When the former Emperor Mihail half-kidnapped his runaway son’s only daughter, his granddaughter, and made her attend the Imperial Palace’s Spirit Ceremony.
Five out of ten people doubted Mikhail’s intention. Was he trying to bring his beloved youngest son back to the palace through his granddaughter?
Three out of ten people thought Mikhail was harassing his youngest son in another way. Wasn’t Prince Yuriev the one who despised the royal family and ran away from it all? And now, he had been chased down, and his daughter was brought back?
The remaining two out of ten didn’t care whether the emperor had brought back his granddaughter or a rabbit with long ears. Flattery or temptation would not work on her if the captured imperial granddaughter was more capable than the Crown Prince Alexei and took the throne, and if the emperor’s intention was not, it would be useless to pay attention.
But at this moment.
Eight years after the small, delicate girl who had shivered in the cold water during her first spiritual ceremony had blended into the capital and grown up.
After the news hit the royal palace that Princess Anastasia, who had visited the northern Sedvoyer territory, was injured and recovering, all the nobles and officials in the capital were holding their breath and paying close attention.
Those who had criticized the little girl’s first appearance and those who had shown no interest at all were now shocked, like squirrels jumping off a tree struck by lightning, quietly observing the atmosphere of the royal palace.
“This is really a big deal…”
A weary-looking official, holding a bundle of documents, said as he walked. His colleague, who was matching his steps with a blank gaze, lifted his head.
“What?”
“Up until now, His Highness the Crown Prince has been lenient…”
After the news that Princess Anastasia was injured in the north reached the capital, Crown Prince Alexei was determined to find out exactly why this had happened. However, what special measures could be taken to investigate an incident in the north from the capital?
…Or so everyone thought.
But Alexei proved why he had been chosen as the next emperor over his uncles.
He overhauled the communication network between the north and the capital, thoroughly investigated the officials and the military to root out those colluding with the Noctis elves, and punished any corruption and crimes discovered in the process.
From the postal service to healthcare and roads, he meticulously inspected and reorganized every gap, creating so much work that everyone was overwhelmed. Yet the officials and nobles held their breath and didn’t dare to complain.
They feared that if something happened to Princess Anastasia, it would be truly irreversible.
“I hope Her Highness returns as soon as possible…”
“How did things turn out like this?”
“If I had known, I would have suggested sending more knights with her.”
“Indeed.”
At first, no one knew. How can you tell if someone is particularly fond of someone else?
If people are close, it’s obvious who cherishes whom. But even those who weren’t close could understand where one’s heart lies by seeing how much gold and silver they spent on them. Isn’t that the clearest measure? By that standard, Princess Anastasia was someone who you might wonder, “Is she really cherished…?”
The emperor and the crown prince didn’t try to gather thousands of pearls buried deep in the sea for her, nor did they try to use thousands of yards of the world’s finest silk for her room’s wallpaper.
Moreover, Princess Anastasia rarely appeared in social circles. Few knew how she spent her days deep within the palace.
The general perception of young Princess Anastasia was that she liked baking in the kitchen, and for some reason, the emperor didn’t let her leave the palace. That was it.
To the power holders in the empire, the bond between Alexei and Princess Anastasia, and the affection between Mikhail and Anastasia, seemed as elusive and uncertain as a mirage.
How could sharing tea, expressing trust, exchanging letters, eating homemade pastries together, and occasionally playing harmless pranks prove that they valued each other more than anything in the world?
How could a well-made apron or a cute little kitchen be a sign of favor and love, rather than the most sparkling jewels, enormous castles, or valuable estates in the capital?
To those skeptical and dismissive people, Alexei had practically declared that Anastasia was the most precious person to him.
By showing that he would destroy everything that harmed her, he had proved his point. Naturally, those who secretly looked down on the small girl who supposedly only cared about baking were shocked.
The official mumbled again.
“I hope Her Highness returns as soon as possible…”
Otherwise, someone might get stabbed to death by Crown Prince Alexei’s piercing gaze…
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“Your Highness, what did the Marchioness of Tataricha say?”
Cyril asked as he handed the tea cup, which Alexei had barely touched, to the attendant. After the Marchioness of Tataricha’s visit, Alexei seemed a bit softer, unlike the icy demeanor he had maintained over the past few days.
“She said it’s okay to punish Natalya Bagration according to the law.”
“Ah…”
Cyril stifled a mixture of a cough and laughter.
Upon hearing that Princess Anastasia was injured in the northern Sedvoyer, and getting no further information, Natalya, as her true friend, had rushed to Karnov’s mansion in the capital.
Of course, it was a futile effort. Karnov was also in the north with Asha, so there was no more news to be had at the mansion. However, unable to contain her frustration, Natalya caused a commotion.
The well-mannered and sensible Marchioness of Tataricha had rushed over and pulled Natalya by the ear upon hearing the news.
“Though the Marchioness said that, I assured her the mansion owner wouldn’t want Natalya to be punished, so it’s fine.”
