Rihannan spent a restless night, burdened by worries that plagued her heart.
And then… the night faded away, yielding to a peaceful morning.
Rihannan made her way to the princess’s palace, where she found Helena in a state of considerable shock. As soon as Helena laid eyes on Rihannan, a confident figure amidst the turmoil, she rushed towards her, enveloping the silver-haired girl in a tight embrace.
“Did you hear the news last night?” Helena asked. “What do you think will become of us now?”
“Do not fret too much, princess. Arundell’s king must realize the perils of turning Chrichton into an enemy. He is not a fool,” Rihannan reassured, patting Helena’s back with a comforting touch.
“Do you truly believe so?”
“Yes, and besides, the threat of the Toulouse Empire looms over us. Moreover, Igor has never been fond of Chrichton’s interference in Arundell’s internal affairs. Engaging in an all-out war would benefit neither party.”
Rihannan did not offer hollow words of comfort, for she genuinely believed in what she spoke. She saw no logical reason for Igor to wage a full-scale war with Chrichton, as it would only serve to benefit the Toulouse Empire. Arundell had already inflicted enough humiliation upon Chrichton, shattering their pride and confidence. Igor would surely step back and grant Chrichton some semblance of dignity, perhaps even extending an apology.
Helena’s anxiety began to abate, and she gazed at Rihannan with a profound and searching look.
Rihannan tilted her head. “Why do you regard me in such a manner, princess?”
“It’s because of how you see yourself,” Helena replied. “You don’t believe you belong to Chrichton.”
It was a passing thought, but Rihannan looked at Helena and sighed.
“Princess, that is…”
“Rhia, I don’t blame you. I know you’re not truly an Arundell but a Chrichton. You’ve been reiterating it far too often, but… I sense that you don’t feel like you truly belong anywhere. And I fear that you might end up leaving simply because you don’t know where you fit in…”
A bitter smile played upon Rihannan’s lips. “Where would I go? I have nothing in Arundell. I feel more at home here.”
“Then get married!” Helena exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch. “Marry a man from Chrichton and settle down once and for all!”
Rihannan laughed. “You keep pestering me about this. I have no desire to get married.”
“Rhia, why won’t you marry? There’s a line of noble suitors eagerly waiting to court you! Or… do you have someone in mind? Let me know. I’ll bring him to you and make him beg on his knees for your hand in marriage!”
“I’ll be counting on you,” Rihannan chuckled.
“Be prepared. Once this chaos is over, I’ll introduce you to a new man every day until love blossoms,” Helena teased.
“Yes, yes. Now come here. Your hair is a mess. Let me comb it for you.”
Rihannan picked up the comb from the table as Helena settled into the chair. The princess adored it when Rihannan ran the comb through her hair. She was like a gentle pup seeking affectionate strokes. With her l**trous platinum hair meticulously combed, Helena closed her eyes, reveling in the soothing sensation.
“You know, Rhia, I feel as though you are much older than me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it’s not about your personality. You’ve always been this way. A bit peculiar, I suppose.”
“In what way?”
“Always distant. It’s as if you do not anticipate what tomorrow holds or what the future may bring.”
Rihannan paused for a moment, then resumed brushing, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. She tried her best to emulate the carefree nature of someone her age, but she often fell short. The weight of her past experiences prevented her from fully embodying the innocence of youth. Thankfully, the people in Chrichton helped alleviate the pain that resided within her heart. While most perceived her as a child mature beyond her years, in truth, she had once been an ordinary child—timid, fragile, and prone to tears.
“Rhia, I wish I could stay like this with you forever,” Helena murmured.
Rihannan burst into laughter at the princess’s words. “Didn’t you urge me to get married just a moment ago?”
Helena snorted. “Well, if you do get married, you won’t have to go far away.”
“But what if the princess herself must go far away due to her husband?”
“Impossible. Mother, father, and my brother would never allow it, would they?”
Rihannan nodded. Helena was right. The king treasured his daughter, and her brother held a deep affection for her. They would never subject her to such a fate.
