Rise of the Unfavored Princess

Ch. 57: Free at Last?

Meanwhile, Helio asked what was to be done with the maid, Janice, in question.

“I just heard from one of my men watching the palace that the woman wants to send her out of the palace quietly and place her in a Red House that wealthy men often frequent. Apparently, she is a shockingly beautiful girl.” Sir Wolfgang reported.

Helio smirked, the half-smile almost breathtakingly handsome if it wasn’t for the sinister glint in his eye. Although he hated to stay within the imperial palace and capital, he recognized the need to be well connected to the news and knew well about the secret and not so secret affairs of Radovalsk. Being placed in a Red House, a courtesan house where women were not required to sleep with customers, just entertain them, would actually be such a boon for Akira’s spawn.

Sir Wolfgang saw the malevolent glint in his ruler’s eye and sighed. “Would you prefer I arrange for the shadow guard to dispose of her tonight?”

Helio shook his head. “Just send her to the lowest, filthiest brothel you can find and arrange for someone to keep a close eye on her.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” the Mad Dog replied, confused as to why the sovereign was just doing away with the woman altogether as he normally would.

But Helio wasn’t done. “As for everything else... Sir Gregory was struck with a strange illness that happened to coincide with when the laundry maid visited. Due to the empress condemning one of the royal heirs with faulty evidence, she must relinquish the right to run the palace to someone else, either that Duchess or someone we know doesn’t stand in the same political circles as her family.”

Sir Wolfgang kept his head leaning forward after Helio had spoken, waiting for more reparations to be made from the incident.

.....

“And the girl? Winter?” he finally asked, thinking of the little white-haired girl with round, expressive eyes.

There was a pause. “Do nothing,” Helio said coldly.

———

“Your Highness,” wails Marie at my knees as she collapses before me.

Emma says nothing, but her eyes appear a little red before she looks away from me.

By a stroke of genius luck, or perhaps Peppermint had an off day today, I have been released from the Tower, escorted by two guards back to my previous residence. I breathe in the warm air, carrying a touch of humidity from recent rainfall. The grass of Rose Palace is slick beneath my feet.

I don’t know how to feel. What should I feel? I watch the fat tears roll down Marie’s face and feel detached, like I’m watching a show. The other maids of my residence are also kneeling, but every time I look away, my wayward mind fantasizes them laughing. A large Cheshire cat grin. Mocking me.

I squeeze my eyes tight. Suddenly I wish I was still in the Tower, a crazy, strange thought. I’ve known that life isn’t fair. I’ve known that ever since I watched kids at my elementary school come in with matching socks and perfectly packed lunches, the white bread sandwiches cut in half with fancy fillings. They would talk about their summer vacations to Hawaii when sharing their summer adventures with the class, while I spoke about finding enough soda cans and beer bottles to redeem for money.

But at least I could work hard for my own merit. Didn’t I get it all? A good university, a decent apartment, a used car with all its payments fulfilled, and a loving fiance. I catch myself on the last part, my mouth falling into a cynical smirk. Jonathan’s actions no longer sting, as it’s been 6 long years since the betrayal, but it’s a symbol of when my life started to fall apart.

I lost a lover, a friend, even my life. And at my second chance at it all, the social barriers are too high for me to climb. It’s like I’ve been branded, the word ‘bastard’ tattooed across my face. No matter how much I try to please the nobles, all the smarts of the past 27 years crammed into a 6-year-old’s body, they will hate me.

That vile disgust in Duchess Taylor’s eyes, I can see it everywhere now. I saw it in the eyes of the guards who unlocked my doors and let me out. I saw it in the scurrying servants who lay their curious eyes upon me. For a second, I think I even see it in Marie.

Who would’ve thought that the Tower would be a haven? I just want to shut myself away and never leave.

My steps are wooden as I follow Marie into the Rose Palace. I’ve been living here for a few months, but this place already feels so foreign. Every nook and cranny is practically brand new to me and I know that I do not belong. My heart feels cold, and even the warm bath Marie gives me does little to warm it.

