Episode 40
“L-Lady Celuna. I really did it for you.”
But the only person she could cling to now was her. If Celuna would protect her even a little, take her side even a bit, she could avoid severe punishment.
“You insulted my sister for my sake? You call that doing something for me?”
“That wasn’t my intention, I just… truly…”
Irene answered in a weak voice. Hearing it from Celuna’s mouth made her finally realize what she had done. And the way she was acting now—dragging Celuna into her mistake to escape the crisis—was pathetic.
Why did I do that?
Irene couldn’t understand her own behavior. It wasn’t like her at all. She was timid, always watching others’ opinions.
Were Celuna’s words really meaningless? It felt as if she had been possessed.
Looking back now, everything Celuna had said was vague. She only said she was grateful for Irene’s feelings. Irene interpreted that as a sign—a signal that when Celuna became the crown princess, Irene would be the head lady-in-waiting beside her.
Irene, who had always lacked confidence and was crushed under the weight of not fitting in with others.
But if Celuna became crown princess and she became the chief lady-in-waiting, then even Shafina, daughter of the powerful Count Stiena, would be beneath her.
Just imagining that future made her feel like she could do anything.
But now her dream had shattered. No—worse—she could be completely buried in the social world.
“You should take responsibility for your words.”
Celuna’s tone was cold and firm. Irene realized Celuna would never save her. She had only one place left to cling to.
“Y-Your Highness the Crown Prince, I misspoke earlier. Please, please forgive me.”
Until moments ago she stood proudly against Regios, but now she couldn’t even look him in the eyes. She couldn’t understand what possessed her to act like that. She must have been out of her mind.
Regios looked down at her calmly. The lively banquet hall was now silent. Even the music had stopped. Cold sweat dripped down her back. Her throat felt parched and constricted.
“You’re making another mistake. The one you should be apologizing to is not me.”
Irene exhaled sharply, almost gasping. Those words sounded like an invitation to apologize to Ephelia, but they weren’t. The words he used were different: not “mistake” but “wrong” and “sin.”
A mistake could be overlooked. But a wrong required punishment and compensation—and even then, forgiveness wasn’t guaranteed.
He was a man who weighed every word and understood the difference in nuance. He would not let Irene’s insults pass easily. But Irene failed to understand that.
“Y-Your Highness the Crown Princess. I was just emotional and misspoke.”
Earlier she used Ephelia’s name, now she called her Crown Princess. Ephelia realized then that Irene had spoken purely on impulse.
If any weight or sincerity had been behind her words, she wouldn’t retract them so quickly. Unless, perhaps, she was terrified of Regios.
“I told you to watch your words.”
Regios spoke so quietly only Irene could hear it. She looked up at him. If she hadn’t stood against him so directly, perhaps there would have been a way to fix this. But now Ephelia was her only chance of survival.
“Please, Your Highness the Crown Princess…”
“Mind your title.”
Ephelia corrected her. If she didn’t, everyone would assume she had already been chosen as crown princess.
Countless gazes stabbed like knives. Ephelia could sense their curiosity. They all expected her to forgive Irene.
If she forgave her, she would appear weak—someone who couldn’t even punish someone who insulted her. If she didn’t forgive her, she would become a cruel villainess who ruined a young lady’s future over something trivial. Most people preferred the benevolent choice. Until now, Irene was the villain—but the moment Ephelia refused forgiveness, she would become the aggressor.
So everyone expected her to choose mercy. If she wanted to protect her reputation, she had to.
“I will not forgive her.”
The hall stirred at Ephelia’s unexpected answer.
“You have gravely insulted me, and I have no reason to forgive you just because you apologized. …However, since this banquet is hosted by His Majesty, I do not wish to cause further disturbance.”
She made it clear: she would not forgive Irene, but she would not pursue further punishment. The rest was up to the Emperor.
“Is that acceptable to you?”
“I will follow Your Majesty’s decision.”
“As the victim says so, I have no choice. For disturbing the celebration banquet, you are to remain in reflection for six months.”
Six months of reflection—she would be unable to participate in any social activities. Even after that period, regaining her status would be nearly impossible.
She had done something unacceptable. And the only circle she belonged to was Celuna’s. Having been rejected by Celuna, joining another circle would be difficult. Still, the difference between being forgiven or not was enormous.
“You should be thankful to the young lady.”
Irene bit her lip and bowed again.
“Thank you for Your Grace.”
And just like that, the matter was settled. Irene and her parents fled the banquet hall. The atmosphere remained tense. Regios had created this situation. If he witnessed the earlier argument in the lobby, why didn’t he speak then? Why did he wait until everyone was present?
“Why did you do that?”
“I should be asking why you kept listening to that nonsense.”
“That’s not what I meant. If you saw it earlier, why wait until now?”
“Everyone had to know.”
“Know what?”
“What happens if someone touches you.”
He wanted to make an example.
“So you did it on purpose?”
“Yes.”
He smiled, satisfied with the outcome.
Regios knew Ephelia heard such things often. Every time, it enraged him.
He wanted to rip out the mouths that dared say them. But he believed destiny controlled him, so he had never intervened—only punished from the shadows.
But not anymore. He would ensure no one ever dared insult her again.
“You think this is for me?”
“Yes.”
“How is this for me?”
“You’ll understand soon.”
Then Regios stepped forward and spoke.
“I apologize for the disturbance.”
The one who caused the chaos vanished without a word, and since Regios started it, it was natural for him to settle the atmosphere. Of course, it was all calculated.
“What do you mean?”
“Yes, it was the young lady who caused trouble.”
“It was an excellent decision.”
Their words weighed heavily. Everyone praised Ephelia’s choice. But she didn’t care. If Regios had gotten angry and punished Irene on the spot, she wouldn’t have felt like this. He watched everything unfold, only to manipulate the situation later for something bigger.
This wasn’t for Ephelia. It was for his own purpose—imprinting on everyone exactly what Ephelia meant to him.
And it was effective.
The atmosphere changed instantly. Conversations that were neutral or distant now became positive toward Ephelia.
“You made such a wise decision. As expected of the future Crown Princess—ah, I misspoke.”
The one who approached them was the head of House Cheser, rival of Denold.
“You two look wonderful together. It seems fate has chosen you both.”
From afar, they must have looked like a beautiful, loving couple.
It was intentional flattery. Regios didn’t correct him—revealing his intentions clearly.
“We appreciate your regard for Ephelia.”
“You must be pleased, Duke Miryum. Both your daughters are candidates for Crown Princess.”
“Of course. It is an honor.”
Even at that subtle provocation, Duke Denold only laughed. Ephelia suddenly felt she had to speak now, or lose the chance forever.
She needed to say it—that she had no intention of becoming crown princess again. That they were not fate. That Celuna was the rightful one. That she just wanted to return to her real home—with her adoptive parents.
“Your Majesty, I—”
The situation was spiraling. Regios’ intention was clear: he intended to place Ephelia as crown princess. Her opinion did not matter.
If she didn’t speak now, she might never get another chance. Ephelia gathered her resolve and opened her mouth—
“I will make sure no one ever does such a thing to you again.”
“Of course you should.”
“So I declare now—”
His purple eyes sparkled like jewels—beautiful, but lifeless. As if there were no real emotions in them. With that cold gaze, he whispered in a voice sweet as sugar:
“There is no crown princess but Ephelia.”
