“You will come to the palace immediately. His Majesty awaits.”
The royal chamberlain had said he would send someone in a few days. And tomorrow was finally the said day.
I sat in silence, watching my father as he bustled about, packing my things.
“Len, do you really need to bring all those books? It’s going to be a long journey.”
The day the chamberlain had visited, I told father I’d been invited by a lord of the eastern provinces and would be away from home for a while. Despite his reluctance, he still insisted on packing my bags himself.
“Two books. No more. Pick the good ones.”
What would his face look like if he knew I was heading straight into the capital, the very place he always told me to stay away from?
Truth be told, I’ve always been this way. Reckless. The kind of daughter who’d leave home for months, chasing dreams of becoming a dancer, and begging for money to buy new costumes.
All I did was because I was afraid he would be sad if I grew up independent, afraid he would blame himself if I became a thoughtful and considerate daughter.
So once again, I acted the part of the childish, naive child.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back this time.”
He smiled gently at that. In the ember glow of the setting sun, dust swirled like golden pollen around the books.
“Home, family, even one’s birthplace, are all those things we eventually leave.”
“Aren’t you sad?”
“If I say I am… will you stay?”
“No.”
My firm answer made him chuckle, his expression giving away: ‘See?’.
“You were meant to live free, Len. Never let anything bind you.”
With the light beside him, his profile seemed lonelier than usual. Surely, he had been this kind to my mother too.
I wondered, what kind of face did she make when she looked at him?
They were both orphans, I’d been told, and became each other’s only family. At times like parents, sometimes friends, sometimes siblings, they were always protecting one another.
Once, I asked him. If he resented me for taking her away.
He said I must never speak such words. That my mother, until her last breath, thought only of me. That no one had the right to hate me, not even him.
“…Did you love her a lot?”
His hands, midway through packing the books, froze. His eyes turned to me. But his eyes looked past me, far into some unseen distance.
What memory was he recalling now? What moment he relived before his eyes?
“…Even until now.”
Seeing the face he made, I reached him out without a word. In the silence between us, there had always been one person. That longing always seeped into the warmth of our moment.
I missed her more than ever.
“Len, ohmygods… What do we do? This is the actual Imperial Palace!”
“You’ve been in and out since you were little. Why the fuss now?”
“It’s not the same! I’m officially an imperial dancer now! I eat and sleep inside the palace walls!”
Sylvia brimmed with excitement, flopping straight onto the bed, not caring to unpacking. Despite being part of the Imperial troupe, we were still considered as commoners, so our quarters were no different from the servants’. Creaky beds, moldy corners, it was a far cry from the comforts Sylvia knew. But the way she behaved, made me realize just how much this troupe meant to her.
“On a serious note, what if your parents find out? This place is crawling with nobles who might recognize you.”
“I’ve been out of society for so long because of ‘illness’. And who would ever guess a noble daughter became a dancer? You’ve seen my disguises. The eastern lord always asks if I’m new every year.”
“Well that’s true you do have the best disguise skills in the capital, still… Anyway, let’s set it aside and unpack first. We’re due for a tour of the Empress’ quarter in ten minutes.”
Sylvia hummed as she laid out her dresses. Then, suddenly serious, she eyed me.
“I still don’t get it, though. Why would His Majesty invite you back?”
That was the first thing I’d said too, when I received the summons. But the chamberlain had replied with chilling clarity:
“It is His wish.”
Just like that, he let me know that my question itself was unjustified.
His wish.
Words like a truth carved in stone. No objections. No questions asked.
“Still. Isn’t it a bit too much? He returned a flower with a blade, and then what? Inviting you back like nothing happened? It’s like creating a disease and offering medicine at the same time.”
“It’s the Emperor’s command. What choice do I have?”
Sylvia pouted, then narrowed her eyes, sulking.
“Admit it. The order is just your excuse. You came back to see him, right?”
I averted her gaze, pretending to busy myself with the luggage. In doing so, a pendant slipped from my collar and swayed gently in the light.
“Come on. Tell me. Why do you want to come back?”
The pendant, a butterfly mid-flight with delicate outstretched wings, shimmered softly under a serene light.
Unable to tear my eyes away from its beauty, a whisper of a confession—so faint it was barely audible, escaped my lips.
