Closer Than Strangers, Farther Than Family
“These cookies are really delicious.”
“Eat as many as you like, sister!”
I finished off another pastry, warmth spreading through my chest as I listened to Bibi chattering away like a merry lark. The biscuits topped with sweet apricot and strawberry jam were truly divine.
Watching the maids pray for my swift recovery from the makeshift pavilion pitched in the Empress’s front courtyard through the window only made the treats taste sweeter.
A flicker of guilt pricked at me for scattering crumbs all over the bedsheets, but what did it matter? In the eyes of society, I was still an invalid confined to bed rest. Besides, the linens were changed every single day, and I wasn't the one doing the laundry.
Gazing out at the sun-drenched grounds, I lost myself in thought.
Three days had passed since the maids, who had once wailed outside the palace gates demanding news of my safety, had voluntarily begun their prayer vigil for my recovery.
From the beginning, the Empress had never favored having people bustling in and out of her residence. The power dynamics within the imperial palace were far too precarious.
No matter what anyone said, Her Majesty was the legitimate Empress of the empire and the birth mother of the Second Prince. Yet the Emperor shamelessly and overtly showered all his favor upon Imperial Consort Cleo and the First Prince. Servants in the palace were quicker to read the shifting winds than a weather vane.
In other words, the Empress’s standing within these walls was not particularly secure. Of course, while a princess with no backing like myself was easy prey, no servant would dare openly disrespect the Empress. Rather, the truth was simple: they feared Consort Cleo far more.
The consort crushed people with a sweet smile. She terrorized them with fear and seduced them with riches. Above all, Cleo was acutely aware of the vulnerability stemming from her origins. She might brazenly wear the Ocean of Stars upon her brow to insult the Empress, but she could never step foot into the Chamber of Glory, a sanctum reserved solely for the reigning Emperor and Empress.
Even if the current Empress were to pass away, the chances of an illegitimate daughter becoming the next Empress were vanishingly slim. Thus, she maintained her grip by dominating the palace staff, covertly undermining and threatening the Empress at every turn. Though I knew little of the specifics, Her Majesty had undoubtedly weathered countless assassination attempts over the years. At least the spies planted within the Empress’s palace had all been weeded out two days ago.
“Bibi.”
“Yes, sister?”
The young girl turned toward me with a soft, radiant smile. Merely looking upon her sweet, gentle face—bright as a sunflower—was enough to melt away my lingering tension. She had tucked a little yellow flower behind her ear, one she had plucked especially for me since I couldn't leave the palace, making her look like a living porcelain doll.
I fought to keep the corners of my mouth from turning up into a helpless grin as I spoke.
“Bibi.”
Meeting her gaze quietly, I looked into her sapphire eyes. Those clear, lake-blue depths rippled with faint unease.
“You’re overexerting yourself, aren’t you?”
“I… I don't know what you mean, sister.”
“Our sweet Bibi is pushing herself way, way too hard for Princess Titania’s sake. Am I wrong?”
“…”
Bibi looked down, avoiding my eyes with a crestfallen expression.
A hush settled over the room. Aside from the single maid attending to Bibi, everyone had tactfully withdrawn. That maid was a former assassin whose family owed their lives to Bibi and who now served as her fiercely loyal bodyguard, which was the only reason the others felt comfortable leaving us alone.
Ever since I had narrowly escaped death, House Castrein had showered me with an overwhelming deluge of gifts. There had even been a personal letter of gratitude penned by Duke Castrein himself. Then there was Lisianthus, stumbling over himself in bizarre, clumsy attempts to act friendly, and Raymon, who would appear with his usual stoic face simply to announce, “I came to see if you were safe.”
To be honest, the excessive fuss from the ducal family was growing somewhat exhausting. Even the Empress, the mistress of this palace, and Prince Adrian, who had calmly explained the aftermath to me, didn't make such an unnecessary scene.
Yet the Castrein retainers clocked in every single day like clockwork, long before my awakening had even been made public, accompanied by an endless stream of supplies flowing in and out of the Empress’s palace. Given Her Majesty’s usually frugal lifestyle, anyone paying attention had likely already figured out that I was conscious.
House Castrein was practically declaring to the world that they didn't care what anyone thought if it meant protecting their benefactor—and that “anyone” happened to be the Emperor himself, those reckless fools.
“But what’s so bad about trying hard?” Bibi murmured, looking up at me with shining eyes as I pondered the situation. “My papa said that people of House Castrein never, ever forget a kindness or a grudge! He told me that especially now, as a proud daughter of the Castrein family, I must never forget it!”
