Episode 38
It was absurd. Whether she had been at the duke’s estate or the imperial palace, she had always been isolated. There was no one to call, no one to be with. She didn’t even have the motivation to step outside her room. Days passed quietly like that, and then the day of the banquet arrived.
“I’ve come to escort you.”
Regios held out his hand. He looked stunning—already beautiful before, but now that he was grown, he was dazzling. There had been a time when merely looking at him made her heart flutter.
“Seluna should come with us too.”
“A separate carriage has been prepared for the young lady, so there’s no need to worry.”
He replied smoothly, as though expecting Ephelia to say that. Polite, yet entirely discriminatory. It sounded as if he were saying, don’t try anything foolish—your tricks won’t work on me. And he would be right.
The path their carriage took was familiar. Ephelia sat still, convinced they couldn’t possibly be headed there. But soon, she had no choice but to speak.
“Don’t tell me we’re going to the Grand Hall.”
“We are.”
“The Grand Hall is reserved for the imperial family.”
The Grand Hall was opened only on rare occasions—typically on the birthdays of members of the imperial family. She never imagined they would open it just for her welcome-back celebration.
“You are not unqualified.”
“For now.”
“You don’t like it? Should I cancel it?”
There was no way a banquet about to begin could be cancelled. But with Regios, she felt he might actually do it. Ephelia bit her lip.
“No. Let’s go.”
Perhaps this was the perfect place. Today, Ephelia intended to reject the position of Crown Princess. That was the conclusion she had reached after locking herself in her room.
Regios must be trying to place her back into that role. She refused to be swayed by him anymore. No—she couldn’t live like that. She couldn’t imagine herself at his side.
Although the banquet hadn’t officially begun, many nobles were already present. A banquet celebrating her return—yet because it was held in the Grand Hall, people entered earlier than usual.
“The guests of honor have finally arrived.”
“Congratulations on your safe return.”
“…Thank you.”
The moment she stepped inside, nobles flocked toward her, striking up conversation.
“To think the Grand Hall has been opened—His Highness the Crown Prince must hold you in deep regard.”
The implication was clear—hadn’t she already been designated as the Crown Princess?
“Thanks to everyone attending so graciously. It’s simply the largest venue.”
Meaning: don’t read into it.
“How could we possibly refuse to attend?”
The veiled conversations—each hiding their true thoughts—were exhausting. It was overwhelming.
“We haven’t seen a banquet of this scale in a long time. Perhaps only during the New Year’s celebration.”
“I’m simply grateful.”
Most faces were familiar, yet she had no real connection with them. They only approached her because of Regios’ behavior.
“Young Lady.”
The banquet hadn’t even begun. Yet standing here was already unbearable.
“Young Lady.”
Only after hearing it twice did Ephelia realize she was being addressed.
“Oh—my apologies. I didn’t realize you were calling me.”
“Perhaps I spoke too softly.”
His expression said otherwise—he clearly didn’t understand how she could miss it.
“It’s been a while since I was last addressed that way. I must have forgotten.”
Only then did he seem to recall that Ephelia had been gone for some time. Since she wouldn’t have been called young lady during that period, her excuse was believable.
“Ah… that makes sense. I didn’t think of that.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“But truly, I was so shocked that day.”
“It’s a relief you’re alive.”
They each offered one-line congratulations. For Ephelia, hearing them was tedious. She knew these sentiments were empty, yet she still had to respond politely.
Ephelia gently tugged Regios’ arm. He turned to her.
“What.”
She tapped his arm again, and he leaned closer.
“I’m going to take a short break.”
“The banquet will begin soon.”
“I’ll be back before then.”
“…My head hurts.”
He looked down at her like one would at a child pretending to be sick, then nodded.
“I’ll take you.”
“I want to go alone.”
“I said I’d take you.”
“And what do you think is causing my headache?”
A smile curved at his lips. Whispering to each other like that, from the outside, they must have looked like affectionate lovers. To nobles who couldn’t hear their words, the sight was unmistakably intimate.
“It’s been a while since I’ve attended a banquet. I’m just nervous. I’ll be right back.”
“That makes sense. Please go ahead.”
“Use the Emerald Room.”
It was a lounge reserved for imperial women. The closest resting room to the banquet hall. But that wasn’t the real reason he wanted her to use it.
“Fine.”
She had no intention of going there. But it was easier to nod than to argue. Ephelia released his arm and left the hall. Despite its size and beauty, she felt suffocated. She passed the Emerald Room without slowing down.
“Young Lady Ephelia.”
Of course someone would chase her. Ephelia turned and forced a smile.
“Yes?”
“Don’t you think you’re being shameless?”
“…Pardon?”
“You intend to become Crown Princess?”
She had no intention of doing so. But that wasn’t something she planned to explain to a stranger.
“And you are?”
Irene’s cheeks flushed red. That question made it clear Ephelia didn’t even know who she was—and highlighted Irene’s own lack of courtesy.
“Irene Shanen.”
“Lady Irene. That is not a matter for you to question.”
Her answer implied: you’re being presumptuous.
“That position belongs to Seluna. You were alive this whole time, yet you stayed away—and now you want to take her place? How shameless.”
“Are you Seluna’s friend?”
“Yes.”
“Then I suggest you think carefully about what you’re saying.”
“I’m speaking on Seluna’s behalf. She’s worked so hard, and you’re just swooping in to take the position. You’re shameless.”
Her white hair, elegant dress, and delicate aura made her look pitiable, like a tragic heroine. Acting like the victim. But the real victim was Seluna.
For the supposed perpetrator to feign innocence—it was infuriating.
“If you have even a shred of conscience, you’ll step aside.”
“That is not your concern.”
Ephelia’s voice was calm—almost indifferent. Irene interpreted that as refusal to back down. She expected guilt, remorse—something. Instead, Ephelia’s composure only fueled her anger.
“How can you steal your sister’s position? Are you even human?”
Irene seemed to forget something: that position originally belonged to Ephelia. Seluna had only been chosen because Ephelia disappeared. But explaining that would make her sound possessive.
If only Irene had waited until the end of the banquet. Ephelia planned to decline publicly. But that was not something she owed to this rude stranger.
Ephelia decided to wait for the right moment—one where Regios could not deny her refusal.
Explaining herself here would achieve nothing. Yet hearing such accusations made something inside her stir. Not pain—just a strange sense of realization.
She had truly returned.
“You would do well to watch your words—if you care about your friend.”
They were lucky no one else had overheard. If they had, it would be Irene and Seluna who’d face consequences.
“Stop pretending to be kind. Everyone already knows what you are. A filthy woman who steals what belongs to others.”
“You should go back to the banquet hall.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Once you’re inside, choose your words carefully.”
Ephelia meant it sincerely. But in Irene’s ears, it sounded like shut up. Irene, who was already sensitive about being quiet, felt humiliated by someone who knew nothing about her.
Her temper snapped. No matter what she said, Ephelia remained unbothered. It felt like being dismissed. But Ephelia wasn’t dismissing her—she was simply tired. She had endured far worse than this.
And the banquet hadn’t even begun.
