Chapter 9

Olivia boarded a carriage to head to her lodging. The room provided for her on the palace grounds was a luxurious guest chamber with windows facing the palace’s main fountain. She had heard the queen had personally selected it for her.

Margo tiredly left for her own chamber with a short “good night,” leaving Olivia to follow a maid to her room.

As soon as the room’s lanterns were lit, Olivia instantly regretted thinking that she’d be staying in mere “guest lodgings.” Even in the faint lantern light, everything about the room exuded luxury and class. At the same time, nothing was excessive or overdone. The atmosphere was actually quite comforting.

As she looked around the room, the maid approached her. “You can pull on this rope if you need anything,” she explained.

Olivia thanked her, then seeing a plate of fried fish had already been set on the room’s dining table, happily took a seat.

The maid lit the candles on the table. “I’ll be back in a moment,” she said, then disappeared without a sound, her movements light and fluid as water.

Olivia stared after her admiringly. Everyone in the palace, down to the servants, seemed elegant.

She finally broke out of her reverie at the enticing smell of food. “Time for a taste.”

Swelling with anticipation, Olivia cut herself a piece of fish and popped it into her mouth. The batter was soft yet crispy, the fish salty and mind-meltingly delicious. “Heavenly,” she murmured, polishing her plate off within minutes.

With her belly full, she took a bath. When she returned to her bedroom, she found that the table had already been cleared and her bed was prepared. She climbed into the cozy sheets that faintly smelled of soap and laid her head on the fluffy pillow. Her breathing slowed as her eyes trailed around the magnificent yet warm room.

“I can’t believe I’m really in the royal palace of Herod,” she thought aloud with a soft chuckle. Her yearning to make it back to Herod had brought her all the way to the royal palace, of all places. She knew that she’d look back on this moment again and again for the rest of her life, the way one revisits the pages of a well-loved book.

She pulled her tired body out of bed and opened her bag. She took out a journal, a fountain pen, and a magically illuminated flashlight she’d designed herself. She brought the objects to the table, then relying on the steady beam of the flashlight instead of the flickering candlelight, opened up the journal and began to write. She slowly wrote about the day’s events, from boarding the carriage at the harbor to entering the banquet hall.

When she got to a certain moment, she paused. The sharp end of her fountain pen seemed reluctant to move on.

She put down her pen and placed her hand on her opposite shoulder. For a moment, she recalled the large and firm hand that had held her there as they danced. She jumped and lowered her arm, blinking rapidly in a fluster.

At first, she had been desperate to run away from that banquet, but she now had a feeling it would be seared into her memory forever—including that helpless moment when she’d been cornered by aristocratic men.

She picked up her pen again, then resolutely wrote the name that had made her hesitate.

“Noah Astrid.” Those splendid syllables rolled from her tongue at the same time her pen finished the final letter. As she filled the pages with her day’s musings, her eyes twinkled with a smile.

* * *

The next day, the first thing Leonard did upon opening his eyes was to check the morning paper.

The entire palace was awakened to his gleeful bellows of laughter.

—King Leonard II Invites Olivia Liberty, First Female Herolington Graduate, to Autumn Banquet

He was positively exuberant. His goddamn brother, Walter Reitwing, was finally pushed off of the front page. The two unfortunately looked quite alike, and each time the king saw Walter’s face in the newspaper, it felt like the journalists were rubbing mud over his own name.

He pointed to the photograph of Olivia standing and the royal family. “See that? Finally, there’s no more room for Walter on the front page! Hahaha!”

King Leonard was ironically obsessed with the press, considering his lifelong wish was to murder whichever idiot invented the camera and bury them alongside every moronic editor-in-chief in Herod. Unfortunately, wealthy commoners held more influence than ever and their opinions now mattered. Needless to say, the founding of the Republic of Faulder had just further accelerated these changes.

If the king wanted the press to quiet down, he certainly had the option of putting royal pressure on the newspaper publishers. But in the end, they cared more about selling copies than appeasing the king.

Leonard sprang to his feet.

“We’re going to the Herolington Gulf!” he shouted to his chamberlain. “I want a picture with the Magic Domes in the background, and another one in front of that golden lion statue in that park where all the commoners go! Inform the reporters!”

Holding out a glass of cold water to the king, the chamberlain quickly replied, “Yes, Your Majesty. Right away.”

Leonard gulped down the water and wiped his mouth with a towel. “If Margo says she’s tired, she doesn’t have to come along. Tell her to rest,” he added, a hint of hope in his voice. “And tell Walter that I don’t want him anywhere near the Gulf today.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

At ten o’clock, Margo and Olivia boarded the carriage that would take them to the royal estate at the Herolington Gulf.

The Astrid’s summer home was located on a lone rocky outcrop that overlooked the sloped shores of the gulf. The outcrop, which looked like a castle from the distance, formed a cliff above the water, but the inland side was even enough for carriages to easily approach the estate.

Olivia pressed herself against the carriage window, gazing out at the glistening sea through the trees lining the road. The carriage slowed to a stop, and she followed Margo as she alighted.

The air was damp and salty from the seawater. Clutching her flapping skirt, Olivia stared at the shards of autumn sunlight scattered across the horizon where three Magic Domes jutted up from the water like white towers. She’d designed them herself, but this was her first time seeing them in person.

