Lady of the Household

“I am looking forward to the crowning ceremony!” Aiden said cheerfully.

Aya, who had perfectly blended into the background as a decoration, was caught off guard. She now felt more like a flower vase as he beamed at her. His smile seemed to bring sunlight to her wilting petals. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he’s the Divine Vessel of Light instead of Wind.

‘Cute,’ she thought, ‘like a puppy.’

“It is quite soon, yes? How have the preparations been?”

“Ah, yes. Everything is proceeding well.”

“It must have been difficult, with so little time at your disposal,” Enzo remarked, gentle and polite. If Aiden was the sun, he could be spring itself. One would imagine him surrounded by blossoms bowing at his feet. As a mere flower vase, Aya felt humbled to be in his presence.

“It sure is hard.” At her straightforward answer, Maruscha gave a quick squeeze on her shoulder from behind. “I-I mean, me and everyone are working hard…”

Gabriel spoke this time, the corners of his lips lifting, “In spite of that, you made time for today. That is admirable.” It was a small smile, but he appeared entirely different. A tender warmth bloomed in his eyes, and suddenly, he was like the first viridescent bud at the end of winter.

“Thank you. I was delighted to receive the invitation.”

“Unless you possess some form of magic with which your preparations may be completed swiftly, coming here is unlikely to be favorable.”

Aya turned to Drystan. ‘...What was that?’

“Do you even understand the significance of a crowning ceremony? It is not another tea party where you can freely sit still and look pretty.”

‘E-Excuse me?! Who’s ignoring me in the first place?!’

The royal garden fantasy taking root in Aya's head was trampled like dirt out of nowhere—by the Divine Vessel of Earth, no less. Drystan had chatted pleasantly with the others, but when the conversation steered back to her, he started acting noticeably snide and sardonic for some reason, as if it’s a transgression to attend a tea party he himself helped organize.

“There is much to accomplish. How about rehearsing for the procession and rites? Memorizing the coronation oath? Finalizing the attire fitting?” he gushed on and on.

“U-Ummm…”

“Now, now. Do not scare her so.” Aiden tried to intervene along with Enzo and Gabriel.

“There is still time left.”

“I have faith she can do it.”

“Oh! Could it be that you’re worried, Drystan?” Aiden chimed again. “About her Anointing?”

“Huhhh?!”

His ears flushed red. He huffed and glared at Aya, making her nearly jump from her seat. He looked angry now.

‘What’s wrong with him, seriously? I was told one month of preparation wasn’t enough, but… Does he have to react this way? He’s only making it worse, if anything-’

“By all means, do as you please,” Drystan hissed under his breath. “I heard your family wouldn’t be there, anyway. How fortunate.”

A chill crept into her.

She stared at him, fingers gripping her gown. For a second, she thought she'd heard wrong. The other princes tried to change subjects and told the attendants to bring their welcoming gifts to her, but she wasn’t paying attention anymore. Her gaze lingered on him, a surge of emotions within.

“My family?”

Drystan took a moment to realize what Aya meant. “Yes. Your father, your mother, your siblings—none of them is coming, right? Good for you. They wouldn't see what spectacle you’d make of yourself.”

He had no idea.

He didn’t know her stepfather was somewhere far away, fighting for his life. He didn’t know she grew up without anyone else to call her family. He didn’t know she’s all alone. He didn’t know she would cry herself to sleep every night, missing her home.

“Your father must’ve been shocked to hear his beloved princess was punished before she’s even crowned.”

She had to bear with it. Maruscha taught her that a princess endured. She had to smile all the time. She had to keep silent because dignity mattered more than pride. All those etiquette lessons couldn’t go to waste.

“And your mother? I pity her. Imagine how disappointed she’d be to have conceived such a disgraceful-”

A chair scraped sharply against the floor. The table rattled loudly as teacups fell over.

She’d snapped.

“I DON’T EVEN HAVE A MOTHER!!!”

Before anyone could react, Aya punched Drystan in the face.

---

One afternoon, the Diamond Palace had a guest.

Drevazio sat alone while a maid carefully poured him tea. "Thank you, miss.”

Right then, the door opened, and the assistant head maid entered. Her eyes widened. She stopped mid-step. Surprise flickered across her usually composed expression.

The other maid curtsied.

