# Crack.
Did the Princess really just strike the head maid?
The maids couldn't believe it even seeing it with their own eyes.
They hurried to lower their heads, hoping to avoid notice, but shock kept their gazes stealing back.
"Ahh..."
Another moan escaped the head maid's lips.
She was a commoner who'd clawed her way up, yes, but she'd grown soft in her position. She'd never experienced violence like this.
"Jenna."
"Y-yes?!"
Amid the collective astonishment, only the Princess remained calm.
"Don't mind me. Continue."
Jenna felt the world tilt. Did she mean—would she punish them both simultaneously?
"I told you to continue. Punishment shouldn't be weakened just because I'm here. I don't wish to invade the head maid's authority."
But Jenna could no longer swing with the same force. Seeing the mighty head maid struck down had shaken her.
Crack.
The whip split the air—much weaker than before.
CRACK!
The cane struck with vicious precision.
Unlike Jenna, Medea had no hesitation about her actions.
Watching both women, Jenna's hand grew slower and slower until Medea was landing three strikes for every one of hers.
The Princess didn't seem to care at all about the improper rhythm.
"Ugh..."
Neril's groans grew louder as the beating intensified, but the Princess continued without so much as blinking.
"Ahh!"
Finally, the head maid collapsed.
"Madame!"
As several maids rushed forward, Medea raised one hand. They froze mid-step.
"Stand up."
That calm voice sent ice down their spines. As though the head maid's calves—split and bleeding—were invisible to her.
With that eerily blank expression, Medea raised the cane again.
"I surrender!"
The head maid dropped to her knees.
She couldn't endure another blow. Her legs felt like they were burning from the inside out. Reason fled, leaving only animal instinct to escape the pain.
"I yield, I yield. Please, forgive me."
The head maid gave up before everyone.
By nightfall, the entire palace would know. The taste of blood and profound humiliation filled her mouth where she'd bitten her lip.
When she glared up with murder in her eyes, Medea's fingers twitched on the cane.
"Your Highness, *please*—!"
The words tumbled out unbidden. Hunched shoulders. Bowed head. Eyes cast down.
It couldn't be more degrading.
Medea released the cane instead of answering. Then, as though to mark the punishment's end, she snapped it in half.
CRACK.
The sharp sound pierced every ear in the corridor.
The Princess's gaze shifted to Jenna.
"Bring Neril."
"Yes!"
Jenna leaped up as though scalded and threw aside her whip.
"I'm returning to my chambers."
"This incident..." The head maid looked up with venom in her eyes. "You will regret it."
"Perhaps."
We'll see.
The door closed on Medea's soft reply.
"Go back."
When the Princess's palace came into view, Medea gave the order. Jenna, reading the dismissal, bowed hastily and fled.
Neril struggled to straighten her staggering body, worry overwhelming the pain.
"Lean on me."
The imperious tone was gone. This was the young Princess Neril knew.
"The head maid... she controls the palace. She'll seek revenge for this. Even now, I should go back and—and try to smooth things over—"
Neril's breath hitched.
Medea gripped her shoulder. Blood from Neril's soaked clothes stained her hands.
"I'm sorry."
A single clear tear traced down that pale face.
In her past life, Neril had died like this.
She'd tried to stay by Medea's side to protect her and been killed for it. And Medea—deceived by her enemies' lies—had blamed Neril for abandoning her irresponsibly.
"Your Highness?"
"It's because of me. Because of me, you—"
Neril looked confused.
She couldn't know that the unspoken word between them was *died*.
"Neril, I'm sorry I was too foolish to see you clearly."
There was no way for Neril to understand that this apology carried the weight of an entire lifetime.
"Why did you just take the beating? You should have fought back. Where was all your training?"
Neril smiled weakly.
Medea knew why. Neril hadn't wanted to give anyone another excuse to remove her from the Princess's side.
"Don't do that again. Next time, just... do what they want. If you'd said you'd leave, I would have let you go quietly."
"That's impossible... No. I must serve Your Highness... I can't—I won't leave—"
Medea held her tighter.
Neril, why didn't I see it? There was someone in this vast palace who cared for me. Peleus was trying to protect me. Why did I think everyone hated me?
Another tear fell.
"This will never happen again,"
she vowed, fierce as a blade.
"I promise you."
"Your Highness, please don't cry."
Neril didn't know what to do. What she failed to notice was the steel beneath the girl's trembling voice.
My lady.
The Princess had saved her again.
She would never forget that small, delicate back standing between her and the whip.
Neril looked away to hide her reddening eyes.
"Still... don't do this again. You could be hurt. I can—I can protect you myself—"
"That's very reassuring to hear."
"Your Highness..."
"Let's go. You need treatment first."
Neril didn't notice that the Princess never actually agreed. She felt both comforted and worried.
If anyone tries to lay a finger on Your Highness, I'll sacrifice everything to protect you.
Neril limped forward, supported by the girl who had sworn she'd die for her.
Medea did not voice it, but the thought burned with cold clarity: if they touched Neril again, she would not break a rod.
She would burn the palace to the ground.
Meanwhile
District Two of Valdina's capital.
In the innermost corner of a luxury residential area—home to wealthy merchants and high-ranking nobles—stood a white mansion.
The building was beautiful in its restraint, rose vines in full bloom winding up white stone walls.
But those walls were built so high that passersby looking up could glimpse only one or two crimson blooms.
No one came or went. The mansion's owner was never seen.
Several thieves, growing bold, scaled the high walls.
Several went in.
None came back.
Rumors spread. The owner of the White Mansion was a famous arms dealer who traveled the continent, commanding a troupe of fearsome mercenaries.
People nodded knowingly. And no one ever wondered about the mansion's interior again.
"My God, you won't believe what I just read."
The third floor of the white mansion.
Gallo waved a piece of parchment beneath the window where sunlight fell brightest.
His handsome face was marked by a knife scar across one cheek—lending him a roguish, dangerous air. Wavy straw-colored hair and beautifully bronzed skin suggested sunny shores rather than cold Valdina.
"Boss, this is delicious news from the palace. Apparently the head maid was whipped by the Princess. Can you believe it?"
Gallo continued scanning the parchment, chuckling.
"Seems they tried to dismiss the Princess's maid at will. The girl was trained by the former guard captain, so the Prince Regent's faction must've found her inconvenient. Anyway, when the Princess discovered it, she showed up with a disciplinary cane and invoked old royal law."
"The head maid's lackey beat the Princess's maid, so the Princess beat the head maid. Then—get this—the head maid surrendered on her knees! *Hahaha!*"
Gallo laughed so hard his chair tipped backward.
The young man studying the continental map raised his head.
Jet-black hair. A straight, aristocratic nose. Dark eyes that somehow held both brilliance and winter frost.
For such a young man, those eyes were remarkably clear—as though not a single speck of dust would be tolerated.
Yet for someone barely past boyhood, there was something strangely magnetic about his well-built frame and the arrogant tilt of his gaze, as if he viewed the world from a great height.
The gentle curve of his mouth and sharp jawline seemed sculpted with deliberate care.
"Valdina has a princess?"
he asked, voice flat, one eyebrow lifting as if it were a small, curious insect.
End Chapter 4 ## Crack
"Some bonds are forged in blood and pain."
[ Continue to Chapter 5 ]