A Necessary Lie
***
Evelta, the Marquis, had been agonizing for days over a single letter on his desk.
He couldn’t hide his bewildered expression in front of the young girl who claimed to be the princess’s servant.
The new princess, chosen by Queen Gilsis for Franz, had been the talk of the court for quite some time.
Rumors had abounded about her naivete and lack of tact—one story, in particular, had spread like wildfire: during her first formal greeting, she had angered the queen by referring to Franz as the crown prince.
Many snickered, speculating that the rumors must be true.
Some of her apparent dullness explained why her brother, the king of Tien, had so readily sold her off to pay for their kingdom’s war reparations.
While Evelta found the baseless gossiping about the young girl, who was barely seventeen, unpleasant, he didn’t bother to reprimand anyone.
He wasn’t openly loyal to Queen Gilsis, but equally had no intention of antagonizing her.
All he wished for was the king’s swift recovery, so he could restore order to the chaotic state of Lotheir.
Therefore, the princess’s request to meet his daughter was both unexpected and awkward.
Cheraan, his only daughter, was the same age as the princess and could serve as a suitable companion for her.
But what puzzled Evelta was how the princess, so new to Lotheir, had even learned of Cheraan’s existence.
He had heard that the queen, displeased with her, had denied her even a proper maid.
Who could have told the princess about his daughter?
Prince Franz or Duke Berzi were the most likely suspects, but Evelta had no close ties with Duke Berzi.
There was no reason for him to recommend Cheraan over other noble girls to be the princess’s companion.
The same reasoning applied to the prince.
‘What should I do…’
Sending Cheraan to meet Judith wasn’t difficult in itself.
The real issue was Queen Gilsis finding out.
Gilsis, ever vigilant in her efforts to secure the throne for her son Krolld, kept a sharp eye on Franz and Duke Berzi’s movements.
If word got back to her that Evelta’s daughter had met with the princess, she would undoubtedly take it as a sign that he had chosen to side with Franz.
This would not only spell trouble for him but also jeopardize Cheraan’s future.
‘Refusing this time would be the wisest choice.’
When the Princess eventually called upon daughters from other noble families, he could feign ignorance and include Cheraan among them.
While he pitied the princess, already out of the queen’s favor, he couldn’t stand by and watch his beloved daughter become a target for the queen’s ire for no apparent reason.
The Marquis began drafting a polite letter declining the princess’s request.
It was the usual excuse—his daughter Cheraan had recently fallen ill and was unable to move around.
“Father!”
There was only one person in the world who could burst through the always-locked door of the Marquis’ study so carelessly.
Startled by the loud bang as the door slammed against the wall, the Marquis accidentally smeared ink across his almost finished letter.
“…Cheraan, my dear.
Haven’t I told you countless times to behave more demure?”
“You’re the one who raised me this way, Father.
Why the sudden change of heart?”
“When did I ever… No, never mind.
Sit down.”
Cheraan, nineteen this year, was nothing like the other noble girls her age.
Her vibrant red hair tumbled, unbound over her shoulders, was the first giveaway.
Although the Marchioness had finally managed to make her wear dresses after several fainting acts, Cheraan refused to carry any fancy accessories like perfumed sachets or jeweled purses.
Instead, a sword given to her by her father always hung at her side.
Occasionally, doubling as a riding whip.
“What were you doing?”
Despite being told to sit, Cheraan walked around the desk, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck as she had done since she was a child.
She then began messing with the papers and books scattered on his desk.
The Marquis, groaning in exaggerated pain, lightly tapped the hands of his now grown daughter.
“You’ll break my neck at this rate.
Is that what you’re trying to do?”
“Oh, what a horrible thing to say!”
“If I were to break my neck, you’d take over the Marquisate, wouldn’t you?
It seems to me you’re plotting to become the head of the family and turn the whole house upside down, you little rascal.”
She leaned her head back and giggled like a mischievous imp at her father’s playful threat.
“I don’t want you to get hurt, Father, but if I were to become the head of the family, I’d certainly make it a lot more exciting.”
Still laughing, she placed a tender kiss on her father’s temple, the gray streaks in his hair catching the light, before finally releasing him from her grip.
It was only then that the Marquis reached for the ruined letter, intending to clean up the mess.
But Cheraan’s quick reflexes beat him to it.
“Cheraan!
Give it back!”
“What’s this, Father?” she teased, reading aloud with a playful lilt.
“To the esteemed princess, my heartfelt gratitude for your gracious letter.