"Did you serve him?"

"Yes, Lady Romina.”

“...Why? Didn't Miss Maruscha…?”

The woman smiled. “Because Lord Gayatri is the assistant head maid’s father.”

Romina was the daughter of the former royal knight commander, Drevazio.

It would seem a matter of course to accommodate him as a form of respect, but apparently, that’s rarely been the case for the past several years. House Gayatri, once among the most influential noble families that served the king with unwavering loyalty, had fallen. A political conspiracy stripped them of power, and despite never being proven guilty of any crime, most of their fortune was seized. Their title and status had survived solely by royal decree.

Inside the palace overseen by a member of House Sorovia, their long-time rival, Drevazio’s presence was unwelcome. Therefore, his daughter had expected to find him waiting alone. Maruscha hadn't permitted him to visit initially, so this was the compromise—that he wouldn't be treated as a guest. Yet, a servant had still brought him tea.

The assistant head maid's expression softened.

"Thank you for serving my father.”

"It was my pleasure, Lady Romina.”

“I would like to express my gratitude to the lady of the household as well,” Drevazio said, taking both women aback.

“...Understood. I shall deliver your message to Lady Maruscha-”

“To the princess,” he corrected. “Send my thanks to Her Highness, please.”

After giving another curtsy, the maid stepped out of the room. There, Aya waited. She'd been hiding nearby the whole time. With a flick of her finger, the maid disappeared into thin air.

‘Did he notice it's an illusion? Why does he want to thank me?’

She took another peek inside to find Drevazio and Romina smiling together. At that moment, he’s neither a fallen nobleman nor a disgraced commander, but simply a father. Discovering this unknown side to the man gave her a sense of fulfillment. She’d been reluctant to use an illusion that talked for the first time, considering it's still in its early stages, but she's glad she pushed through. It’s worth trying it here. There’s no better use for it than this.

‘How could Lady Maruscha do that to Lord Drevazio? I waited a long time to thank him for helping me. If I didn't overhear the maids, I wouldn’t know about him and Lady Romina at all. Then again, she never told me anything. She even hid letters from me.’ Aya looked down at her bandaged hands. ‘How could she do this to me?’

Drevazio's voice cut through her thoughts. “That woman did what now?”

“She said it was discipline after the incident with the prince at the tea party, but-”

“Her Highness is a Divine Vessel!”

“I tried to stop her, and I am still trying. However, only the princess can really do it.”

Still staring at the bandages, Aya turned and left.

---

“Aya?”

A figure stepped onto the balcony shrouded by moonlight. The curtains swayed in the evening breeze. Calixtus sneaked into Aya's bedroom again tonight.

Her tears stilled at once. She wiped them away in a hurry.

She forced out a smile before turning to him. “Oh! You’re here.”

“Are you…crying?” He crossed the room and stood in front of her.

“I-I’m not!”

“Don’t lie to me.”

For a few seconds, she said nothing. There's no use denying it. She'd been crying the entire time she's locked up in there. Surely, her eyes were red. He’s also sharp enough to notice even if they weren't. It was him who first noticed she had a fever back then.

“What happened?” he asked, voice firm but soft.

“...L-Lady Maruscha… Um, t-the head maid…”

His expression hardened. “Did she do something?”

“E-Ever since the tea party, she…”

Instead of continuing her words, she showed her hands to him—swollen and bruised. The bandages were removed, revealing scraped skin across her knuckles and small cuts in her palms. A pair of gloves could cover them up, which could be why the same spot was struck over and over. 

It hurt every time. 

It hurt a lot.

Calixtus looked outraged, his brows creased and his teeth gritted.

“...Why?”

“It's my fault.”

“Even if it is, she shouldn't-”

“No, I'm a failure. I can't do anything right.”

“That’s not true. You shouldn't say that.” He held her shoulders.

She blinked through her tears. “I… I-I thought I was being difficult...”

“You’re not.”

“I always messed up.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“But I can't! I wish I can, but I just can't!”

“Aya…”

“I’m scared. I’m so scared. The crowning ceremony is in three days, and I…” She cried it all out at last. Without saying anything, he reached for her hands and gently caressed them in comfort, taking care not to hurt her more. Her tears continued to fall. “...I-I don't know what to do.”

“We'll figure it out together.”