Just as they finished, a clamor erupted outside, and the door swung open abruptly. It was the princess’s nanny, appearing disheveled and distraught.
“Nanny?” Helena exclaimed.
“Princess!” the nanny cried, rushing towards Helen and breaking into tears.
“Nanny, what is the matter? What has happened?”
“Princess, what should I do?” The old nanny rushed towards Helen, her voice trembling with desperation.
Rihannan sensed that something unusual had occurred, and she approached the old nanny, asking, “What is happening?”
The nanny looked at Rihannan with teary eyes and spoke, her voice choked with emotion. “Arundell has demanded a political marriage with the princess in exchange for their victory in the naval battle…”
A heavy silence descended upon the conference room. After news of their defeat, extreme anger had swelled within their troubled hearts. Yet now, only a somber melancholy pervaded the space.
*^^
“But wouldn’t this be a diplomatic marriage? It is not unprecedented. We need not worry excessively,” a nobleman remarked, trying to offer reassurance.
The prince snorted, his response laden with disdain. “Your example is completely misguided. Previous diplomatic marriages between nations were undertaken for the purpose of peace, unity, and mutual benefit. This time, we are being compelled to unilaterally sacrifice our princess as if she were a mere pawn. Do we have no say in the matter?”
The nobleman faltered, sensing the shift in atmosphere, and fell silent.
One by one, the noblemen voiced their thoughts, each expressing their concerns.
“This is an unexpected request, indeed. I had heard of numerous debates within Arundell regarding the king’s marriage, but each time, the king vehemently rejected any proposals… and now, he suddenly demands a diplomatic marriage.”
“What could be the king of Arundell’s motive? I wonder…”
“Our beloved princess belongs to a royal lineage. Arundell’s king seeks a diplomatic marriage. We seem to have no choice but to relinquish our princess.”
As they expressed their opinions, one after another, they forgot about the prince’s love and affection for his sister. Only then did they notice the prince’s countenance contort with anger, causing them to fall silent
Gritting his teeth, the prince said, “Is there no other way?”
Arundell’s king awaited them at the port of Sheviet, a strategically positioned location that could lead them straight to Tars, the capital of Chrichton. Time was of the essence, and Chrichton could ill afford delay. They faced two options: agree to the king’s demand or wage an all-out war, neither of which appeared favorable. Engaging in war would bring more than military losses and the destruction of warships—it would ravage the land.
And then, Duke Ivan spoke up. “The king’s demand… did he specifically request a royal marriage?”
“Yes, sir,” a nobleman responded with a bland tone.
“In that case… it doesn’t necessarily have to be the princess.”
All eyes turned to Duke Ivan.
“What do you mean?” the prince asked.
“I mean, if you possess royal blood… if you are a direct descendant or of royal lineage, aren’t there other royal women close by whom we could offer to Arundell’s king?”
Rihannan.
Everyone’s gaze immediately fell upon Marquis Priebius.
His face flushed with embarrassment. “What on earth are you suggesting? This is pure speculation. The term ‘royal woman’ itself refers to the princess, doesn’t it?”
“No, I don’t believe so,” Duke Ivan shook his head.
“I am well acquainted with the ways of Arundell. It is a nation bound by strict laws and regulations. They adhere to precise wording and expressions in every document, to prevent any future legal implications. If the king intended to marry only the princess, he would have explicitly stated in the document, ‘Send Princess Helena, a direct descendant of royal blood, as the bride.’ But he did not.”
A glimmer of hope began to illuminate their seemingly hopeless predicament. An escape plan emerged, and excitement surged through the room. Meanwhile, Marquis Priebius’s face contorted with disdain. Sending off his niece… for what purpose?
The prince erupted into joyous laughter. “Ah, I see. In the first place, this matter was of no concern. Even if that foolish king becomes incensed because we sent another woman in place of the princess, we can argue that we have fulfilled our promise to send a royal woman. Ha-ha!”