“Right…”
Papa. She called him ‘Papa.’
To think the day would come when I’d hear the female lead of a child-rearing novel say “Papa” out loud in her own voice. A strange swell of emotion rose within me.
“So it’s only natural for me to care about you, sister!”
“I may have come close to dying, but I didn't. I don't even have a scar.”
“If not for you, sister, I would have—!”
“You wouldn't have died.”
Bibi blinked at my firm tone.
“You wouldn't have died, Bibi. You are a blessed child, and you deserve to be loved.”
“Um… sister. That’s…” Bibi’s lips parted and closed, wanting to protest but unable to find the words.
Though this incident had never occurred in the original story and felt somewhat suspicious, Raymon had arrived right on time anyway, hadn't he?
“Sister,” Bibi called out softly after a moment of quiet contemplation. “Why did you save me?”
“Because you’re much younger than me.”
“…You’re still practically a child compared to grown-ups, though.”
“There weren't any grown-ups around. When that happens, the older one has to take responsibility.”
“…”
In truth, I had been terrified.
I had missed my mom.
I had missed my dad.
I had wanted nothing more than to go home.
Even though I knew I was now simply Titania and could never return. Even though I understood that I had to live as this broken, unloved child. The sheer weight of it all had felt so unbearable that, deep down, I had thought it wouldn't matter if my life came to an end while saving this little girl.
“Sister,” Bibi’s voice trembled faintly. “…I won't tell anyone about Her Highness Imperial Consort Elaine.”
“…”
A bitter smile touched my lips. Neither before nor after I regained consciousness had a single message arrived from the Licorice Palace, where Consort Elaine resided. Everyone in the palace knew it, and everyone had drawn their own conclusions. Seeing the shadow across my face, Bibi looked as if she were about to burst into tears herself.
“C-Can't I be on your side?”
“…”
“If I love you, and I bless you… if I say that you’re a blessed child too, and that you deserve to be loved… can’t that be enough?”
Ah, of course.
In the original novel, Bibi had also been driven to despair after suffering abuse at the hands of her wretched adoptive parents before her regression. That was why she resonated with my pain so deeply. But having read the story, I knew the truth that Bibi still did not: her birth mother was the Duke’s missing younger sister. She had been an exceptionally gifted woman who gave birth to Bibi following a brief, fiery romance with the man she loved, and she was the one who had clasped the pendant around Bibi’s neck before the child was left at the orphanage.
“I’d be truly grateful to have you on my side, Bibi,” I said gently.
Bibi’s face lit up with a brilliant, blooming smile.
“However, Bibi… let’s be closer than strangers, but farther than family.”
“Wh-Why?! Sister, why?!” Bibi protested with an aggrieved cry, looking like a child whose favorite sweet had just been snatched away.
“Because, Bibi… we still have far too many enemies.”
“Enemies?”
A sharp spark of intelligence flickered in Bibi’s eyes. Before her regression, Bibi had drifted from place to place in utter misery, yet she had never ceased gathering news of the outside world. Ironically, because everyone looked down on her wretched state, no one had ever bothered to watch their tongues around her. She undoubtedly knew about my past disgraceful tantrums, the bitter blood between me and House Castrein, and the dysfunctional mess of the imperial family.
“House Castrein has many enemies, and so do I.”
“…”
Instead of replying, Bibi cast a fleeting glance out the window of the Empress’s palace. It was a silent sign that she understood.
Behind Imperial Consort Cleo stood the Landt Marquisate. The marquisate had always suffered from a scarce line of succession: there had only ever been the legitimate daughter, who had practically been slated to become Empress, and the eldest son who would inherit the title. When that legitimate daughter met an untimely death, they had hurriedly thrust an illegitimate daughter—who had been treated no better than a maid—before the Emperor. Yet the relationship between Consort Cleo and House Landt was far from harmonious. They merely cooperated to exploit one another toward a singular shared goal: placing the First Prince upon the throne.
Furthermore, the Emperor’s blatant favoritism toward the consort posed a massive obstacle. Barring outright treason, one could not openly defy imperial decrees.
Thus far, Consort Cleo had not treated House Castrein as an outright enemy. They were simply too massive a catch to let slip into the opposition camp, so she had merely been testing the waters—using Princess Titania, whom she believed she held firmly in her grasp, as her bait.
Yet if this incident led to a smooth reconciliation between House Castrein and myself…?
“They will try to manipulate both you and House Castrein using me as their leverage.”
“We can handle that much—”
Bibi began confidently, but her voice faltered, the conviction trailing off into silence.