Chapter 48. Two People at a Crossroads (1)
The rumor that Prince Yustar and Laila Chrislad’s wedding had been skipped by the king’s will made a full round of the royal palace in less than a day.
The court officials who had been frantically preparing for the prince’s wedding without even thinking of sleep were left speechless in shock, and those who had been dying to catch a glimpse of the so-called witch—though they usually preferred calling her “that shameless woman”—were left dumbfounded by the absurd news.
Sui, the Marquis of Himierd, protested most strongly against King Ord’s decision, but having been banned from entering the royal palace, he was in no position to act.
He wasn’t even allowed to attend the formal greeting ceremony where Laila, now officially the prince’s consort, was to be acknowledged by the other nobles.
Laila had to be woken up before sunrise by Mel’s persistent nagging. She hadn’t even fully recovered from the fatigue of her recent trip to the Adiak branch, but Mel showed no signs of mercy.
“Lady Laila—no, Lady Chrislad! We don’t have a moment to spare! You can’t still be in bed!”
Mel then scowled at the other servants, who were standing in a line with their hands clasped before them.
“What are you all doing? The bell will ring at exactly seven, and the high officials and nobles will come to pay their respects to His Highness the Prince and Lady Chrislad!”
In truth, none of them quite knew how to treat Laila.
She might be the prince’s consort now, but wasn’t she a witch? Not to mention, a commoner unfamiliar with royal etiquette…
No matter how much the prince had personally brought her into the palace, to those who had only ever seen nobles from birth, Laila’s existence was bound to be disconcerting.
She was like a poppy that suddenly sprouted in the middle of a garden full of lavender, laurel, and camellia—drawing every gaze and unsettling everyone.
Whether it was due to her jet-black hair and crimson eyes, or her indifferent and biting demeanor unlike any other lady in the palace, people found her uncomfortable—and Laila was well aware of that.
But Mel didn’t care about any of that. She had received strict orders from the Marquis of Himierd—and from Yustar himself—to take good care of Laila.
Though a servant, Mel sometimes behaved like an old vassal: absolutely obedient to her master’s orders without question. It made her a perfect fit for palace service.
Mel said,
“Still not awake? Move quickly! If Lady Chrislad is late to the greeting ceremony, everyone will be dismissed without a single coin in hand!”
Only then did the other servants spring into motion. Laila, pretending to still be asleep, finally opened her eyes and calmly stared at Mel once the others had left.
“There’s no need to push them so hard because of me, Mel.”
“Lady Chrislad, from today, you are officially His Highness the Prince’s consort. Not just with me, but with every palace servant, you must speak with proper formality.”
“Is that really necessary?”
Mel nodded.
“Yes, it absolutely is.”
In just a few days, Mel had come to understand Laila quite well.
If you wanted her to do something, there was no need for vague reasoning or room for doubt.
If you simply said, “It must be done,” Laila would usually comply. That didn’t mean her doubts vanished, but Mel didn’t have the luxury to care about that.
“I’ll quickly go over your morning schedule, so listen carefully. Once the bath is ready, you’ll wash up. Then the servants will escort you to the toilette room. The dress and accessories for today have been preselected to match the formality. I’ve checked everything—only use what’s laid out on the vanity and shelves. If anyone offers something else, throw them out immediately.”
Laila blinked. For a moment, she seemed like a child who had understood human speech for the first time—Mel found the sight oddly unsettling.
“Would something like that really happen?”
Realizing it was a strange question, Laila bit her lower lip and looked at Mel again.
“I mean… could that happen, Mel?”
Mel answered,
“It’s possible. Though getting into the palace requires passing multiple interviews that could make you faint, that doesn’t tell you everything about a person. There are plenty of people with bad intentions. So don’t be surprised if someone tries to sabotage you. Remember—use only what’s been laid out. That’s the rule. Just for today.”
Laila, deep in thought, faintly lifted the corner of her mouth. It might have looked like a smirk, but Mel knew it was just a habit.
When Mel first realized this, it pained her to think that Laila might have lived a life without anything to genuinely smile about.