Rihannan spent a restless night, burdened by worries that plagued her heart.
And then… the night faded away, yielding to a peaceful morning.
Rihannan made her way to the princess’s palace, where she found Helena in a state of considerable shock. As soon as Helena laid eyes on Rihannan, a confident figure amidst the turmoil, she rushed towards her, enveloping the silver-haired girl in a tight embrace.
“Did you hear the news last night?” Helena asked. “What do you think will become of us now?”
“Do not fret too much, princess. Arundell’s king must realize the perils of turning Chrichton into an enemy. He is not a fool,” Rihannan reassured, patting Helena’s back with a comforting touch.
“Do you truly believe so?”
“Yes, and besides, the threat of the Toulouse Empire looms over us. Moreover, Igor has never been fond of Chrichton’s interference in Arundell’s internal affairs. Engaging in an all-out war would benefit neither party.”
Rihannan did not offer hollow words of comfort, for she genuinely believed in what she spoke. She saw no logical reason for Igor to wage a full-scale war with Chrichton, as it would only serve to benefit the Toulouse Empire. Arundell had already inflicted enough humiliation upon Chrichton, shattering their pride and confidence. Igor would surely step back and grant Chrichton some semblance of dignity, perhaps even extending an apology.
Helena’s anxiety began to abate, and she gazed at Rihannan with a profound and searching look.
Rihannan tilted her head. “Why do you regard me in such a manner, princess?”
“It’s because of how you see yourself,” Helena replied. “You don’t believe you belong to Chrichton.”
It was a passing thought, but Rihannan looked at Helena and sighed.
“Princess, that is…”
“Rhia, I don’t blame you. I know you’re not truly an Arundell but a Chrichton. You’ve been reiterating it far too often, but… I sense that you don’t feel like you truly belong anywhere. And I fear that you might end up leaving simply because you don’t know where you fit in…”
A bitter smile played upon Rihannan’s lips. “Where would I go? I have nothing in Arundell. I feel more at home here.”
“Then get married!” Helena exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch. “Marry a man from Chrichton and settle down once and for all!”
Rihannan laughed. “You keep pestering me about this. I have no desire to get married.”
“Rhia, why won’t you marry? There’s a line of noble suitors eagerly waiting to court you! Or… do you have someone in mind? Let me know. I’ll bring him to you and make him beg on his knees for your hand in marriage!”
“I’ll be counting on you,” Rihannan chuckled.
“Be prepared. Once this chaos is over, I’ll introduce you to a new man every day until love blossoms,” Helena teased.
“Yes, yes. Now come here. Your hair is a mess. Let me comb it for you.”
Rihannan picked up the comb from the table as Helena settled into the chair. The princess adored it when Rihannan ran the comb through her hair. She was like a gentle pup seeking affectionate strokes. With her l**trous platinum hair meticulously combed, Helena closed her eyes, reveling in the soothing sensation.
“You know, Rhia, I feel as though you are much older than me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it’s not about your personality. You’ve always been this way. A bit peculiar, I suppose.”
“In what way?”
“Always distant. It’s as if you do not anticipate what tomorrow holds or what the future may bring.”
Rihannan paused for a moment, then resumed brushing, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. She tried her best to emulate the carefree nature of someone her age, but she often fell short. The weight of her past experiences prevented her from fully embodying the innocence of youth. Thankfully, the people in Chrichton helped alleviate the pain that resided within her heart. While most perceived her as a child mature beyond her years, in truth, she had once been an ordinary child—timid, fragile, and prone to tears.
“Rhia, I wish I could stay like this with you forever,” Helena murmured.
Rihannan burst into laughter at the princess’s words. “Didn’t you urge me to get married just a moment ago?”
Helena snorted. “Well, if you do get married, you won’t have to go far away.”
“But what if the princess herself must go far away due to her husband?”
“Impossible. Mother, father, and my brother would never allow it, would they?”
Rihannan nodded. Helena was right. The king treasured his daughter, and her brother held a deep affection for her. They would never subject her to such a fate.