“Oliver’s Magic Domes,” Margo said, approaching her.

Olivia gave a hollow chuckle. “Right. Oliver’s Domes.”

Margo’s eyes grew icy cold. “The class system is collapsing as we speak, yet women still can’t hold patents just because of their gender. Ridiculous, if you ask me.”

Just then, the royal guard arrived on cavalry horses leading the king’s carriage.

Turning toward the approaching carriage, Margo added, “Never let go of the evidence that you’re the one behind Oliver.”

“I won’t, Professor.”

“You mustn’t give in, Olivia. I promise there will come a day when you can reveal yourself.” She cast a glance at the young woman, who looked small and fragile, although Margo knew she was anything but. “It will be another first for our world. Though I suppose you’re the first for everything.”

“I’m not that impressive, Professor.”

The princess gave a harsh bark of laughter. “Is that so? You mean the prestigious Herolington University was nothing but chicken crap this whole time?”

“Professor!” Olivia protested, laughing.

Chuckling along with her, Margo shrugged.

The king and queen soon disembarked from the majestic carriage, which was drawn by a team of horses. Olivia hurriedly bent her knees to pay her respects.

The queen acknowledged her gesture with a nod. Leonard’s bushy eyebrows just twitched upon seeing that his sister had come, despite his best efforts to stop her from tagging along. He was, however, wise enough to keep his disappointment to himself.

A second carriage pulled up and Arthur and Noah emerged. The two princes looked radiant under the bright autumn sun. Men in the royal family were usually expected to wear dark suits, which was how Noah had turned up. The smooth, glossy fabric made his legs look even longer.

Just when Olivia thought the party had all arrived, she saw a middle-aged woman climb out of the princes’ carriage.

“Oh, Lucy must have come,” Margo said softly.

Arthur extended a hand toward the carriage and helped a little girl step down. Her bright blonde hair was partially tied up, framing a fair and pretty face with round pink cheeks that made her look like a flower. The girl’s sky-blue dress suited her so well that Olivia found herself smiling before she could help it. She looked no more than ten years old.

The little girl let go of the crown prince’s hand and confidently stood on her own.

She’s so cute! Olivia squealed inwardly.

Margo called out to the girl. “Lucy Therese!” With a warm smile she never showed to anyone else in the royal family, she opened up her arms.

Olivia expected the girl to come running over, but Princess Lucy merely squared her shoulders and chose to daintily walk. Even so, her eyes were lovingly sparkling, making her all the more adorable. Her aunt’s affection was clearly mutual.

Margo ran forward and scooped up the little princess in her arms.

“How have you been, Aunt Margaret?” Lucy hugged her aunt back and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Fantastic,” Margo replied. “What about you, Lucy?”

Watching Margo shower the little girl with love, Noah recalled how he’d received the complete opposite reception the night before. Well, this feels unfair, he thought grumpily as he turned his gaze away.

His eyes landed on Olivia. She was dressed in her usual white blouse and a vibrant and voluminous blue skirt, an outfit that complemented the crisp autumn skies and dark sea. Unlike yesterday, her black hair was partially let down, gently swaying in the breeze along with her skirt.

She was watching Lucy, a smile spreading across her face. The scene was just like a painting, one that Noah couldn’t tear his eyes from.

Margo finished greeting her niece and stepped to the side. She then gestured to Olivia, who cautiously approached the little girl.

The moment Lucy saw the young woman appear from behind her aunt, her mind went blank. She’d never seen someone like this before in her life. Silky black hair, radiant face glistening under the sun—even those exotic clothes. As an eight-year-old girl who’d only ever lived in the palace, everything about Olivia seemed surreal.

Is she an angel? The princess’s lips slowly parted and her eyes widened like saucers.

The angelic woman began to speak. “Greetings, Your Highness. My name is Olivia Liberty. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Wow...

Arthur shot Lucy a stern look when she didn’t answer right away, but then softly chuckled at her stunned expression. “Lucy,” he said gently.

Her cheeks turned red. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Lucy Therese Astrid.”

Deciding that they’d had enough of formalities, Leonard brought the attention back to himself. “This way, everyone. Let’s stand with the Magic Domes behind us.”

His voice changed as he cooed to his little girl. “Come here, darling!” He held his daughter’s hand as they stood next to the queen. Royal family members were required to follow strict protocol even when simply walking down the street, but Lucy Therese was the only one occasionally allowed to deviate from the rules.

Olivia tactfully made her way to Noah’s side just as she had the night before. The chamberlain who was about to show her to her spot nodded with an approving smile. Noah also gave her a curt nod, then closed the space between them, careful not to actually make contact.

“Ready, please!” the photographer yelled as he ducked under the camera’s black cloth. Noah, Olivia, and the rest of the royal family faced the lens.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind carried a few strands of Olivia’s long hair to brush against the prince’s cheek. His gaze didn’t falter. If he swatted the hair away, he knew the photographer would have to take another picture.

There was an unusual fragrance on the salty sea breeze. As a flash burst from the camera and the photographer nodded in satisfaction, Olivia’s hair disappeared from sight, and the fragrance along with it.

Noah watched the young woman scuttle over to Margo. He stood in place, touching his cheek where her hair had tickled him. Then, with a rather cynical smile, he tore his gaze away.