A Gold-Rimmed Teacup
A gold-rimmed teacup.
The matching saucer and teapot were crafted with seamless unity, exuding a luxurious yet refined, understated beauty. Naturally, the amber tea poured inside was of the highest quality, brewed to absolute perfection by an expert hand. Its deep, subtle aroma carried a unique fragrance that somehow evoked a misty rainforest. Tilting the cup to my lips, the rich, robust flavor washed over my tongue, thoroughly coating my mouth. It was a flavor so magnificent it completely shattered my previous belief that I preferred coffee over tea.
This is what it means to live the life of a noble princess.
It was a far cry from my past life, where I drank more energy drinks than water. Perhaps this was a gift from God—a surprise present from some deity who took pity on a miserable soul who had been ground down by life until she finally died of overwork. Of course, considering the horrific treatment the original Sera endured in the novel, I wasn't entirely sure if it was truly a gift... but I had absolutely no intention of letting things play out that way.
It was a picture-perfect, elegant tea time for a princess. As if interrupting it were a sin, a maid approached and spoke in a hushed whisper.
"Um, Your Highness. Knight Commander Filgret has arrived."
"Let him in."
The maid withdrew, and soon Filgret entered the room. With the clinking of his armor, he dropped to one knee on the floor.
"I have come at your command, Princess Sera. What are your orders?"
"Thank you for coming so quickly, Commander Filgret. I asked for you because there is something I wished to inquire about. Could you tell me about the security status of the Red Flower Palace?"
"The Red Flower Palace... Do you mean the residence where Lady Carmel is currently staying?"
"Yes, indeed."
Without asking for her reasons, Filgret answered immediately.
"The west and east entrances are guarded by pairs on a three-shift rotation. Naturally, we do not perform special inspections on the palace staff. His Majesty strictly ordered us to maintain tight security while ensuring Lady Carmel experiences absolutely no discomfort..."
"First of all, please tighten security against any suspicious individuals. And if what you say is correct, it seems no guards are stationed at the watchtowers?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"Select knights skilled in archery and station them there. Furthermore, any bird approaching the Red Flower Palace—especially crows—must be shot down immediately upon sight. I will leave the scheduling adjustments to you, Commander."
This time, he looked intensely curious about the reason behind such orders. I replied lightly, adopting an air of nonchalance.
"According to my father, Lady Carmel harbors a secret phobia of birds. She quite adorably wishes to keep this a secret from others, so I trust you will keep this between us, Commander."
"Ah, yes! Of course, Your Highness."
Filgret bowed respectfully and withdrew. Naturally, the story about a bird phobia was an excuse I had spun on the spot. My true objective was to completely cut off Carmel's lines of communication.
Carmel was no ordinary villainess. Descended from the witches of the north, she possessed a formidable aptitude for black magic. Her specialties, in particular, were curses and illusions. If she were allowed to unleash her full power, even I couldn't guarantee what the consequences would be.
However, to wield her magic to its fullest potential, she required the grimoire known as the Book of Enekra. Under normal circumstances, this item wouldn't appear until much later in the plot, but for Carmel, it was the easiest solution to the daunting hurdle of the Sacred Ritual. There was no way she wouldn't think of it.
Carmel would try to smuggle the Book of Enekra in by any means necessary. Thus, my first step was to block that path entirely—by severing her contact with the outside world.
With the items currently in her possession, Carmel couldn't cast any high-level magic. Deprived of the Book of Enekra, she would likely try to scrape together whatever ingredients she could find within the royal palace to make do, but that wouldn't be so simple.
When hunting a rabbit, the beaters and hounds block off every single escape route one by one. In the end, only a single path remains. Even as it senses its impending doom, the rabbit has no choice but to run straight into the waiting trap.
That was exactly what I was doing to Carmel now. And ironically, it was the very same treatment Carmel had inflicted upon Princess Sera in the original novel. In a sense, it was poetic justice.
I summoned a maid and instructed her to bring another person to me. Marta—one of the maids who assisted with my dressing.
Knock, knock. Perhaps because the knock was identical to the last, Carmel seemed to already know it was me standing outside. With a low creak, the door swung open.
"...What do you want?" The Carmel who opened the door looked far more haggard than before. Her repeated attempts to contact the outside had been thwarted, and she still had no proper countermeasure prepared for the Sacred Ritual. By now, she must be feeling utterly cornered.