Regrettably, my daughter has fallen ill with an unknown ailment…”
A groan escaped the Marquis’s lips.
Cheraan blinked, confused, then waved the letter in her hand.
“Did I somehow fall ill without knowing it?
What a fascinating surprise!”
“Give it back, I tell you.
It’s a letter for Her Highness the princess.”
“What could Her Highness possibly have said to make you resort to such an outrageous lie?
Of all people, me—bedridden with an ‘unknown ailment’.
Who would believe that?”
The Marquis was furious at his daughter’s nonchalant attitude, but he had no words to retort.
She was right; Cheraan had never even had a cold, not once, from childhood to the present.
When a scarlet fever epidemic spread throughout the kingdom, causing widespread panic, even among the nobles of the capital, Cheraan remained healthy.
“You always told me not to lie to others, but what kind of example are you setting by lying?”
“You foolish girl.
I’m doing this for you.
The princess knows about you somehow, and she’s asking for a private meeting.
If the queen finds out, she’ll turn against you too.”
“That woman, who uses her foolish son to commit all sorts of atrocities, what’s the point of earning her favor?
What good would it possibly do?”
“Cheraan!”
Evelta almost fell backward, startled by his daughter’s unfiltered words.
Although they were alone in the study, he looked around as if someone was listening.
“Watch your tongue!
If you dare speak like that outside…”
“Do you think I’m a fool who can’t even make sound judgments?”
“Ha…”
His head throbbed.
The Marquis rubbed his forehead and lifted his head again, startled by the rustle of paper.
He saw Cheraan folding the princess’s letter and putting it in her pocket.
“You, what are you doing with that?
Give it back, quickly.”
“No.
The princess has personally called for me, so of course I must go.
Isn’t this exactly what you and Mother have always insisted?
Stop being stubborn, go out into society, and find a decent husband…”
“I said go out into society, not to the princess’s palace!
Don’t even think about going there, you…”
“Why are you so worried, Father?
Even if the queen hates me, she’ll just gather a bunch of similar ladies and spread rumors about my marriage prospects.
She’s not going to kill me just because I talked to the princess, is she?”
“Cheraan, please.
You don’t know Queen Gilsis.
You don’t know what kind of rumors are going around in society.”
“You know better than anyone that my reputation can’t possibly get any worse.
Even if I try to act demure now, the men who know me will never propose to me.
Just give up.”
Ignoring her father’s despair, Cheraan waved her hand and left the study.
The nurse, who had just finished her chores and was headed upstairs, gasped when she saw Cheraan with her hair flying loose and quickly hurried towards her.
“Oh, my lady!
Your hair is a mess again!
Did you startle the master again?”
“If I were to tame my hair and wear hairpins, Father and Mother would be even more startled.”
“This old woman can’t keep up with you anymore.
I’ll tell the Lady and go back to my hometown.”
“Just how many years have you been threatening that?
Your hometown is just the next village over.
Stop with the empty threats and come here, Nurse.
I’ll let you do what you love the most.”
Cheraan, holding the wrinkled and rough hand of her nurse, giggled playfully.
The old woman, well-accustomed to her antics over the years, looked skeptical but followed her upstairs.
“What are you trying to do, my lady?”
“Make me look pretty.
Like the noble girls you see in Mishiel Square.
Demure, elegant.
You know what I mean, don’t you?”
* * *
Marianne’s face was swollen and puffy.
Her shoulders and back ached so badly from scrubbing the floor all morning that it was hard to move.
She scooped up a spoonful of cloudy oil from a small container and let it drip onto the floor, then clenched her teeth and scrubbed, determined to tear the cloth apart.
“You still haven’t finished scrubbing?”
The maid who entered the room, seeing Marianne scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees, sneered.
She was about to answer when the maid unceremoniously dropped a heavy basket onto the floor, not even bothering to wait for the oil to dry.
“Hurry up and finish, then take this to the laundry.”
“What is this?”
“What difference does it make to you, country bumpkin?”
The maid, with her venomous tone, disappeared.
Marianne couldn’t hold back her anger and flung the mop onto the floor in frustration.
The princess’s palace had been peaceful until the morning of the previous day.
The arrival of an old woman named Helen, or at least that’s what they called her, with a few maids in tow, was the start of the trouble.
“Her Majesty the queen has sent maids to serve the princess.
Also, until the princess officially appoints a lady-in-waiting, I will serve Her Highness.”
There was no trace of respect for Judith in her words.
The maids she brought with her were even more ruthless, pushing Marianne to the most inconspicuous corners and working her to the bone, leaving her no time to breathe.