrust into swordsmanship and combat drills. At an age when her hands should have been clutching dolls, they were instead wrapped around the hilt of a wooden sword.
The king was unrelenting, pushing her to fight against seasoned warriors long before she was ready. At just nine years old, she was forced to spar with soldiers twice her size. She would return to her chambers bruised and battered, her body aching from the harsh blows, yet the royal physicians were forbidden to treat her unless her injuries were severe. Her father wanted her to endure the pain, to grow stronger through suffering.
Even within the grandeur of the palace, Vesper felt like an outsider. Her title as a princess meant little when her days were filled with grueling tests of endurance and strength. It was a lonely and isolating existence. Yet, amidst the harshness of her upbringing, there was one bright spot....Valeria.
Vesper first met Valeria when she was just eight years old. Valeria, almost two years older, was a scrappy and defiant girl who had grown up in the harsh streets outside the capital. She had been caught stealing food on the outskirts of town, desperate to survive. When she was brought before the king, the guards had expected a severe punishment. Instead, to everyone's surprise, the king pardoned her after learning she was an orphan with nowhere to go.
Perhaps out of a rare moment of mercy, or perhaps seeing potential in her fiery spirit, the king allowed Valeria to live among the palace maids.
Vesper remembered the day vividly. She had been training in the courtyard, her small hands trembling under the weight of a sword too big for her, when she spotted Valeria for the first time. The girl was standing at the edge of the training grounds, her blonde hair wild and untamed, her eyes darting around with a mix of fear and defiance. She was thin, her clothes worn and patched, yet she held herself with surprising confidence for someone who had just been spared a punishment.
Curious, Vesper had approached her despite her father's strict rules about making friends.
"Who are you?" she had asked, her voice soft but filled with curiosity.
Valeria had straightened her back, meeting Vesper's gaze without flinching. "I'm Valeria," she said simply.
That brief exchange marked the beginning of their bond. Over time, the two grew closer. Despite their differences, one a crown princess burdened with responsibility, the other an orphan with nothing to her name. They found comfort in each other's company.
The king, impressed by Valeria's natural agility and quick thinking, decided to train her alongside Vesper. While others saw it as a punishment for Valeria, she embraced the opportunity, determined to prove she was more than just a girl from the streets.
Their shared training sessions soon turned into a deep friendship. Valeria brought laughter and a sense of normalcy into Vesper's otherwise rigid and lonely life. She would tell Vesper stories about the world beyond the palace walls, about the bustling markets and starry nights she had seen. Vesper, in turn, shared her dreams of freedom, of one day escaping the weight of the crown.
Valeria wasn't just a friend, she became Vesper's shield against the harshness of her upbringing. She would sneak into Vesper's chambers at night to help tend to her wounds when the royal physicians refused, saying words of encouragement that kept Vesper going.
Though their paths to the palace had been vastly different, Valeria became the one person Vesper could truly rely on.
"Selene, accompany Daphne and gather the Iron Sisters in the secret room. Valeria and I will go to see Father now," Princess Vesper commanded, her tone firm yet calm.
"We'll see to it immediately, Your Highness," Selene replied, both women bowing lightly before departing to carry out the orders.
Princess Vesper and Valeria made their way to the grand palace. The echo of their boots against the polished marble floors seemed louder than usual. As they entered the throne chamber, their presence was announced. King Ardyn, Vesper's father, stood with his back to them, his hands clasped tightly behind him. His imposing figure was framthe the ed by the towering windows that bathed the room in cold morning light, adding an air of severity to the atmosphere.
The two women stepped forward and bowed deeply in unison.
"Father," Vesper began, her voice steady but laced with caution, "you summoned me. I am here as requested."
For a moment, the King remained silent, his gaze fixed on the ornate throne that dominated the room. The throne, an imposing masterpiece of gold and crimson, was both a symbol of Marlenia's might and a heavy reminder of the burden it imposed. When King Ardyn finally turned to face them, his expression was grave yet tinged with an unexpected softness, his piercing gaze resting on Vesper.
"Tell me, Vesper," he began, his tone uncharacteristically contemplative. "Have I been too harsh on you?"
The question caught Vesper off guard. Her brows knit together slightly, but she held her composure. "Father, I..." she started, but he raised a hand to stop her.
"It's because of the throne," he said, his voice low but steady, as though he were speaking more to himself than to her. "You will be the first woman to sit on it, the first to wield its power openly. Do you know what that means? What it demands? The royal court already scrutinizes you more than any man who came before. To lead, you must prove yourself time and time again." His gaze hardened, and the warmth in his tone faded. "What better way to silence them all than to end this centuries-old rivalry with Everia? You have a chance now, Vesper. A chance to carve your name into history."
Vesper felt a cold knot forming in her stomach, but she kept her face impassive. "Father, I..."
"This is not the first time you've had such a chance," King Ardyn interrupted, his words sharp but deliberately vague. "Though few know the truth of what happened, I do. And so does Valeria." His gaze flicked briefly to Valeria, who remained stoic but tense. "You can redeem yourself now."
The insinuation hung in the air, heavy and electric. The duel. The prince. The shadow of that moment loomed over her, a phantom she could not fully escape. Vesper's jaw tightened, but she gave nothing away, her gaze dropping momentarily to the throne as if it might offer some answer to the storm raging inside her.
"What is your plan?" the King asked finally, his voice cutting through her thoughts like a blade.
Vesper straightened, her green eyes meeting his unwaveringly. "Father, the princes will undoubtedly be prepared for any attempt on their lives," she began, her tone careful, each word deliberate. "They are cunning and well-guarded. Engaging them directly could lead to unnecessary loss and..."
"Enough," King Ardyn said, his tone sharp and final. "Prepared or not, it is our duty to strike. There can be no half-measures this time."
"Father," Vesper began again, her voice softer but resolute, "there may be other ways to weaken Everia without shedding blood recklessly. A different path could..."
"Spare me your notions of diplomacy," he snapped, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. "This is not a debate, Vesper. You are the Crown Princess of Marlenia, and you will see this through. The survival of this kingdom depends on it." His imposing figure cast a long shadow over her, each word pressing down like the weight of the throne itself.
Vesper's lips parted, but the words she wished to speak caught in her throat. Her father silenced her with a single, commanding gesture, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. His gaze flicked momentarily to Valeria, who stood silent and still beside her, then returned to Vesper, heavy with unspoken meaning.
"This time," he said, his voice dropping lower, each word deliberate and cutting, "there will be no shadows to hide in. No unseen hands to do what must be done. This time, the princes must fall by your blade, and yours alone. You will not repeat what happened before." His tone shifted, colder now, carrying a weight of unspoken accusation and expectation. "Fail me again, and there will be no forgiveness."
Vesper's gaze dropped again to the throne, her green eyes betraying nothing of the storm within her. But as the silence stretched, she finally lifted her head, her gaze shifting to Valeria. It lingered there, unspoken questions and emotions passi,ng between them. Valeria met her gaze with a gentle encouraging smile, though the faintest tension in her posture hinted at the weight of words the King has just spoken.