Chapter 1
***
Reina Dazbel scanned the cramped room with a wary eye.
The musty, moldy stench and the unidentifiable sewer smell were unlike anything she'd encountered in her life. Her transparent green eyes, darkening toward the edges, slowly traced a parabolic arc until they met those of her loyal maid and dearest friend, Carla.
Reina asked with narrowed eyes.
Are you kidding me?
Faced with that gaze brimming with distrust and irritation, Carla unnecessarily hooked her arm through Reina's and pressed her mouth close to her ear.
"I told you this was the place, Miss."
She lowered her voice considerably, careful not to let the grubby old man sitting at the circular table waiting for them hear.
"You dared bring me to a place like this?"
"Of course, I never imagined it would be this cramped and filthy either..."
Reina's eyes narrowed slightly. Still, Carla remained resolute.
"That old woman is real, I swear."
Real, my foot. Reina gently furrowed her delicate brow and surreptitiously scanned the old woman.
Her snow-white hair was not just disheveled but dry and twisted like a broom. When had she last bathed? Prejudice easily swept over her, convinced the old woman was the source of that unidentifiable, putrid stench. Her wrinkled skin was dark and mottled, making her age difficult to gauge...
"Surely she's not Dochioin?"
Reina recalled her father's teachings and her nerves were on edge.
"The Dochioin are born without gratitude. They know nothing but crime."
How had the late king, who had shown kindness and mercy to the persecuted foreigners, lost his life? He had been killed by a dagger thrust through his heart by his beloved Dochioin attendant.
Like the other nobles, Reina believed the Dochians were the chief perpetrators of theft, fraud, kidnapping, rape, and murder.
Carla jumped.
"How can you say such terrible things! Their skin may be darker, but judging by their accent, they couldn't possibly be Dochians. Above all, this is Caldillac, ruled by the Duke of Dazbel."
"True. Father wouldn't have let them slip by..."
Reina nodded in agreement, yet her skeptical gaze didn't fully fade.
"Surely you wouldn't come all this way just to turn back?"
"Well... I'm still thinking about it."
"But you said you were curious about your future husband."
"But look, Carla. What I want to meet is a skilled fortune-teller, not some filthy old woman like that. Her eyes are cloudy... she must be blind."
"The most noble rose on the Red Hill."
At the sudden voice, the innocent young ladies huddled by the doorway, whispering among themselves, turned their heads in unison, shoulders jerking. The old woman was grinning, staring at some unknown point in the air.
"Why seek out an old woman like me?"
"......"
Reina blinked several times and turned to Carla. Just then, Carla also turned to Reina with a startled look.
The stronghold of the Dazbel ducal house bore the nickname "Red Citadel." The crimson climbing rose symbolized Dazbel, and the most noble rose of all...
...pointed to the duke's only daughter, Reina Dazbel.
Reina asked with wide eyes.
'Did you tell them who I am?'
'No.'
Carla shook her head repeatedly, her face still frozen in surprise. A faint hint of expectation flickered at the corners of her lips, which had risen in bewilderment.
"...Good heavens."
Reina, seemingly oblivious, slowly approached the circular table. Even then, feeling distinctly uneasy, she leaned her upper body back as far as possible before sitting down.
"So you can see who I am with your own eyes?"
"Normally, this old woman would never have the honor of meeting such a noble lady in her lifetime."
"Right, fine. A fortune teller who supposedly knows everything..."
Only then did Reina pull down the hood covering her head. Lustrous red hair cascaded down, covering her back. She spoke with an expectant look on her face.
"First, the most important question."
The old woman nodded, urging her to continue. Taking a small breath, Reina adopted a rather solemn expression.
"Who will be my husband?"
A few days ago, her father, Leonard, had said:
"You are already fifteen years old. It is time to start looking for a husband."
Curious about her future husband, Reina couldn't stay still in her room. That was why, late at night, she had secretly slipped outside the inner city walls, accompanied by one maid and one knight.
"Is it the prince?"
And she had never imagined her future without becoming a queen.
And no wonder—since childhood, everyone had told her the same thing. Reina Dazbel was the most noble lady in the land, destined to marry Prince Cassian and become queen.
But the old woman shook her head without a moment's hesitation.
"No."
A flustered Reina retorted.
