Prologue

The daughter never wanted to forget her mother or her death. Not even once. No matter how painful and hurtful it may have been, she did not try to get rid of the pain that built up as the years went by. Forgetting about her mother was the same as forgetting about her roots — it was the same as her being completely separated from something that she had wanted since she was born.

However, as soon as she woke up from her sleep, the princess knew instinctually that the time had come.

Now.

The palace was busy even before the sun was up. The delicious scent of flowers was flowing through the air and fancy music was playing. Making energizing noise, the servants were moving busily back and forth.

Everyone was preparing to welcome the leader of the continent; the devil of the war; the monster with red eyes; the heir of the dragon; the owner of the gray palace. The one who everyone respected yet feared, and who everyone was proud of yet scared of — it was the return of the king.

It was time for the princess to forget about the root of life. She wouldn’t have lived if she knew things were going to be like this. She knew that God had abandoned her. All the things she’d known seemed especially cruel today.

The king who all the countries adored was going to invite the princess to supper.

And then to his room.

And then to his bed…

Her thoughts cut off as she grabbed her comforter tightly. However, it did not help her stop shivering as if she had just gotten out of freezing water. Although the room was filled with warmth, she could not control her body, just like a thin branch against a strong wind.

The princess tried to get up with her hand, but then she gave up after she kept pushing her own hair down. She tried again, then gave up again. The sound made her look pitiful. As if laughing at its owner, her hair fell onto the bed miserably. A deep sigh filled the room then disappeared. The princess laid on her side and rolled her legs up all the way to her waist, rounding her body like a caterpillar. She mumbled like a stutterer.

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The princess shut her eyes.

Scene 1: The Meeting

“Your highness, it is time to go.”

She raised her hands the way a butterfly opens its wings. The princess slowly stood up after she waved at the servant who came to take her. She had purple hair with a hint of pink and it was gently brushed by her servants. Her dress, with golden flower embroidery, was slightly dragged on the floor. On the floor, a carpet colored with red, brown, yellow, and dark green was laid. The princess already knew that it was a luxury import from a different continent.

Not only the carpet, but also the paintings on the wall, the ceramics and decorations around the room, the dressing room and the bathroom within this big room, the bed with elaborate lace, and red curtains by the window were all dazzling. It had been about ten days since she had been covered in this splendor, and all the red and gold that her eyes were catching was giving her a headache.

This was the palace of the king, Ottoinette. Although the war was over, things that the princess received from enemy countries were limited. She was not going to show her real thoughts to anyone that easily.

The hallway that she walked out to also was filled with splendor. In the hallway with a bunch of gold sticking on the wall, she moved with gentle steps.

She was the princess from Skara, who was staying in Monterobis. Her name was Ashite-Ploca. In this palace full of fame and luxury, not a single soul was looking for her here.

Even in her palace back home, Ashite had to remind herself of her own name once in a while so as to not forget it. No one was calling her name. That was how her country was and that was how her palace was, and that was also why Ashite was pushed to Monterobis without anyone taking care of her. The king kicked Ashite out as if he had been waiting for that moment.

Since she left her country after the war, she never left her room in this palace. In the past ten days, she was only breathing and barely eating, just enough for her to continue her own life.

The king never looked for her.

It was said that the king has not returned to the palace yet. The king’s response to the princess’s arrival was cold.

“I shall invite you to the supper right as I arrive at the palace,” he said.

Not knowing when that day would be — the day that would suffocate her — she was not able to swallow any food. She did not feel any hunger. All she could do was curl up on her bed.

To be frank, she was expecting to spend a disgusting, nasty time on the king’s bed on the night she arrived at the palace. No one dared to call her the king’s trinket in either Skara or Monterobis, but there were things that the princess could understand without being directly told. One such thing was the destiny of a captive from a country that lost a war, especially if that captive was a powerless, poor lady like herself. Obviously, she was going to end her own life before having to spend a night like that.

But there was something that she needed to do, a task that was grabbing onto her. That’s why she had a lingering attachment to her life; there was that one thing that she tried to push away yet could not, left on her mind like an old scar.

Nevertheless, she would rather die than become a trinket.

Since the servants were worried that she would leave scars on her body, not a single piece of cutlery was given to her in the past ten days. She could not attempt to kill herself, or even try to harm herself. However, now, during this supper where she would meet the king for the first time, it might have been possible.

For her entire life, she never wanted anything more than peace, but the heartless God was not willing to listen to her prayer. That’s why she ended up here. Just for that one thing that she wanted, she gave up everything else, killed everything else, and hid everything else — and she ended up being a captive. What else would she be other than a captive when her life was in the king’s hand?

Now that the king was back in the palace and had invited her over, she knew that she would die after a life of being his trinket. She would rather end her own life.

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Ashite stopped thinking. She felt like her brain was not functioning anymore. She acknowledged her stupidity. There was no way. She was a powerless princess from a powerless country.

A princess. The word made her laugh.

It was just a name. She could not expect a thing wearing just a thin veil called “princess.” There was only one thing she could do.

At this supper, her first time meeting the king, she would make the king aim his knife at her.