Chapter 9

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 9

Chapter Title: The Lily Palace's Cherished Nuisance (1)

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Floyd's resolute voice finally made Roxiana feel true despair.

She was truly prepared to do anything. She could wield a sword and head to the battlefield, and if he desired, she could even attend him through the night.

To meet her family at least once while wandering this world without returning to God's embrace, to obtain such a restless death, Roxiana had vowed to do whatever it took.

Roxiana clutched the hem of his clothes with both hands. The hands gripping his garment trembled endlessly.

"Your Highness the Grand Duke, please... please..."

"Enough, Princess."

A growl-like voice slipped from between his lips.

"I'm in a very foul mood right now."

He shook off her hands as if casting them away and abruptly stood. There wasn't a shred of hesitation in his retreating back.

The despair she had momentarily forgotten came crashing back down on Roxiana. The brief flicker of hope crumbled, tearing at her heart.

In the agony of flesh ripping and bones gnawing, Roxiana let out a scream. Like a beast gravely wounded, she curled up on the floor and wept as if vomiting blood.

Even as Floyd left the bedroom, her desperate wails reached his ears. He wanted to turn back, grab her arms, shake her paper-thin body, and shout for her to snap out of it—but he held himself back.

Yes, cry. Scream. Pour out that despair like blood until, someday, you'll want to live. Until you think it's okay to live.

Once outside, Floyd spotted a pale-faced maid standing there. She had clearly heard Roxiana's cries too, clutching her skirt tightly with anxious eyes.

Floyd glanced at her and said,

"Serve the Princess with the utmost care and sincerity, leaving nothing wanting. Lay carpets on every path she treads, select and reselect every fruit she eats, and treat her only to the finest!"

The previous afternoon, when His Highness the Grand Duke entered the Grand Duke's Palace with a woman in his arms, the servants were utterly stunned, as if their breaths had stopped.

When the barbarians provoked the knights of the Grand Duchy,

"Torkan's Grand Duke is impotent,"

they would sing, a testament to how widely known Grand Duke Floyd Latan's misogyny was.

Families coveting the position of Grand Duchess sent their most beautiful daughters as maids, under the guise of vacations or as envoys offering aid—but not a single woman ever caught Floyd's eye.

Floyd needed no assistance with bathing or dressing; even when he did, he relied on valets or manservants, never allowing a woman into his bedroom.

Rumors even circulated that Torkan's Grand Duke must prefer men over women.

Such rumors tarnishing the Grand Duke's honor reached Floyd's ears, but he merely laughed heartily, neither raging nor denying them, which only fueled the gossip further.

So, when this Grand Duke, who wouldn't spare a single hair to any woman, arrived cradling an unconscious one, the servants had no choice but to be shocked.

Among them, the most stunned was the steward, Marquis Jenail Coiton.

Jenail had once been the guard knight for Floyd's mother, Eliensa Latan. After her death in some incident, he had protected Floyd and witnessed much. Thus, he knew and understood why Floyd despised women so intensely—and pitied him for it.

But with Floyd reaching marriageable age yet showing no leniency toward women, Jenail was inwardly seething when Floyd suddenly brought one in—he nearly toppled over in surprise.

"Your Highness, that lady is...?"

"Kanta's Princess."

"Ah."

The moment he heard Floyd's reply, Jenail felt as if struck in the back of the head. Of all people, the one to crack His Highness's resolve was Kanta's Princess.

Jenail was well aware of the tragic events that had befallen Kanta and the Franche Royal Family.

"So, Kanta's Princess survived."

Jenail responded calmly while examining Roxiana. Her disheveled hair, as if untouched for ages; her dirt-streaked face; her bony frame; and the sunflower etched on her collarbone.

The instant he saw it, Jenail lost control of his expression.

"That is...?"

Realizing what Jenail had spotted, Floyd pulled Roxiana's collar to cover the slave brand on her collarbone.

"Don't concern yourself with it."

"Yes, understood."

Jenail had a granddaughter about Roxiana's age, so he felt pity for this ill-fated princess.