"No?"
"Your husband is not a prince."
But the old woman only shook her head firmly once more.
'...Then is the rumor that Prince Cassian proposed to the princess of the southern island all true?'
Recalling the rumor that had recently spread as far as Caldillac, Reina couldn't hide her disappointment.
"Then I can't become queen?"
"You will become queen."
"... I can't marry the prince? But I'll become queen?"
"You will marry the king you choose and become queen."
"...No way."
Reina, her face falling, asked urgently.
"My husband won't be that old... I mean, it won't be King Bailion, right?"
The old woman tilted her head back and laughed again.
"How dare you..."
When Reina, growing impatient, showed her displeasure, the old woman abruptly stopped laughing.
"No need to worry. Far from being old, your husband will be so young he'll be practically green."
Reina felt immense relief, though she didn't show it. Her worries vanished instantly, and she asked in a rather shy voice.
"Then... does my husband love me?"
For a fifteen-year-old girl steeped in the chivalric romances of destiny, nothing mattered more than this question.
And the old woman, silent for a moment, began to chuckle heartily.
"Love? Ha ha!"
The sound of phlegm bubbling and spittle flying was deeply unpleasant. Though not close enough for it to land, Reina uncomfortably leaned her upper body back a little further. It was then the old woman spoke.
"Your husband loves you. That's why it will be a problem."
Reina's brightening expression froze, and she asked in puzzlement.
"If a husband loves his wife, how could that be a problem?"
And rightly so. In chivalric literature, love was the driving force that could overcome all hardships and adversity, the true reward that came at the end.
Therefore, a wife loved by her husband could not possibly be unhappy.
"...Anyway, you're saying my husband loves me?"
"It's more certain than anything else, my precious rose."
Above all, she was exceptionally fortunate.
Throughout her life, she had never been denied anything she desired, and everything tended to flow as she wished without much effort.
Reina was filled with pure confidence. Thus, she brushed off the difficult-to-understand words for the moment.
She didn't have much time either. Outside, her childhood friend, Ventari, the newest knight of the Duke Dazbel’s household, was waiting. Having just become a knight, he had vehemently opposed coming here, saying he'd be the only one to lose his head if they were discovered.
"Miss? Carla! They're telling us to come out now!"
His urging made Reina's heart race, and she hurriedly moved on to her final question.
"Then how many children are there between my king and me?"
It was then that the old woman, who had been answering without hesitation, suddenly clamped her mouth shut.
At that, Reina couldn't help but tense up immediately. After all, the queen had the duty to produce an heir.
The old woman seemed to ponder for a moment before muttering ambiguously.
"Well. That alone is as faint as mist."
"How can there be no children when my husband loves me?"
It was the moment Reina retorted irritably, her voice laced with disappointment and anxiety.
A flash of malice flickered in the old woman's deep-set eyes. Startled, Reina instinctively reached out and grabbed the hem of Carla's dress, who stood beside her.
"Still, one thing is certain. Because you and he love each other, you will be miserable."
The old woman continued shouting in a raspy voice, as if thoroughly amused.
"In the end, you will beg him to kill you."
Words like a curse.
Reina's eyes widened. Simultaneously, her heart raced like an animal facing its predator. Her entire body instantly drenched in cold sweat.
But the old woman didn't stop.
"Yet you won't be able to die either. Daughter of a murderer."
It had become the distinctive intonation of a Dochioin.
Ha. Reina, gasping for breath, snapped her eyes open.
She didn't immediately realize she had awakened from a dream. It had been that vivid.
"Your Majesty? Doctor! Call the doctor!"
Following Carla's frantic voice, Reina's stiff eyes blinked slowly.
"Your Majesty."
Carla's tear-streaked face filled her vision.
Reina blinked blankly. For a moment, the title 'Your Majesty' and Carla's mature-looking face felt too unfamiliar.
'...Was it a dream?'
Reina slowly returned from the dream to reality.
'Why did it have to be then...'
Of course, that day had been the first time in her life she'd felt her life threatened. But she couldn't understand why that incident, from her foolish maiden days over seven years ago, had suddenly appeared in her dream.
Noticing Reina's confusion, Carla firmly grasped her hand and asked.
"Your Majesty, do you remember how you lost consciousness?"
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