Beatrice had spent the entire morning trying to find a way out of this nightmare.
She had interrogated three servants, two palace officials, and even a poor librarian about whether or not she could resign from her new position.
The answer? Absolutely not.
Her new role as a "companion to the royal family" was not optional. It was a formal appointment by the queen herself, which meant that unless she suddenly developed an incurable disease or got assassinated, she was stuck.
Beatrice groaned loudly into her pillow.
"Why," she muttered, "why does the universe hate me?"
Lily, her ever-cheerful maid, giggled. "My lady, it's not so bad! Serving the royal family is an honor!"
Beatrice lifted her head, glaring. "It's an execution."
Lily ignored her dramatics. "You're expected at court soon."
Beatrice groaned again. She didn't want to attend court. She wanted to disappear.
But if she skipped, Lila would have an actual reason to destroy her.
And so, after suffering through an hour of getting dressed and looking "presentable," she finally arrived at her first royal court gathering.
It was immediately a disaster. The grand hall was filled with nobles, advisors, and members of the royal family.
Beatrice had one goal. Stay invisible.
She quietly took a seat near the back, hoping no one would—
"LADY BEATRICE."
Oh, for the love of—
Beatrice turned slowly, already bracing for pain.
Lila stood across the room, arms crossed, eyes burning with rage.
"You're sitting in the wrong place," she sneered.
Beatrice blinked. "I literally just sat down."
"Companions of the royal family don't sit with the guests," Lila snapped. "You sit there."
Beatrice followed Lila's gaze—
And froze.
She was pointing to the royal seating area. Right next to Francois.
Beatrice almost passed out.
"No," she said immediately. "Absolutely not. I refuse."
Lila smirked. "That's not how this works."
Beatrice turned to Johanna for help.
Johanna looked torn. "It is… technically true, Beatrice. You are assigned to the royal family now."
Beatrice mentally screamed.
She reluctantly stood up, shuffled over, and dropped into the seat as far away from Francois as possible.
He said nothing. Which was somehow even worse.
Beatrice stared straight ahead, willing herself to blend into the furniture.
Then, the doors opened.
And King Marshall Montague entered.
Beatrice had expected an intimidating presence. A cold, terrifying ruler. A powerful, untouchable monarch.
Instead, she got…
A tired-looking man with graying hair who sighed deeply before even reaching his throne.
Beatrice blinked.
This man… looked done with life.
He sat heavily, rubbing his temples. "Alright, let's get this over with."
Beatrice had never respected someone more. The nobles bowed deeply, but the king just waved a hand.
"Yes, yes, formalities, we all know I'm king, let's move on," he grumbled.
Beatrice had to bite her lip to stop from laughing. This was the man who ruled an entire kingdom?
Lila immediately approached the throne, her posture perfect.
"Father," she said sweetly. "I'd like to discuss something concerning Lady Beatrice Da Ville—"
"Denied."
Lila stared.
Beatrice snorted.
The king exhaled. "Whatever you're about to request, the answer is no. I don't care what she did."
Lila fumed. "But—"
"Denied," the king repeated. "Next topic."
Lila looked ready to commit murder.
Beatrice leaned back in her chair, smug. Finally. A royal she could tolerate.
After court ended, Beatrice tried to escape. She made it exactly five steps before Francois spoke.
"Lady Johanna."
Beatrice froze.
She turned her head just in time to see Johanna approach Francois. And, for some reason, she felt a weird tension in the air.
Francois stood perfectly still, unreadable as always. Johanna, on the other hand, seemed… nervous.
Beatrice frowned. That was strange. Johanna was never nervous.
But now, standing before Francois, she looked… hesitant.
"Your Highness," Johanna greeted politely.
Francois nodded slightly. "Lady Johanna."
Silence. Beatrice blinked.
…What was happening?
Why did this feel weird?
Johanna shifted slightly. "I… look forward to getting to know you better."
Francois studied her.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"I see."
That was it.
No warmth. No interest. Just neutral acceptance.
Johanna bowed quickly and left.
Beatrice watched her go, confused. That was the most awkward conversation she had ever witnessed.
Wasn't Johanna supposed to win his favor?Why did it feel like she already lost?
Beatrice turned back to Francois. He was already looking at her.
Beatrice flinched. "Why are you staring at me?"
Francois tilted his head. "You're more interesting."
Beatrice choked on air. "HUH?!"
Francois simply turned and walked away.
Beatrice stood there, having a full existential crisis.
That evening, Beatrice received her first "official" duty. It was a simple royal family dinner.
Her only job? Sit, eat, and don't get in trouble.
Simple. Right?
Wrong.
Because ten minutes into the meal, she somehow knocked over a tray of wine.
It spilled everywhere.
Silence.
Beatrice froze.
The queen sighed deeply.
Lila looked smug.
Francois pinched the bridge of his nose.
The king?
He just let out a long, exhausted sigh and muttered—
"Gods, I need a drink."
Beatrice wanted to fling herself into the nearest fireplace.
The servants hurried to clean up the mess, while Beatrice sat there trying to disappear into her chair.
"I—I'm so sorry," she croaked.
The queen gave her a long, tired look.
"Lady Beatrice," she said slowly, "are you physically capable of existing without causing catastrophe?"
Beatrice opened her mouth, then immediately shut it.
Because honestly? Fair question.
"...Probably not," she admitted.
Lila snorted. "Well, at least she's self-aware."
Beatrice clenched her jaw.
Francois exhaled sharply. "We should continue the meal."
Beatrice nodded aggressively. "Yes! Yes, let's do that. I promise I'll just sit. And eat. No sudden movements."
The queen gave her a warning glance. "That would be ideal."
Beatrice grabbed a fork, determined to at least finish dinner without any more disasters.
She took a deep breath. Picked up a small piece of bread. Brought it to her mouth.
AND IMMEDIATELY CHOKED ON IT.
She slammed her hands onto the table, coughing violently.
A servant rushed over to offer her water.
Beatrice snatched the glass, gulping it down as the entire royal family stared at her.
Lila looked like she was about to die from laughter.
The queen rubbed her temples.
The king just sighed even louder.
"Francois," he muttered, "are you sure she's not some sort of assassin sent to test our patience?"
Beatrice wheezed.
Francois set his fork down. "If she is, she's the worst one I've ever seen."
Lila cackled.
Beatrice glared at Francois. "Oh, very funny, Your Highness. I'm glad my suffering amuses you."
Francois sipped his wine, completely unaffected.
Beatrice grumbled under her breath, turning back to her food.
Fine. Fine.
She would just silently eat and survive this night. She slowly reached for her knife, moving carefully—
And accidentally knocked over a silver spoon, sending it clattering onto the floor.
Beatrice froze again.
Lila burst into uncontrollable laughter.
The queen let out the longest sigh of her life.
The king massaged his temples.
And Francois?
Francois just stared at Beatrice like she was the most fascinating disaster he had ever witnessed.
Beatrice shoved more food into her mouth and muttered: I hate it here.