“Your Majesty the Queen, the sunshine is lovely today…”
Completely unaware of what had just happened in the council hall, the maid lifted the curtain with her flower basket and stepped into the queen’s bedchamber.
Lazy afternoon sunlight slanted in through the open door. A breeze scented with flowers set the beaded curtain chiming softly. The maid changed out the wilting flowers in the vase, then glanced at the small hump under the quilt on the canopied bed. A sour ache rose in her chest.
Sophie had once been a lively, adorable little girl. But ever since the late king died—especially since she had married Prince Norren to preserve the kingdom of Aiseya—she had grown more and more solemn, her health steadily worsening. The maid who had watched Sophie grow up could not tell how much of this came from grief for the late king and anxiety for the kingdom’s future, and how much was simply because of King Norren himself.
They were probably about equal.
The maid sighed softly, recalling all that had happened shortly after the late king’s death: the uprisings flaring up across the realm, the sideline royal branches watching like tigers from the shadows, and the envoys from the Kingdom of Lordemon. It was Lordemon that had fanned the flames from behind, then put on the mask of a savior and presented a marriage proposal to the princess. At that time, Princess Sophie had had no chance at all to say no.
Whenever the maid heard the commoners in the royal city praising the new king, she couldn’t help feeling heartsore. Sadly, although King Norren was viciously temperamental and moody, on the surface he acted very amiable. The people only knew the princess was in poor health. They did not know that King Norren had taken her to the snake pit in the deepest part of the dungeons, just to savor her terror. They only knew the king worried over his frail young wife; they did not know that the slightest defiance from the queen would earn her cold, cutting words, or even his fists.
Fortunately, once Lady Natiaveda appeared, the king had at least reined himself in a little. And there was that strange female knight as well… The maid felt that maybe, just maybe, those women could change the queen’s situation.
So now, in a light, cheerful tone, she said to the bed,
“You really should go out and have a look… The weather’s already so warm, and the hyacinths are blooming especially well this year…”
After replacing the flowers, the maid heard movement from the canopied bed. The queen was coughing violently, sounding extremely unwell, each fit laced with harsh gasps for breath. The maid hurriedly lifted the bed curtains—
And froze.
The woman lying on the bed looked completely different, both in face and in figure. She was not the frail little girl the maid expected, but someone else—someone familiar, someone who should not, could not possibly appear here.
The woman who had suddenly appeared was clutching her chest. Cold sweat drenched her body. Her thin face was flushed with a sickly red, twisted in the grip of some nightmare. She struggled to breathe as she called out in broken fragments,
“Where are you… Sophie… Sophie… are you all right…”
“Lady Listinger…”
The maid’s legs gave out and she dropped to the floor.
“How could you suddenly be here? Where is the queen—where has Her Majesty gone?”
She had no idea why the dear friend the queen had searched for all this time would suddenly appear now. Was this disaster or blessing?
Whatever it was, she knew it had to be tied to some evil force.
Panicking, the maid’s thoughts went almost instinctively to the lady envoy—only the omnipotent lady envoy could possibly deal with something like this. She scrambled out of the bedchamber on hands and knees.
“Lady Natiaveda! Something’s wrong, Lady Natiaveda!”
She had just rushed out of the queen’s rooms when she ran straight into the king.
Norren’s face was dark green, as if he had just swallowed a live fly.
“Your Majesty…” The maid forced down the heart that had leapt into her throat. She had no idea whether she should tell the king about Lady Listinger. Before she could decide, a small figure suddenly stepped out from behind the king.
The maid’s eyes went wide.
“Y–Your Majesty… how can you be…”
The king’s expression was terrible. Sophie’s was even worse.
On that small, delicate face was a fury hundreds of times more violent than the king’s usual temper, and a heavy, vengeful gloom of someone who had been framed and was now desperate for payback—or at least, that was how she chose to appear.
The maid, shaking all over, pointed toward the bedchamber. Her mind was still reeling, unable to form even the beginning of an explanation for what was happening.
“Then… L–Lady Listinger… she is…”
Sophie didn’t need anyone to show her the way. She bolted straight into what had once been her own bedchamber.
She yanked the bed curtains aside. The jangle of beads made her glance sideways for an instant—she suddenly remembered. This beaded curtain of colored gems and pink pearls was something she had pestered Listinger to string together for her when they were children.
The moment her gaze fell on the thin figure on the bed, Sophie’s eyes went red.
Norren recognized the woman at almost the same instant.
This woman had once been inseparable from Sophie, then had mysteriously vanished after his marriage to the princess. Now he finally understood why.
“Princess Sophie.”
Shame and fury tangled in Norren’s chest, twisting his mouth into a smile that wasn’t a smile.
