When I arrived at the Imperial Palace, I was directed not to the throne room, but to a massive hall that looked more like a high-end dressing room, filled with rows of hangers and bolts of silk.
"You're finally here," Loxdian said, looking up from a chair. He frowned, his eyes tracing my travel-worn appearance. "I sent Noah to get you hours ago. What took you so long?"
"I came by carriage, Brother. I didn't realize it was a race."
He waved my comment away and gestured toward the door. A woman entered and gave a deep, formal bow.
"Greetings, noble Princess. I am Bebeche, the head designer for the Imperial Court."
I tilted my head, confused. "Why is a designer here? What do you want, Loxdian?"
"You're attending the Imperial Banquet next week, aren't you?"
The banquet. The one where my grandfather planned to announce my wedding date. I felt a sudden surge of irritation just thinking about it. "And?"
"And you need a dress. Bebeche will be designing it today."
"What? I have my own designers at the Duchy. More than five of them, in fact." Charlize was an extravagant villainess; she had some of the best talent in the Empire at her beck and call. Why was Loxdian interfering now?
"Those 'designers' are adequate for Altsbeit, perhaps, but you are the Emperor's sister. I won't have you showing up in something that makes me feel embarrassed to be related to you. The Imperial Court only employs the best."
I wanted to argue—Charlize’s body practically vibrated with the habit of looking down on others—but Loxdian wasn't budging.
"Start the measurements," he barked.
"Wait, why do you even care about what I wear?"
Loxdian gave me a shameless look. "You made a pact with me, didn't you? You're my 'debtor' now. That means you do as I say."
I sighed and raised the white flag. He’d brought up the money, and I couldn't exactly argue with the man who held my debt.
As the assistants began taking my measurements behind a velvet curtain, Loxdian continued to lecture me from the other side.
"And for heaven's sake, make sure the dress actually covers you. I’m tired of seeing you in those flimsy things that look like they’ve been hollowed out. Dress appropriately for once."
"Why does it matter what I wear? You’re usually the one causing accidents that the Palace has to clean up."
"Exactly. My accidents are 'Imperial matters.' Yours are just annoying. I’m telling you to keep a low profile... and yet, didn't I tell you to be *more* scandalous this time?"
I frowned at his incoherent instructions. "Are you telling me to be a villainess or a proper lady? Make up your mind."
"Ha! You know what I mean."
I growled to myself as I felt the fine silk against my skin. "Just one question—can I use an 'accident' as an excuse to skip the banquet entirely?"
"And admit defeat before the game even begins?"
"Che. Whatever."
I wanted a way out of that wedding announcement. If I couldn't skip the banquet, I’d have to find another way to stop my grandfather.
"Wait... are you still chasing after that Lemut bastard? Is that why you want to skip it?" Loxdian asked, his voice dripping with disdain.
"It’s none of your business."
"Are you calling your own brother an outsider?"
I started to snap back, but then I realized... I was actually comfortable talking to him. He reminded me of my brother back in the real world—Yoon Ji-hoon. We used to bicker just like this. It was a strange, unsettling feeling of home in a world that wasn't mine.
One of the assistants let out a small, muffled laugh. I turned and caught her eye.
"Forgive me, Princess! I just... I thought the two of you looked so much alike just now. Your relationship seems very close."
Loxdian pulled back the curtain and looked at the kneeling assistant.
"We're siblings," he said flatly. "Of course we're close. Now get up."
The assistant scrambled to her feet. I looked at the designers and the maids; even Noah had a strange, almost amused expression on his face.
"Are you going to kill her for that?" I asked Loxdian. "Or do you actually like being compared to me?"
"Don't be absurd. Why would I kill her?" He leaned back in his chair, resting his chin on his hand. "Besides, you didn't seem to hate the comparison either."
I did hate it. I hated being told I looked like Yoon Ji-hoon back home, and I hated the idea of being compared to a tyrant now.
"I still hate it," I muttered.
"Then why aren't you retaliating?"
"It’s too much work. It’s annoying."
Loxdian chuckled and let it go.
As they moved on to my arm and shoulder measurements, I didn't bother with the curtain. A group of maids and court ladies were bustling around me, their measuring tapes flying.
'Wait...'
My eyes locked onto a small, jeweled hairpin in the hair of one of the younger maids.
I recognized it instantly. It was a unique piece I’d personally selected before heading to the Lemut estate. I’d picked it because I wanted to look especially pretty for Askin, and it was a favorite among my social circle.
But I hadn't brought it back with me.
I’d given that exact pin to a little girl in the Lemut village. Pyrene’s sister.
*"Pyrene lost the hairpin the Princess gave her... she was so upset she stayed out all night looking for it and caught a cold."*
The memory of the shivering, crying girl flashed through my mind. And here was my hairpin, sitting on the head of a royal maid in the capital.
I dropped my arms, surprising the assistants.
"Princess? What’s wrong?" the head designer asked.
I ignored her, my eyes fixed on the maid. "Where did you get that pin?"
All eyes turned to the young woman. She went pale in an instant, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead.
"I... I..."
Loxdian sat up, his interest clearly piqued.
I stepped toward her, and she nearly collapsed to her knees. "Answer me. Where did you get it?"
"Forgive me, Princess! I... I didn't mean any harm! My lover gave it to me!"
"Your lover?" My brow furrowed. "And who is this lover of yours?"
She stammered out a name, and as she explained, a cold realization settled over me.
"Is your lover... one of my escort knights?"
The pieces fell into place. One of my own knights—the men who were supposed to protect me—had stolen a gift from a village child to give to his girlfriend in the palace.
"Call him in," I commanded. "Now."
Loxdian watched the scene unfold with a dark, amused smile. I was too angry to care.
A few minutes later, the knight entered the room. His name was Martin—a man I barely recognized, though his face was familiar. He looked at me, then at his girlfriend, and finally at the hairpin in my hand. He looked like he was about to vomit.
"I heard you gave this to her," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "Tell me, Martin... how did you come to be in possession of my hairpin?"