a Rose
"The kindest gestures can carry the cruelest rejections."
A line stretched endlessly before the white marble audience hall.
All these people had gathered for one purpose—to see Princess Medea.
They could scarcely express the depth of their sorrow and anxiety when news arrived that the Princess who had protected their country against Katzen had vanished—chased into the wilderness by hunting hounds.
But recently, she had returned to the palace alive and unharmed.
With grateful and overwhelmed hearts, they had summoned their courage and climbed the lofty steps to the palace today.
Some brought personally dried herbs, prepared after hearing rumors of the Princess being injured while hunting. Others carried carefully embroidered patchwork quilts, stitched with prayers for her safe return. They willingly offered these humble gifts to wish for the Princess's good fortune and continued health.
"Next, please!"
Inside the hall, a shabby woman wearing a worn apron stood timidly on the crimson carpet.
When her turn came, the woman walked forward nervously, clutching a wooden basket tightly in her arms.
"Your Highness the Princess ordered that relief supplies be distributed starting from the outer districts. Thanks to her kindness, my children were able to stave off hunger."
The woman bowed deeply in gratitude and held out the wooden basket.
"Forgive me, Your Highness... I am ashamed that I have nothing finer to offer due to my poor circumstances... but I could not bear to come empty-handed..."
As she lifted the cloth covering the basket, fluffy yellow chicks poked out their tiny beaks.
Medea looked between the woman's weathered face and the chicks.
Chicks were not particularly expensive livestock.
However, for the impoverished, chickens represented valuable assets—sources of both food and income.
Seeing that there were only three of them made it painfully clear how difficult it must have been to part with even these.
"The chicks are truly adorable. But if I take them to the palace like this, they'll likely end up as food for the cat I keep. That would be quite unfortunate, wouldn't it?"
Medea pretended to consider the matter for a moment, then clapped her hands lightly.
"How about this instead? That basket is beautifully crafted—I'll accept it as a symbol of your heartfelt intentions. Please take the chicks back and raise them into healthy hens."
When Medea glanced at Neril, her handmaid swiftly took the basket and returned the chicks to the woman in a sturdy wooden box.
"Thank you, Your Highness... You are truly the light of Valdina."
The woman's face flushed with emotion.
She realized the Princess was being considerate of her situation while graciously accepting the gesture—treating even someone as lowly as herself with dignity.
Medea greeted each person who came to the hall warmly, inquiring about their hardships and listening to their concerns.
"Thank you, Your Highness. And once again, I apologize..."
The people felt both deep gratitude and guilt, knowing that the kingdom's only Princess would personally stoop to their level.
Despite being branded by some as someone who exploited the people's blood and sweat, this young Princess had not hesitated to risk her life paving the way for their survival.
Then her own life had been threatened by her treacherous uncle.
The fate of this pitiful young Princess—who had never known a single peaceful day—touched their hearts profoundly.
"Your Highness, you must never fall into the hands of a man like the Regent!"
"Goddess above, please protect Her Highness from the clutches of those pig-like villains!"
Their speech was rough, their gifts simple.
But the Princess nodded with a genuine smile, as though she understood they had given everything they could.
Moved by her generosity, they praised the Princess even more fervently and raised their voices louder in condemnation of the Regent.
How ironic that the day has come when my uncle and I have switched positions entirely.
Medea's green eyes, which had been smiling warmly throughout the audience, now took on a cool, calculating gleam once all the visitors had departed.
From the moment she returned, the people's perception of the Princess had transformed completely.
Now, wherever one went in the palace, one could hear praises for Medea and cries of condemnation against the Regent.
Will my uncle be able to endure this reversal?
Medea recalled the day she returned—when the Regent had submitted to the Queen Dowager's command to have Samon flogged.
More precisely, she remembered his fists trembling with barely suppressed rage, hidden beneath his sleeves.
He's not the type to accept defeat quietly. He'll try to reverse this situation somehow.
