“Have this dress sent to the store at this address—it’s where Master told me she purchased it,” Marie said, handing a folded slip of parchment to a pace maid. The young maid took the paper with both hands, eyes wide with obedience, and bowed quickly.

  Marie turned away and returned to the small marble table set in the imperial pace courtyard. The sun filtered gently through the silk canopy above them, casting delicate shadows over the blossoming flowerbeds and the fine porcein tea set between her and Princess Gracie.

  Marie took a sip of her tea, savoring the warmth before speaking again. “My dress was in terrible shape after yesterday’s chaos. The wedding hall was practically a battlefield.”

  Princess Gracie, seated across from her in a pale pink gown with soft ce accents, leaned in eagerly, her eyes gleaming. “Yes, but you looked so brave, Lady Marie! You were like a heroine from one of those epic balds—loosing arrows with perfect precision!”

  Marie chuckled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Your Highness ftters me too much. I only did what anyone in my position should have done.”

  “But still,” Gracie said, clearly not ready to let the matter go, “you protected me and several others. I wouldn’t be sitting here sipping tea if it weren’t for you.”

  Marie gave her a small, appreciative smile, just as the maid she had spoken to earlier hesitated by the edge of the courtyard. The girl hadn’t left yet, and her nervous shifting finally drew Marie’s attention.

  “Ah… Lady Marie,” the maid said, her voice timid and barely above a whisper. “I-I’m afraid I can’t go to the address you gave me…”

  Marie blinked, a little puzzled. “Are the imperial knights still restricting movement for their investigation?”

  The maid quickly shook her head. “N-No, my dy. It’s not that… I just… I can’t read what’s written on the paper.”

  A beat of silence passed before realization dawned on Marie’s face. “Oh… I see,” she said softly. “Then perhaps you can ask another maid to read it for you?”

  The young girl shifted awkwardly again, clearly embarrassed. “I… I don’t think most of the maids in the pace can read or write either, my dy…”

  Marie’s brows rose slightly in surprise. Before she could respond, Princess Gracie gently interjected, her voice tinged with both kindness and understanding. “It’s not unusual, Lady Marie. Most peasants in the empire never learn to read. The pace hires many staff from all over so… literacy isn’t a given for them.”

  Marie’s expression turned from surprised to apologetic as she turned back to the maid. “Oh… I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” she said gently. “In Jo, everyone learns to read and write. I suppose I’ve grown too used to that.”

  She reached into her coin pouch and pulled out a gleaming silver coin, pcing it in the maid’s hand along with the address slip. “Here. Find one of the maids from the west wing, someone who came with us from Jo and ask her to read it for you. Take this coin as an apology for the trouble.”

  The maid’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her hands trembled slightly as she accepted the coin, and she bowed several times in rapid succession, overwhelmed by Marie’s generosity and kindness.

  “Th-thank you, my dy! Truly, thank you!” she excimed before rushing off, still bowing as she disappeared beyond the archway.

  As silence returned to the courtyard, the gentle rustle of the breeze and the chirping of distant birds filled the air once more. Marie took another sip of her tea, her face calm, but her thoughts a little more unsettled.

  “It really wasn’t your fault,” Gracie said with a soft smile. “You were raised in Jo right?, after all. It’s only natural you assumed the pace staff would be as well-educated.”

  Marie nodded, offering a faint, appreciative smile in return, though a flicker of caution remained in her eyes. Though Princess Gracie had warmed to her after the incident, she still seemed to be probing—testing the waters of Marie’s background with curiosity.

  Marie wasn’t sure how much was genuine admiration and how much was an attempt to piece together her origins.

  Still, she chose silence over suspicion. Instead of responding immediately, she lifted her teacup and gazed down at the surface of the pale brew, watching the soft ripples dance with the breeze.

  Then Gracie spoke again, her tone light, but her eyes curious. “Since you grew up in Jo, you must be a follower of the Herptian faith, right?”

  Another probe. Subtle, but unmistakable.

  Marie maintained her serene expression and replied calmly, “Of course, Your Highness. Most of the citizens of Jo are devout followers of the Goddess Herptian.”

  Gracie took a dainty sip from her cup and nodded thoughtfully. “Mmm, that makes sense. I’ve heard that the Herptian doctrine emphasizes indulgence—not just of the senses, but of knowledge as well. They believe the thirst for knowledge is one of humanity’s most sacred cravings, don’t they?”

  Marie tilted her head slightly in appreciation. “You’re remarkably well-read on the subject, Your Highness.”

  Gracie straightened her posture proudly. “Naturally. The Imperial Noble Academy ensures its students are thoroughly educated—especially in matters of theology, history, and philosophy.”

  Marie smiled politely, but inwardly she wondered how much of Gracie’s curriculum was motivated by politics, and how much by personal interest.

  “I see,” she replied, setting her cup down gently.

  Gracie leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharpening with innocent excitement. “So… Lady Marie,” she said with a smile, “why don’t you join the Academy too?”

  Meanwhile, in the West Wing of the Imperial Pace – Ravenna’s Audience Chamber

  Ravenna sat confidently in her seat, her expression composed, eyes sharp with purpose. Across from her, seated with the ease of an old soldier, was Duke Morgen— his armor polished, but marked with the signs of battle.

  The smell of steel and parchment hung faintly in the air between them.

  “The operation went smoother than I anticipated,” the Duke said, resting his hands on the armrest. “The city believes you singlehandedly saved the nobles. You need to capitalize on this victory while the sentiment is still high just like we pnned.”

  Ravenna offered a small smile, the corners of her lips curving with intent. “Naturally, Uncle. I fully intend to.”

  She leaned slightly forward, the sunlight catching in her eyes like fire in dark night. “Let the imperial siblings whisper and gamble all they like—right now, the court is watching me with awe, it’s the perfect scenario to ask for my return.”

  The Duke gave a brief, approving nod. “Just don’t let it slip through your fingers. Reputation is a sword that cuts both ways, Your Highness.”

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