“There may be people like that… but you’re saying I can trust you without question. Is that it?”
Mel looked at Laila solemnly, her expression devoid of humor.
“I serve His Majesty and His Highness the Prince. As a servant of the royal family, I serve whoever is part of it. So yes, Lady Chrislad, I will serve you with loyalty.”
Laila couldn’t fully understand that kind of devotion, but she decided to respect it.
Soon, a voice called out that the bath was ready. Mel escorted Laila to the bathroom and said,
“I’ll come for you once you’ve changed, Lady Chrislad.”
“Alright… alright, Mel.”
Using informal speech with people she wasn’t close to still felt awkward for Laila. It was perhaps the hardest part.
As the servants helped her bathe, she remained uncomfortable—staring wide-eyed at the aromatic oil dripping into the tub one drop at a time as if it were poison.
A young maid, watching her nervously, cautiously asked,
“Um, Lady Chrislad… is something wrong?”
Laila snapped out of her daze and looked at her. She was a cute girl with freckles and innocent eyes. Maybe seventeen?
“No, no… it’s not that. I was just fascinated.”
The servants murmured among themselves at Laila’s odd answer but continued silently with their duties.
Standing there in nothing but a thin, wet undergarment while others scrubbed her body was still something she couldn’t get used to. At times, it felt like torment.
But Laila stayed still—thinking, This is their job too.
“Just like I have to pretend to be Yustar’s bride, they must have their own reasons for this.”
And so, she endured the long, taxing morning preparations.
In the toilette room, everything had indeed been perfectly arranged—dress, accessories, veil, even lace wrist decorations. Laila worried someone might try to offer something different, but nothing of the sort happened.
By the time Mel returned, Laila was completely dressed. Her navy dress, sparkling diamonds, the royal family’s sapphire tiara, and the veil draped beneath it were all stunning.
Mel adjusted the lace on Laila’s hand one last time and pulled the veil down to half-cover her face.
“The ceremony itself is simple. His Highness will explain, but to summarize—just sit there.”
Laila blinked through the veil. Since it had a bluish tint, her red eyes didn’t look quite as vivid.
Mel stared at her with an unreadable expression, unsure whether that was a good or bad thing.
Laila asked,
“What do I do while I sit?”
“The officials and nobles will come one by one to greet you and His Highness. You’ll wear a ring on your left hand—they’ll kiss it and offer a short blessing. Then you nod or reply. That’s all.”
Laila had more questions, but Mel was in a hurry, so there was no time.
The other servants followed, holding her train, and Mel walked a step behind Laila—much like she once did for the Marquis of Himierd.
It still felt strange for Laila to be in the marquis’s place now…
“Laila.”
The moment she saw Yustar waiting outside the audience chamber, Laila felt a refreshing breeze pass through her.
It only lasted an instant and she quickly realized it was an illusion, but his smile—his platinum hair cascading over his ceremonial uniform—seemed to light up the gloomy space like a lantern.
“You’re beautiful,” Yustar said.
Laila lowered her gaze, eyes fixed on his face blurred by the veil.
“But people probably wanted someone else to be your consort.”
Yustar smiled.
“You mean someone with golden hair like dripping honey, eyes as blue as the summer sky, or green like pine needles?”
Laila nodded, suddenly feeling a bit down.
“Yes. Someone like that. And not a witch.”
“No matter what kind of consort others wanted for me, it makes no difference to me. And I have no complaints about you being mine.”
Laila looked at him with an unreadable expression and said,
“It’s a temporary union, Yustar.”
Yustar chuckled.
“Yes, that’s true. But the people gathered here won’t know that. So for now, let’s keep it our little secret.”
As he spoke, he leaned in so close that Laila flinched in surprise.
But his lips, his forehead, even the tip of his nose—none of it touched her. Only a strand of his long hair brushed against her veil.
“Hold out your left hand, Laila.”
Yustar said. Still dazed from his previous action, Laila extended her hand. The ring he was holding shimmered faintly in the light.
