The Ring of Bwendia
"There's no need to look so startled, my lady. If one makes use of a person, one ought to pay them properly."
Henrik, who had been watching me with wide eyes, let a faint smile touch his lips. In that characteristic low, level voice of his, he explained.
"You kept your promise, so I shall keep one of mine as well. As long as you don't betray me first, I will have no reason to interrogate you."
The ring gleamed with the same fine luster as the black marble that adorned this prince's palace—perhaps, I thought, it was some special historical relic handed down through this royal house.
"Ah, what a precious promise you've granted me, Your Highness."
I closed my parted lips and carefully composed my expression, determined not to look bewildered a moment longer.
This back-and-forth was exactly what an ideal exchange should be. If I chose to see it positively, all I had to do was accept what was given.
"It is a ring imbued with the magic of Bwendia. It is yours now."
Bwendia—the name of the legendary Black Dragon said to have founded this very kingdom.
As I looked down at the black ring, I found myself wondering what manner of magic the dragon had wielded. Could it be a power different from the one my mother had passed down to me?
"Just as the Prince says. It may not be the famous Sacred Covenant the world speaks of, but it will serve well enough as a guarantee of your promise—so rest easy, Prince Bi."
"Must you go out of your way to say that, Sir?"
Henrik didn't rebuke the knight for adding his explanation; he merely chuckled softly, keeping his composed air.
Watching the two of them, who seemed so familiar with each other, I blinked a few times. It wasn't because the morning sunlight was too bright.
The Sacred Covenant—I had heard my mother mention it once in passing. A magic by which two people swore before a great god to keep a promise forever.
I seemed to recall hearing that breaking such a covenant brought a merciless punishment from which there was no escape.
"Your Highness. I will receive it with true gratitude."
However much magic might be at work, for someone like me who truly possessed nothing, this would serve as an excellent guarantee.
Perhaps then even the maids who watched me so closely here—and the people I would meet at the banquet celebrating my marriage to Henrik—might not sneer at me quite so openly.
Having expressed my thanks to Henrik, I resolved to act a little more proactively myself.
And so, as I was weighing various moves—considering just how I ought to carry out my role—
"My lady. I'm told the wedding will be prepared soon. My family will attend the commemorative banquet, so it should be quite the grand affair."
The occasion Henrik had mentioned was no mere wedding ceremony to me. It was, for all intents and purposes, the stage on which I would be revealed to this kingdom for the first time.
How I took that first step mattered enormously. There was only one objective: to seat Henrik safely upon the throne so that he would be of use to me. I nodded and answered.
"Yes, Your Highness. I shall make every preparation as well."
Henrik's family consisted of the King, the princes contending for the succession, and a single younger sister. No one in such a company would show me any genuine goodwill. The tag that followed me around, after all, was hardly an ordinary one.
But it didn't matter. I steeled my heart, resolved to gather whatever information at that banquet might prove useful to me.
"Princess Bi, please wear this accessory today. It is your wedding commemoration banquet, so I believe you ought to dress splendidly."
"I think these flowers suit Your Highness's hair beautifully."
"Those will do."
I set the rose-shaped ornament in my hair, wound a wide swath of pristine lace about my bodice, slipped into a dress with a sweeping skirt, and fastened a golden belt around my waist.
"Gold is a color reserved for those of high birth, Your Highness."
When I tilted my head in puzzlement—never once had I worn such a belt in the Kingdom of Francia—the head maid explained gently.
Whatever the maids assigned to me thought in their hearts, they maintained such impeccable courtesy that it made my life considerably easier.
"Your Highness, the Prince is waiting for you. It is time to go."
Thus adorned in the full style of the Kingdom of Bwędowska, I followed the maid's lead until we arrived before the banquet hall. Just as she had said, Henrik stood waiting in front of its massive, magnificent doors.
"You've prepared yourself well, my lady."
I did not take his words as simple praise. Seeing myself dressed in the Bwędowska style still felt slightly foreign, and more than anything, this occasion struck me as a battlefield. It must have for Henrik as well.
To any observer, he looked like a husband offering his grown bride an affectionate word of admiration—yet a cold undertone still threaded through his voice.
"His Highness Prince Henrik, the Second Prince, and Her Highness the Princess Consort are entering."
When the servant standing at the doors announced them in a great voice, a trumpet rang out—a long, resounding blast. From the very entrance, this was a banquet of grandeur and splendor.
Stepping into the hall, the first things to greet me were an overwhelming perfume of flowers, the scent of fragrant oils, and chandeliers so brilliant I nearly went blind. Dense shards of light rained down from the ceiling.
Wow… I instinctively suppressed the gasp that threatened to escape. The banquets of Francia had been lavish too, in truth—but I had experienced so few of them.
This kingdom was clearly quite wealthy. At the same time, I realized that this splendor was itself a symbol of the authority Henrik commanded here.
And yet, amid it all, I remained a powerless outsider still.
"I ought to pay my respects to His Highness first, shouldn't I?"
At my quiet question, Henrik tilted his head slightly toward me. Before his lips could even part—
"Big brother. You're here early."
A woman approached with light, graceful steps and spoke first. Her violet eyes were a shade paler than Henrik's, and she smiled warmly.
"It is our banquet. Of course I am, Warsza."
From the color of her eyes to her refined air, she so clearly resembled Henrik that there was no doubt—this was his sister.
"Oh, come now. You're the one who's busy every single day."
Princess Warsza was truly a singular creature. Her near-black hair, a shade of deep grey, fell elegantly about her shoulders, and her appearance was wreathed in glittering jewels and ornaments.
And that wasn't all. She was cradling a grey cat, round and soft as a ball of cotton.
Bringing a cat to a banquet?
Again I marveled only within the privacy of my own mind. What startled me more was that the cat's eyes were a deeply mysterious shade of purple—a perfect match for Princess Warsza.
Warsza, having exchanged greetings with Henrik, turned her gaze upon me at last.
"Princess Bi? It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm the princess, Warsza."
Her polite manner of speech came as something of a surprise. After all, Warsza appeared close to Henrik, and here she was—a princess who had brought her pet along to a banquet where she was not the guest of honor.
That alone marked her as no ordinary person. I greeted her with the utmost courtesy.
"Please, speak freely with me, Princess. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Attilenta, from Francia."
"Hehe. You are my brother's wife, after all. I'm grateful for your consideration, so I'll do my best. Now then, you must greet my cat as well. Her name is Marie."
Having paid my respects, I examined the cat again out of curiosity. A ribbon of precisely the same color as the jewels adorning Warsza's dress was tied around its neck. One glance was enough to tell it was silk of the finest quality.
Since when do cats wear ribbons?
I had never seen such a sight in my life, but rather than betray my astonishment, I chose instead to greet the cat with considerable politeness.
"Hello, Marie. I look forward to knowing you."
Warsza's face bloomed at once into a smile without a moment's hesitation.
"What a truly adorable and elegant cat, Princess."
"She does love to hear that. Don't you, Marie?"
Looking thoroughly satisfied, Warsza kept her smile lingering to the very end as she guided us toward an enormous table.
Somehow, it felt as though my first step had gone rather well. I let out a quiet sigh of relief where no one could see.