I’m not a child after all. I can read between the lines. On the surface, it appears as if Emperor Helio interceded on my behalf and punished Empress Katya. But I can tell this was just a power play. Empress Katya was too powerful and influential in the palace, my father, no my sperm donor, wanted to take her down a peg. Under the guise of her harming a royal heir, he can easily loosen the sturdy roots of the empress and the Duvernay family.

When I have nothing to do, I sit and stare out of the window of my bedroom, watching the still and lifeless rose garden that I occasionally witness gardners pruning. A pretty piece that sits idly gathering dust, that would be the best way to describe me. I’m fed and clothed once more at a status befitting a noble personage, but neglected in all other ways. Mrs. Laroche will never come again, it seems, her contract to work here terminated. Instead of a rose, I feel like ivy growing on a wall, growing unhindered and uncared for until the fateful day it is taken out by the roots and disposed of for a lovelier plant.

I sit by the window for one whole day, then two, and even take my meals there.

I’m going to leave, I suddenly tell myself on the third day.

When this thought comes to me, my heart sighs in relief and I suddenly feel like I can breathe again. This is the right thing for me to do. I hate to impose myself on people who don’t care about me or want me dead. I’m tired of the stares, both in this life and my past life. I’m tired of watching the silver spoons and cutlery brought with my meals slowly disappear and get replaced with lower quality ones. I’m just... tired.

In my dreams, I see a quiet cottage sitting in the middle of a field, the tall grass swaying gently around it. It’s nicer than Bianca’s shack and quieter than the palace. I imagine that no one would ever give me dirty looks there or even know who I am. I can just exist in peace.

But I know it would be hard to make this dream a reality. I’m trapped in a kid’s body with the distinguishable feature of gold eyes. Any slaver looking to make a quick buck or sharp-eyed city guard would pick me up speedily. I could starve to death as I don’t know how to survive in this world that is at least 200 years behind mine. The cold of winter could take me away in my sleep.

I’m going to run anyway.

When I ask Emma to give me her spare uniform, she doesn’t even seem surprised.

“Tomorrow,” she tells me, her one-word answers quite comforting.

“Will you come with me?” I ask tentatively.

The young maid shakes her head. “I need money.”

I snort loudly and pat her on the shoulder, a slight grin crossing my originally despondent face.

“Don’t ever do something you’ll regret for money,” I warn kindly, my eyes warm. I sincerely hope that the rest of her life goes well and she someday makes a fortune. I know it would be better for me to tell her not to fixate on money so much, but in a way, Emma and I are the same ilk. To tell someone not to be so obsessed with money comes from a place of privilege, a privilege I have yet to enjoy.

I flop onto my bed, realizing this is the last night I will ever spend in this damn palace and feel happy. I oddly feel the same way I did when I was younger and my mom had found a new place to stay. An uncharted terrain that I’m eager to explore as I put the old one behind me.

Nothing is sacred to me here. I don’t care to take any of my clothes, save for the plainest dresses and hair ribbon. Emma has also snuck some preservable food to me: dried peaches, bread, old-fashioned jerky. I feel ready, and as I put on Emma’s maid uniform, which is a tad bit too large on my mini body, I tuck a pouch of gold coins into my waistband.

Then I run. The directions Emma gave me blaze through my mind, turn left at the statue of your great-great-grandfather. Crawl through the bush next to the chipped pillar. It’s nighttime and the palace is asleep, the handheld lamps everyone carries alerting me of human presence from a distance away.

There’s a small dog hole near one of the walls, so small it’s a tight squeeze for Emma. The dense shrubbery that shrouds the gate and walls decoratively covers it completely, but by sheer luck she managed to find it. I take a deep breath, my heart pounding as I look at the shrub Emma explained. It’s all that stands between me and freedom.

And then I’m past it, belly crawling onto the wide street that is blocked off by guards. Emma’s information is especially thorough, as she even helped me time when the guard shift ended and they swapped places. I look back at the imperial palace with a bitter grin. Even after studying political science and preparing for a future in politics, I still got bitten by this place. I know I won’t miss it in the slightest.

I don’t notice the faint gold perimeter surrounding the palace suddenly glow brightly, then disappear, so focused am I on leaving.

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