"Since the Sacred Ritual is tomorrow, I simply wanted to see how your preparations are coming along. Especially since you made such grand boasts." I asked, deliberately wearing an angelic smile. Carmel's beautiful face contorted in sheer irritation, though even that couldn't dull her striking looks.
"You... who are you really?"
"The First Princess of the Rustier Kingdom, Sera Rustier. Surely you know me? After all, you are to become my mother, Lady Carmel."
Carmel suddenly grabbed my arm and dragged me into the room. Slamming the door shut, she glared into my eyes from a distance where I could feel her breath.
"You certainly have courage, Princess. Cornering me like this, and then daring to visit me alone in the dead of night. Did you honestly think I wouldn't harm you?"
Carmel slipped a small dagger from her robes with a practiced motion. She brandished it threateningly near my face, then suddenly changed direction, slashing the blade across the back of my hand. Yet, the blade failed to leave even a single scratch on my delicate skin.
Crackle!
"Ugh...!" A flash of white lightning crackled from the back of my hand, knocking the dagger clean out of Carmel's grip. Protection magic. It was obvious what a cornered Carmel would resort to.
"Our court mages are exceptionally talented, you see. Did you truly believe I would come here without any precautions?"
"You..." Though her eyes wavered with weakness, the venom hidden within them remained. I scanned the room. The telltale traces of attempted black magic were scattered everywhere. On the desk lay charred ashes, a vial filled with a violet liquid, and several medicinal herbs.
"The Potion of Shimasa... though with such poor equipment and ingredients, it could never have been brewed properly."
"You even know about that?"
Of course I did. The Potion of Shimasa was a forbidden concoction used to steal another's identity—a taboo art that allowed one to mimic someone else for a short time. Depending on how it was brewed, it could perfectly replicate a person's voice, appearance, and even the very shape of their soul.
In the novel, Carmel had used it to steal Princess Sera's appearance, performing all sorts of scandalous acts in front of the public to ruin her reputation. Having read that part intensely multiple times, there was no way I could forget it.
Carmel was likely planning to use the Potion of Shimasa to copy the shape of my soul and bypass the Sacred Ritual. After all, if she possessed the soul of the royal family itself, passing the ritual would be a breeze.
Touching the small scab on my lip, I spoke.
"It seems blood was the most effective catalyst. But a mere scratch from a fingernail was never going to be enough. Fufu, surely you've realized by now? The blood Marta brought to you wasn't actually mine—it was chicken blood."
Greedy Marta. Swayed easily by money, she would have readily succumbed to Carmel's bribery. The easiest way to prevent that was to win her over beforehand. Thanks to that, Carmel had wasted precious time, attempting a brewing process that was doomed to fail with fake blood.
Her desperate attack with the dagger just now was undoubtedly another attempt to secure my blood. From start to finish, everything was playing out exactly as I had anticipated.
"You... what is it you want? Why go to such lengths as this grand Sacred Ritual? If you simply wanted to expel me, there were countless ways to prevent me from ever entering the palace in the first place... Are you planning to brand me a witch and burn me at the stake?"
I smiled brightly, returning the very words Carmel had once thrown at me.
"And here I thought you were a simple villainess, Lady Carmel, but you are surprisingly clever."
Carmel's face stiffened as if she had just bitten into a stone. Ignoring her reaction, I continued.
"It is exactly as you say. If my goal was merely to exclude you from the royal family, I had plenty of ways to do so. But there is only one reason I didn't: I truly wish for you to become my mother."
"...What?"
It was only natural. If Carmel were expelled and never entered the royal family, I wouldn't be able to lay a finger on her. Therefore, she absolutely had to become my new stepmother and the Queen.
I reached between my breasts and pulled out a small vial. It was a tiny glass bottle containing a few drops of crimson liquid.
"Do you see this? The very thing you desire most right now—the authentic, royal blood of the Rustier lineage. My blood. As you know, I am the only woman in the royal family whose soul shape matches yours. And I am quite willing to give this to you, Lady Carmel."
Carmel glared at me, her eyes thick with suspicion. It was only natural for her to assume I had an ulterior motive. She kept her mouth shut, her gaze darting between me and the vial in hesitation, before she finally spoke in a low voice.
"...What is your condition?"
I beamed at her with an angelic smile and replied.
"Show me your breasts. Right here, right now."