“What more is there for you to say? This is clearly a farce staged by you and your lady companion, designed to lure me in. First you used the marriage contract to trick me into handling your rebellions, then you dangled great benefits in front of me to dull my suspicions. But who knew, all those promises were just a smokescreen. You get to wash your hands of everything, and my homeland and I end up the fools.”
“Prince Norren, you are the one who is too cunning.”
Sophie turned her head to look at him, carefully recreating the late king’s expression. A hint of menace glinted in her green eyes.
“You shamelessly seduced my companion. It was the two of you who conspired to steal my kingdom, yet now you push all the blame onto me. Your malice runs bone-deep.”
“Utter nonsense.”
Norren grabbed the woman on the bed by the collar and hauled her upright.
“I have always taken this woman to be you, Your Highness. If you want the truth, then let’s hear it from her mouth right now.”
Listinger’s eyes stayed tightly shut. Pain twisted across her unconscious face.
Norren never expected that the little princess, who had just now used some strange power to break free of his grasp, would again fling him aside with those thin arms.
Sophie pulled Listinger into her arms and snapped at the pale-faced maid,
“Call the royal guards. Have them take her away and keep her under strict watch. She is absolutely not to have any chance to collude with the prince on her testimony!”
“And take good care of her.”
The golden-haired princess shot Prince Norren a complicated look, her voice sharp.
“This foolish girl has no idea that the man she risked everything to protect saw her as nothing but a pawn, and now pretends the entire debt never existed. How can I not worry that you’ll silence her for good?”
Listinger coughed weakly in Sophie’s arms.
—
Leif had learned the punishment she was due from Princess Sophie after Sophie left the council hall.
“My precious royal fleece can’t go to waste,” the princess had declared.
She then ordered Leif to spin the wool into yarn.
Leif had stood there dazed for a moment. She could neither detect the slightest hint that Sophie was joking, nor find any possible grounds on which to refuse the task.
After issuing this command, the little blonde, green-eyed princess had stormed off, full of righteous fury, to hunt down the traitor who had dared to impersonate her.
Once she got back to her quarters, Leif first went to stand for a while in the room where Lily had once lived. The room had been cleaned, but in one corner a half-gnawed red carrot still remained. Leif bent to pick up the carrot. Looking around at the now-empty space, she felt a lost, directionless melancholy about her own future.
Leif could tell that Sophie was absolutely not as forceful as she appeared. Just like that little lamb who had once lashed out with its hooves in panic, she had only done so under crushing terror at the start. But for now, Sophie clearly did not want her getting involved any further.
—No matter how many questions swirled in her heart, Leif still decided that the task came first.
Leif was a poor shepherd girl. She had entertained her share of daydreams—selling Lily’s wool and milk, using the money to buy more sheep, then selling more wool and milk, eventually becoming fabulously rich. But in reality, Lily grew very slowly. It was impossible to make a living off a single little lamb. Back in Edde Village, Leif had often helped wealthy households with large flocks process their wool, and was thoroughly familiar with the primitive craft of spinning yarn.
She had never imagined she would be picking up that skill again under circumstances like this.
This heap of tangled fleece had once carried her hope of wearing a warm sweater in winter. Now, though, every tuft she touched made her think of Sophie’s golden hair—rough and ragged from being poorly shorn. The little princess had gotten angry over that, adding it to past grievances, then hissed in her ear through gritted teeth,
“Did Leif ever consider how the sheep felt?”
“How should I punish you?”
The brown-haired shepherd girl had gone rigid with dread, and so she handled the wool in her hands with even more painstaking care—after all, this was the princess’s noble fleece. If she snapped too many strands, who knew what would happen to her.
When Leif went out to dump the filthy water full of lanolin and dirt, she was startled to see the lady envoy leaning against the doorframe, staring at her.
She almost dropped the basin.
“Why are you here, Lady Natiaveda?”
The lady envoy did not answer. Instead, she asked,
“Miss Leif, has anyone ever told you that your eyes look just like a dead fish’s?”
“Like… a dead fish’s.”
Leif sloshed out the dirty water and straightened with the empty basin in her hands. She had no idea what that meant, but instinct told her it was not a compliment.
“The knight is very focused. Your eyes didn’t move at all just now.”
Natiaveda came inside, set a wool comb and a spindle down on the table, then stepped right up to Leif. She bent close, staring fixedly into the girl’s face.
“Just like a dead fish’s eyes. I’ve been standing at the door for quite some time, and you never noticed.”
“…My apologies, Lady Natiaveda.”
Leif turned her gaze aside, unnerved by how close the lady envoy’s face suddenly was. That brought her eyes to the tools Natiaveda had brought.
“Thank you.”
“I’ve been puzzling over why I can never seem to look away from you, Miss Knight,” the lady envoy said, watching the shepherd girl go stiff from head to toe. “Now I understand. You have a kind of dead-fish-like allure about you.”
Leif: “???”
“Very appetizing,” Natiaveda murmured, swallowing softly.