He would want to transform Medea back into a villainess, and himself back into a hero.
But his limited imagination could only produce one solution.
And that would be...
At that moment, magnificently blooming flowers filled Medea's field of vision.
The fragrant scent of roses tickled her nose.
Soft, beautiful pink roses—almost painful to look at in their perfection.
"Princess."
The voice of the final remaining visitor rang clearly through the hall.
Jason stood on the crimson carpet, smiling as he held a lavish bouquet.
"May I also request an audience with you?"
A handsome face. A rich, cultured voice. Old-fashioned elegance.
He presented the image of a perfect royal—one in which it was nearly impossible to find a single flaw.
"...Your Highness, what brings you here?"
"I came because I heard I might see the Princess. I arrived on a whim, I confess. Everyone else brought you heartfelt gifts, and I couldn't very well come empty-handed..."
Jason smiled sheepishly, lightly brushing his bangs aside.
The maids gathered around couldn't tear their eyes away from the handsome man holding flowers with such bashful charm.
"I hope you'll accept them."
Jason took a step closer to Medea.
Though his words were humble, Medea—who had lived an entire lifetime knowing him—could tell he was absolutely confident she would accept.
"Neril."
As Medea nodded, Neril stepped forward and took the bouquet in her stead.
Jason's picture-perfect expression hardened abruptly.
He had never imagined she wouldn't even touch the flowers he'd personally brought her.
"I'm so relieved you're safe. I was truly worried."
But Jason quickly regained his composure.
"You cannot know how much I regretted what happened the day you disappeared. If only I had been a little more vigilant, you wouldn't have had to endure such suffering..."
His voice dripped with sorrow. Genuine concern shone in his eyes.
It was the kind of tenderness that seemed designed to quench Medea's thirst for affection.
Once upon a time, I was so starved for love that I lost all sense of reason. How foolish. How pathetic.
"Why do you say such things, Grand Duke Castullo?"
Medea's voice was surprisingly soft as she posed the question.
Jason thought he had finally found an opening into the Princess's guarded heart.
She was wounded by the Regent she trusted—the one who tried to kill her.
"I understand, Princess. We are so alike, you and I. I, too, have been betrayed by the family I trusted most."
Even as he spoke words meant to comfort the Princess, joy surged deep within Jason's chest.
He was pleased that he and this beautiful girl before him shared something in common.
"Medea, please—call me Jason. We can be friends who understand each other's pain."
Jason took another step closer, as though drawn by some invisible force.
The Cut"Grand Duke Castullo, I truly have no idea what you're talking about."
A voice—cold rather than touched—descended upon Jason like ice water poured over burning coals.
A look of genuine confusion appeared on the Princess's face.
That indifferent expression, which seemed to ask —felt like nails dragged across Jason's heart.
"It is the Grand Duke's freedom, of course, to seek out companionship in whatever manner you choose."
A moment passed, as though she were catching her breath. Then a gentle voice followed—soft as silk, sharp as a blade.
"However, my brother—the family I trust most, His Majesty King Peleus of Valdina—has *never* betrayed me."
The Princess smiled faintly.
"He is neither an incompetent man with ambition but no ability, nor a hypocrite who leans on others for support, nor a beast who harms his own flesh and blood."
Was the single vivid emotion that flickered through her beautiful eyes hatred—or mockery?
It passed so quickly Jason couldn't be certain.
"So please, do not involve me in the same troubles as yourself by claiming you 'understand.'"
After finishing her statement, the Princess simply turned and left.
"..."
Jason stood alone, his fingertips trembling violently.
Even though her words had clearly not been directed at him personally, each one struck like she had mercilessly slapped him across the face and back.
"Ugh..."
Suddenly, Jason staggered, clutching his chest as excruciating pain tore through him.
The agony—arising for no apparent reason—did not subside for quite some time, as though its sole purpose was to torment him without mercy.
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