Alexei smiled faintly. Seeing that expression, Cyril quietly sighed with relief. Alexei always lovingly looked at his cousin and her friends, even when they were causing trouble and bickering.
‘Princess Anastasia… I miss her…’
Cyril, having been by the Crown Prince’s side since childhood, knew well that she had brought warmth back to Alexei. Without her, Alexei’s blue eyes would have been much colder.
The royal palace would have become a barren and bleak place, where words like ‘friendship’ were merely faded myths, and ‘family’ remained as fragmented, blurred inscriptions on ancient tablets. But like a spring rain, Princess Anastasia had suddenly appeared one day, dispelling the barrenness and cold, and bringing spring.
Cyril thought he had always known her value when she was in the palace, but facing this situation, he regretted not cherishing her even more. And no one would regret it more than Alexei.
“Your Highness, you should still take a rest.”
“I’ll rest when Asha returns.”
“If Princess Anastasia finds out, she will be worried.”
“Who caused the worry first?”
Alexei spoke with a playful expression, like a young boy issuing a threat or boasting. It was an expression crafted by his cousin, one he might have never shown otherwise.
“Now, let’s hear how the postal system is progressing.”
Alexei’s mischievous face vanished, leaving only the serene but cool gaze of the Crown Prince. Cyril opened his mouth to speak, then quietly stepped back. It wasn’t his place to make Alexei rest.
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Shamal, the wind spirit, had been a breeze drifting through the royal palace for a very long time. He had seen many kinds of humans come and go as the bricks turned to sand and then back to bricks again. Though they all lived passionately in their own way, from a distance, they seemed similar.
Humans swirling around the great power and wealth at the center. Those who didn’t were quickly gone from the palace. Shamal had always thought of himself as a gust of wind forever swirling in that giant hamster wheel.
Humans had long been unable to sense the presence of a spirit without a contract, so he thought it wouldn’t be long before even this contract was forgotten.
Then suddenly, a girl appeared. One of Mikhail’s many kin, a girl with pink hair instead of the royal family’s typical blond.
The light-eyed girl, who was asleep in an unchildish year, ran through the frozen palace in the cold wind and shed sweet scents.
It was quite interesting to see the rusty scent of the deliciously browned syrup, the warm smell of the scratched vanilla bean, the savory moisture that rose when the cream was boiled, and the moist flavor of the softened butter permeated every corner of the palace and even began to melt people.
Then, naturally, Shamal couldn’t take his eyes off her. Just as his old contractor couldn’t. But before the wind had even noticed, delicate flowers and branches, moss carpets between aged walls, and migratory birds resting on the palace roof had already been circling her.
Shamal readily admitted he was a step behind, even without the little yellow chick chattering bravely. But some couldn’t admit they were just a bit too late compared to the branches, walls, moss, and birds.
His old contractor and his grandson were like that. They couldn’t shake the regret of being just a bit late in recognizing the girl. They anxiously tried to make up for the lost time.
Shamal found it quite entertaining. The little girl, full of a wish to bake pastries, was busy rolling this way and that, while the two men awkwardly tried to follow her, flitting back and forth.
But now, even that sight wasn’t entertaining. Shamal scattered his wind roughly.
<Tsk tsk. What was Phoebe doing, pretending to be the supreme great spirit, while a peach got so scratched up?>
Hearing Shamal’s rebuke, Fafnir repeatedly displayed a red aura and sank it back down, his expression still full of worry.
<Our kid isn’t even sleeping… The peach kid isn’t too badly hurt, is she?>
<Who knows.>
Shamal, the wind spirit of the royal palace, could feel the air shatter with a clang from the incident in the north. No matter how severe the injuries were, their little girl must have been in a lot of pain.
But even such thoughts were vague. To them, human pain were an unknown. And the unknown was always more frightening. That’s why all the spirits of the palace were so restless and anxious about this incident.
They feared that without their knowledge, the little girl might wilt and disappear as many humans they had seen before had.
Shamal, who had seen countless humans pass beyond the veil of time, suddenly felt fear at the pain the girl must have felt, because he sensed he wouldn’t be able to let her go as calmly as he had others.
The ashes left after a fire collapse and scatter even in a gentle breeze. He felt as if he wanted to hold on to every single grain of those ashes.
For the first time, Shamal was beginning to understand the longing for eternity among those who lived finite lives. Perhaps his contractor and the young flame’s contractor felt this even more intensely. Yet, the flame’s contractor, being just and kind, managed his anger from the fear of the girl’s injury without lashing out.
But his old oak tree…
Shamal mischievously laughed and soared high, enveloping the palace. The sudden gust surprised the palace inhabitants, who scrambled to catch the things flying around. The essence of the wind is ferocity. And there was always a connection between a spirit and its contractor.
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The servants working in the palace were well aware of the dozens of strange events that had occurred over the years. So when a sudden, storm-like wind swept through, shattering the palace windows as if they had burst, they were only dismayed by the impending cleanup.