"The Princess will stay in the Lily Palace. Assign capable maids to attend her."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Jenail obeyed without further questions, but Head Maid Elledrun Hills Countess harbored different thoughts.

When sharp-eyed maids overheard Floyd and Jenail's conversation and observed Roxiana, reporting the details, Elledrun grew displeased.

Roxiana's plight was pitiable, but Kanta had become a colony, the Franche Royal Family had fallen, and their sole survivor had become a slave.

For Roxiana, announced dead by Gania Kingdom, to be alive as a slave meant Gania had enslaved and sold her off.

Torkan had banned slavery, and Floyd often smashed slave traders to free their captives—so rescuing her was understandable. But bringing a former slave to the Lily Palace?

The Lily Palace was reserved for the most esteemed of rare guests, the most beautiful and luxurious place in the entire Grand Duke's Palace. It was no place for a woman who was now a slave, princess or not.

The scandalous tale of a nation's princess turned slave spread rapidly through the palace. Even with the steward and head maid silencing tongues, rumors among servants were hard to contain.

Thus, no maids from good families wanted to serve Roxiana. Attending a slave was deeply dishonorable. Slaves weren't just below commoners—they weren't treated as people at all.

Elledrun, who had flawlessly managed the maids until then, didn't want any disturbances from this unwelcome guest of unknown stay.

Yet she couldn't ignore the Grand Duke's orders, so after much deliberation, she selected a quick-witted, nimble-handed maid from the lower ranks to attend Roxiana.

And so, Petria, the woodcutter's daughter, was chosen as Roxiana's maid.

Her fellow maids pitied Petria for drawing the short straw, but Petria looked forward to meeting Roxiana.

'A princess.'

Princess or former princess, a princess was a princess. Petria worked in the palace kitchens but had never seen one.

'I wonder what she's like.'

Petria waited in the antechamber outside the bedroom until permission came. As Kirshan Lepe, who had been inside since before her arrival, emerged, he spotted her.

"Wait a bit longer. His Highness the Grand Duke wishes to see you first."

Those words only swelled Petria's anticipation.

Everyone knew how much His Highness the Grand Duke loathed women. For him not only to carry one in his arms but to request an immediate meeting upon her awakening—it was only natural to be curious and excited.

Soon, Floyd entered without sparing Petria a glance and went into the bedroom.

Muffled voices conversed for a while. Curious as she was, Petria remembered her place as a maid and stood silently, waiting for Floyd to emerge.

When the bedroom door finally opened after a long time, bloodcurdling screams poured out.

Would it sound like this even if bones were shaved and skin peeled thin?

Stunned by the unexpected wails, Petria felt the blood drain from her body as she looked up at Floyd emerging from the room.

Floyd appeared utterly furious, yet the words from his mouth were an order completely at odds with his expression.

"Serve the Princess with the utmost care and sincerity, leaving nothing wanting. Lay carpets on every path she treads, select and reselect every fruit she eats, and treat her only to the finest!"

Even after Floyd left, Roxiana's screams continued. Petria couldn't bring herself to enter and waited outside for the cries to subside.

What on earth could make someone wail like that?

Born the daughter of a woodcutter and living a life free of great upheavals, Petria couldn't even imagine.

The screams echoing off the ceiling and pounding the floor grew hoarse, the sobs lengthening, until at last, silence fell. Only then did Petria knock on the bedroom door.

"Princess, may I come in?"

No reply came. The ensuing silence sent a chill through her. Worried the Princess might have taken her own life, she opened the door without permission.

In that instant, the sight of Roxiana made Petria gasp in shock.

Roxiana was truly, utterly breathtaking. Far more beautiful—several times, dozens of times—than any princess Petria had imagined; she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Kneeling beside the bed, Roxiana was in no state anyone could call normal, no matter how kindly they looked.

Her thin dress was crumpled, her hair a tangled mess, her face pallid, her lips dry, cracked, and torn. Yet the light streaming through the window seemed to shine solely on her, dazzling the eyes.

After a moment of staring, Petria snapped to her senses and hurried over to support her.