“Truth is…”
There’s a name I’ve never once let go of. Just like this pendant I wear close to my skin.
A name that was a ray of light in the darkness.
A warmth in my winter.
“Don’t forget. My name is…”
I felt inclined to witness it myself, his face, his expression, his form.
“Don’t forget. My name is… Kaelzeno.”
The name, that owner of the name, burns inside me like an everlasting fire.
A maid from the Empress’ quarter had come to fetch us. She explained that all the palace events like banquets were overseen by the Empress. Thus our troupe fell under her jurisdiction.
“Her Majesty wasn’t feeling well during the last banquet, so she couldn’t attend. She was very curious when His Majesty chose your troupe to be part of the Imperial troupe.”
“We also felt sorry we couldn’t meet Her Majesty back then,” Sylvia replied. Her fervor had long gone, replaced by a more proper and poised noble lady that had been trained.
Leaning back, she whispered hurriedly, “Tour? More like watching us.”
“Watching us?”
Right on cue, the maid ahead of us turned back to us. “Oh, right! Her Majesty also invited you for tea after the tour,” she exclaimed with a bright smile on her face.
A bewildered look adorned my face. Upon the shocking news, Sylvia, ever the smooth talker, responded how she hoped her clothes were appropriate for the occasion.
“I didn’t think she’d move so fast. An empress is still an empress, no matter if she was abandoned to the corner,” she muttered to me, who was in daze.
Having been born and raised in a noble family, Sylvia knew the ins and outs of the palace and its aristocracy. I remembered that among the various things she’d told me before we entered the palace, there had been a story about Empress Reina—Emperor Khainon’s only consort and official wife.
Due to the witch’s curse upon the Emperor, the couple had no heirs. Despite her title, Empress Reina held little real power. The nobles mocked her as a “showpiece doll” or an “abandoned empress”. Although being mocked, surprisingly, she stayed silent.
What could a woman like her have to talk about with a mere dancer?
“Sure, the whole ‘belong to the Empress’ court’ excuse sounds plausible why she invited us over for tea. But think about it. The fact that the Emperor invited and appointed dancers to the Imperial troupe who performed at a not-so-smooth banquet the Empress herself was not at, not to mention the dancers who caused a commotion, couldn’t have been to her liking. Do you think that fearsome Emperor discussed it with the Empress? Even as an abandoned empress, her pride must have been hurt.”
Sylvia’s words kept swirling in my head throughout the tour of the palace. The thought of meeting the Empress on our first day was already daunting, and this awkward situation wasn’t helping either. It made me restless.
I was so preoccupied that I barely paid attention to our surroundings, and when I noticed we were back near the main gate.
The maid led us into a garden adjacent to the Empress’ quarter.
“This is the garden of the Great Palace, specifically the Empress’ quarter. The tea made from the leaves grown here is exceptional. Her Majesty has specifically asked that I serve you this tea, so shall we have a quick tea time?”
A table awaited us in a corner of the garden, then the maid left to prepare the tea.
Taking advantage of the moment, I whispered to Sylvia.
“What do we do?”
“Calm down. You’ve got me. I’ve studied noble etiquette and noble speech for three years. Not to mention noble survival tactics.”
While Sylvia’s confident demeanor put me at ease, the maid had returned with a teapot and teacups. Inside the transparent teapot, an unnaturally vivid red tea swirled, wafting a very, too, sweet aroma.
Soon, a cup was placed in front of me, and Sylvia reached out her hand to have her own.
It all happened in an instant—the cup tipped over and fell onto Sylvia’s lap.
“Oh, no!”
Before we could react, her cream-colored dress was already stained in red. The maid scrambled to help, but it only spread into an unsightly blotch.
“Oh, dear… You are about to meet Her Majesty…”
“I suppose there’s no choice. I’ll go change my clothes.”
“Of course. I will let Her Majesty know you will be a little late, so please take your time.”
“Len, wait for me here.”
I nodded and watched Sylvia’s back as she headed toward the palace. My eyes met the maid’s eyes accidentally. Out of nowhere, she gave me a smile.
What was that?
The panicked and worried girl from a moment ago vanished into thin air. Something felt wrong. The knot in my stomach worsened as the maid turned her attention to a spot behind me.
“Her Majesty the Empress has arrived.”
The announcement sent chills down my spine, stiffing my whole bones and body.
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