The day was bright, with the sun blazing fiercely, casting its intense heat over the land. It was a beautiful and hopeful day for a young girl who had felt as though her life had been dunked in mud, finally allowing her to breathe freely once more.
The wide field was alive with excitement, packed with commoners who had gathered to witness the most prestigious selection event in the history of the Magnolia Empire.
Under a grand tent that provided shade from the scorching sun, the empire's nobles sat comfortably on luxurious chairs, their tables adorned with tea and exquisite desserts. They chatted leisurely, savoring the lively atmosphere while eagerly awaiting the announcement of which young lady would ultimately be chosen as the Crown Princess.
At the front of the field, under another large open tent where all eyes were focused, two young ladies sat on elegant white wooden chairs, exuding poise and grace.
They had just finished answering the final question posed by the last judge, an esteemed scholar who served as the Emperor's spokesperson in foreign affairs.
The two ladies displayed contrasting expressions, as though the intense selection process had drained them of all energy.
One of them, a black-haired lady in a striking red gown, appeared resigned as if she had already accepted her defeat. The other, a ginger-haired lady in a soft cream gown, appeared calm and composed, though a hint of tension and self-doubt lingered in her demeanor.
It's okay. I will win. The ginger-haired lady silently repeated this phrase like a spell, attempting to quell her anxieties and overcome her lingering fears.
After several minutes of anticipation, the Emperor's aide emerged from behind the tent and stepped onto the podium. Holding a crystal microphone that amplified his voice, he addressed the crowd, who were eagerly awaiting the final announcement.
"With the conclusion of this final session, we shall now end the Crown Princess selection tournament by announcing the winner, whom we all know to be Lady Eleanor—"
"Wait."
The sudden interruption came from a voice equally strong and amplified, as though someone else had access to the crystal microphone.
The thousands of commoners and nobles present were instantly taken aback, bewildered by the unexpected interjection.
The Emperor's aide frowned, clearly displeased. He wondered who would dare interrupt him, a representative of the Emperor himself. Inwardly, he resolved to reprimand the guards for allowing such insolence.
However, when he saw who had spoken and recognized the familiar voice, his expression changed, and he immediately bowed in respect.
"Your Highness, the Crown Prince, welcome back," he said, his voice amplified through the crystal microphone, causing gasps of astonishment to ripple through the crowd.
The figure who had ascended the podium and now stood before the Emperor's aide was none other than the Crown Prince, a man rarely seen in the empire due to his frequent travels abroad.
"Have you come to congratulate the winner?" the aide asked cautiously, glancing at the orange-haired lady, whose name he had nearly announced before being interrupted.
"I am here for that," the Crown Prince replied, his gaze fixed on the nobles gathered under their tent and the thousands of commoners in the field.
"I have come to announce that the Crown Princess selection tournament—or whatever it may be—is hereby canceled. As the Crown Prince and the party directly involved, I was neither informed of this event nor will I accept its outcome. If you must assign blame, direct it toward His Majesty the Emperor, who organized this without my consent."
The Crown Prince's declaration sent shockwaves through the crowd, like thunder roaring at midday. The audience, stunned, questioned whether they had misheard due to the glaring heat of the sun.
For a moment, silence enveloped the scene. Then, a noble, recovering from the initial shock, began whispering to their companion.
"Did he just say what I think he did?"
"He declared the Crown Princess selection void?"
"What does this mean for Lady Gwendolyn?"
The whispers among the nobles quickly spread, igniting a ripple of murmurs among the commoners. The once-silent field became a cacophony of hushed yet heated discussions.
Amidst the chaos, the black-haired lady had already vanished from her seat, seemingly fleeing the scene unnoticed. The ginger-haired lady, however, remained seated. Her face was deathly pale, and her entire body trembled violently, as though she had just witnessed a nightmare.
Meanwhile, the Crown Prince, indifferent to the ginger-haired lady or the nobles' protests, continued speaking casually. His crystal microphone still carried his voice across the field.
"Oh, did you bring the green orchid bouquet I requested?" he asked one of his attendants, who promptly handed him the bouquet.
"Here it is, Your Highness."
"Where is Lady Cecillia Emmeline... Ah, there she is."
The mint-haired lady, seated among the young ladies in the nobles' tent, froze in shock and confusion. Her name had just been called by the Crown Prince in front of everyone.
When their eyes met, the Crown Prince walked toward her tent. Stopping before her, he knelt slightly and extended the bouquet of green orchids toward her.
"Will you be my Crown Princess and spend your life with me?" he asked loudly, his voice perfectly amplified across the field.
"Waaahhhh…!!"
The nobles and commoners erupted into cheers, astonished by the unexpected proposal. The tournament might have been canceled, but now the empire had its Crown Princess—personally chosen by the Crown Prince.
To the commoners, this outcome was no different from what they had expected, so why not celebrate it? Such were the simple thoughts of the thousands of spectators watching from afar. The nobles, however, harbored unspoken concerns about the implications of this sudden turn of events. Still, they feigned enthusiasm, joining the cheers while secretly observing the chaotic situation.
Amidst the noise and excitement, some nobles discreetly began leaving, unwilling to stay and witness the unfolding drama. They sensed that greater trouble was brewing and wanted no part in it.
The ginger-haired lady, with great effort, lifted her heavy head to look toward the source of the commotion.
From her vantage point, the mint-haired girl was clearly visible. She was accepting the green orchid bouquet, though her expression betrayed reluctance and unease at the sudden proposal. Meanwhile, the Crown Prince, no longer kneeling, stood smiling warmly as he spoke to her.
The ginger-haired lady bit her lip so hard it began to bleed as she took in the scene before her.
Why? Why does this keep happening to me? Twice... In a row... I've been abandoned... Because of you, Cecillia.
As the mint-haired girl reluctantly accepted the bouquet, she glanced toward the ginger-haired lady. Their eyes met, and the latter's crimson gaze burned with unspoken pain and despair.
Startled, the mint-haired girl quickly averted her gaze and lowered her head, unable to muster a response. Her sudden shift in demeanor seemed to alarm the Crown Prince, who leaned in slightly, his expression filled with genuine concern.
Meanwhile, the ginger-haired lady remained the sole figure seated in the grand open tent. She was now surrounded by maids and knights, who were preparing to escort her away.
At the same time, two men entered the scene—one middle-aged and the other younger—both bearing fiery red hair and strikingly similar features. Their expressions were stormy, their anger evident as they glared toward the Crown Prince. It seemed as though they were on the verge of confronting him directly, only to be restrained by their knights.
Yet, the ginger-haired lady paid no heed to the commotion around her. Her despair gaze remained fixed on the two figures who stood in the distance, their presence glowing as if the world revolved solely around them.
Am I not the protagonist of this world? Is that why I can never be happy, no matter how hard I try to rise again? And Cecillia over there…
Is she the protagonist, the center of this world?
The ginger-haired lady looked up at the sky, the sun shining brightly above her.
If that's the case, God… Could I be the protagonist, too?
I don't care if someone else lives my life.
I just want to see Eleanor Gwendolyn smile with the life she chooses for herself.
Please.