Just as they finished, a clamor erupted outside, and the door swung open abruptly. It was the princess’s nanny, appearing disheveled and distraught.
“Nanny?” Helena exclaimed.
“Princess!” the nanny cried, rushing towards Helen and breaking into tears.
“Nanny, what is the matter? What has happened?”
“Princess, what should I do?” The old nanny rushed towards Helen, her voice trembling with desperation.
Rihannan sensed that something unusual had occurred, and she approached the old nanny, asking, “What is happening?”
The nanny looked at Rihannan with teary eyes and spoke, her voice choked with emotion. “Arundell has demanded a political marriage with the princess in exchange for their victory in the naval battle…”
A heavy silence descended upon the conference room. After news of their defeat, extreme anger had swelled within their troubled hearts. Yet now, only a somber melancholy pervaded the space.
*^^
“But wouldn’t this be a diplomatic marriage? It is not unprecedented. We need not worry excessively,” a nobleman remarked, trying to offer reassurance.
The prince snorted, his response laden with disdain. “Your example is completely misguided. Previous diplomatic marriages between nations were undertaken for the purpose of peace, unity, and mutual benefit. This time, we are being compelled to unilaterally sacrifice our princess as if she were a mere pawn. Do we have no say in the matter?”
The nobleman faltered, sensing the shift in atmosphere, and fell silent.
One by one, the noblemen voiced their thoughts, each expressing their concerns.
“This is an unexpected request, indeed. I had heard of numerous debates within Arundell regarding the king’s marriage, but each time, the king vehemently rejected any proposals… and now, he suddenly demands a diplomatic marriage.”
“What could be the king of Arundell’s motive? I wonder…”
“Our beloved princess belongs to a royal lineage. Arundell’s king seeks a diplomatic marriage. We seem to have no choice but to relinquish our princess.”
As they expressed their opinions, one after another, they forgot about the prince’s love and affection for his sister. Only then did they notice the prince’s countenance contort with anger, causing them to fall silent
Gritting his teeth, the prince said, “Is there no other way?”
Arundell’s king awaited them at the port of Sheviet, a strategically positioned location that could lead them straight to Tars, the capital of Chrichton. Time was of the essence, and Chrichton could ill afford delay. They faced two options: agree to the king’s demand or wage an all-out war, neither of which appeared favorable. Engaging in war would bring more than military losses and the destruction of warships—it would ravage the land.
And then, Duke Ivan spoke up. “The king’s demand… did he specifically request a royal marriage?”
“Yes, sir,” a nobleman responded with a bland tone.
“In that case… it doesn’t necessarily have to be the princess.”
All eyes turned to Duke Ivan.
“What do you mean?” the prince asked.
“I mean, if you possess royal blood… if you are a direct descendant or of royal lineage, aren’t there other royal women close by whom we could offer to Arundell’s king?”
Rihannan.
Everyone’s gaze immediately fell upon Marquis Priebius.
His face flushed with embarrassment. “What on earth are you suggesting? This is pure speculation. The term ‘royal woman’ itself refers to the princess, doesn’t it?”
“No, I don’t believe so,” Duke Ivan shook his head.
“I am well acquainted with the ways of Arundell. It is a nation bound by strict laws and regulations. They adhere to precise wording and expressions in every document, to prevent any future legal implications. If the king intended to marry only the princess, he would have explicitly stated in the document, ‘Send Princess Helena, a direct descendant of royal blood, as the bride.’ But he did not.”
A glimmer of hope began to illuminate their seemingly hopeless predicament. An escape plan emerged, and excitement surged through the room. Meanwhile, Marquis Priebius’s face contorted with disdain. Sending off his niece… for what purpose?
The prince erupted into joyous laughter. “Ah, I see. In the first place, this matter was of no concern. Even if that foolish king becomes incensed because we sent another woman in place of the princess, we can argue that we have fulfilled our promise to send a royal woman. Ha-ha!”