“Her Highness must be seriously injured…”
They knew the reason for such an event.
“I heard it’s not just an injury; there were people meddling and causing trouble in between, which led to this.”
“Ah! No wonder. The one who works at the postal service looked like they were in despair.”
“Postal service? I can see why. It looked like everyone there might get fired.”
“I thought they just sold stamps and delivered letters. What was there to steal at the postal service?”
“What do you mean? Stamps are all money.”
The servants gossiped like that until someone called out that the head attendant was coming, and they quickly turned their attention to cleaning up the glass shards. The head attendant, who was walking with large strides, looked out of the shattered window.
The fierce wind was still howling, making terrifying sounds. The branches in the garden were broken, exposing their insides and swaying precariously.
The head attendant quietly entered the emperor’s office. After meeting with the foolish people who had messed things up, Karnov’s parents, the old emperor’s face was a mix of fatigue and anger.
“Your Majesty, please take a break.”
“I haven’t done anything, but why would I take a break?”
The head attendant silently bowed and then got to the point.
“A letter from the healer who treated Her Highness in the Sedvoyer territory has arrived…”
Before he could finish, a strong wind swept in, causing the head attendant to be slapped by his scarf and lose hold of the letter. The letter was carried by the wind and sucked into the emperor’s hand.
“You should have handed it over promptly!”
The emperor urgently tore open the letter. He read it quickly once, then slowly and thoroughly a second time, and finally reread the important parts several times before letting out a deep sigh and slowly rubbing his forehead.
“How could such a fearless child be born to trouble me in my old age?”
The letter, written by the healer, succinctly described his patient, stating that while the princess had been injured by the claws of a giant cat she had tried to comfort, she was healing quickly and showed no signs of infection or lasting effects. The head attendant murmured quietly.
“Princess Anastasia is Prince Yuriev’s daughter, and Prince Yuriev is Your Majesty’s son…”
The emperor’s eyes widened.
“It’s all my karma.”
“I would never say something so disrespectful. Even the captain of the palace knights isn’t without issues.”
“Even?”
“Your Majesty, how will you handle the corruption scandal at the postal service that was uncovered this time?”
The emperor glared at the head attendant for changing the subject, then spoke.
“Even if only one bug falls into a water bucket, you discard all the water. If all the water is rotten, you need to replace the bucket.”
“Understood.”
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Duke of Sedvoyer and Princess Anastasia returned from the north as the postal service personnel transfer came to an end. Simultaneously, notable figures in the capital sent gifts to inquire about Princess Anastasia’s well-being.
Many had paid no attention to the young princess who rarely appeared in social circles, while some sought to drag the noble girl, who never flaunted her brilliance, into the mud.
Those individuals, now feeling the heat, hurried to the palace, regretting not having sent a gift to Princess Anastasia earlier, knowing that both the emperor and the crown prince were so furious and upset over her injury.
“I never thought the postal service corruption involved the royal family’s collateral branches and that it would be completely eradicated. He cherishes her so much…”
“Look at how only the crown prince and the princess are left in the palace. Isn’t it obvious?”
“The Marchioness of Tataricha indeed has foresight. Natalya Bagration is Princess Anastasia’s close friend, right?”
“That’s why her husband…”
“I heard Lyudmila Shchedrin is also a close friend of the princess…”
The Marquis of Oleg, father of Lyudmila Sheldrin, frowned slightly as he watched the gossiping crowd, careful not to let them notice.
At the same time, a distant memory resurfaced. It was just before he was granted the Linum Yushita. Back then, Princess Anastasia was sitting on the emperor’s knee, growing weary of being held by him for so long.
If there was a place more noble than the emperor’s throne, it would be the emperor’s knee. The emperor cherished the girl so much that he wouldn’t put her down, and yet, people failed to realize how dear she was to him just because she didn’t frequently show her face in social circles.
‘So what, do they need to see an entire principality destroyed and brought to her to understand her worth?’
The marquis grumbled internally, relieved that the returned princess didn’t show any significant injuries.
He had greeted the princess and seen her face; she was a good friend to his daughter. Naturally, his concern was different from others. Moreover, if she had returned severely injured, his fragile eldest daughter might have been engulfed in sorrow once more.
‘But Lyudmila is a more sensible child than Natalya Bagration…’
If Lyudmila had been healthier, would she have stormed Duke of Sedvoyer’s residence with Natalya and turned it upside down? The thought made his heart ache again. If only she were healthy, having a bit less sense wouldn’t be such a big deal…
The marquis found himself praying for his daughter to be a bit less sensible, then quickly came to his senses. If his daughter found out about such thoughts, she might look at him with a shocked expression.
Instead, the marquis repeated the still unfamiliar title, ‘Grand Duchess Pesheranskaya,’ to himself. Any mistake in addressing her would undoubtedly disappoint his daughter, who would wonder how he could get her friend’s name wrong.
