I raised my hand again, unable to control the anger that was welling up in me.
Immediately afterwards, a snapping sound was heard, and a cold pain spread through my palm.
I, who had assumed that he would be stopped this time, shrugged my shoulders in surprise. However, the person who had actually been slapped had an indifferent expression.
"I will consider this as payment for touching Your Highness's body without permission."
He said, tapping his smooth cheek with his gauntleted fingertips, where not even a handprint remained.
"But I have no intention of enduring your mischief any longer. Please remember that I am no longer your Royal Guard."
Then he got out of the carriage and closed the door.
I sat motionless against the back of my chair for a while, then looked out the window.
Barcas was nowhere to be seen, as if he had left his seat. Instead, all that was visible were servants unloading chests from the cart and the absent-minded knights urging them on.
I wanted to run out right away and make an example of those who disobeyed my orders, but if I did, Barcas would not stay still. He would never tolerate cruelty toward his subordinates.
When I remembered the icy gaze that had been looking at me the day I had cut off the hair of the maid who had buried her face in the coat that Barcas had left behind, my fingers automatically retracted.
I nervously drew the curtains. Then I curled up on the seat, clutching my burning palms.
How long had it been like that? The carriage slowly began to move with the sound of a trumpet signaling the start of the journey. It seemed as if the journey that would surely become a lifelong nightmare was about to begin.
I stared at the ray of light streaming through the crack in the window for a moment, then pulled the curtains back even more carefully. Then, buried in the dim darkness, I thought about how nice it would be if this procession led to hell.
If we all went to the grave together like this, if it were all over, there would be nothing I would be happier about...
***
The royal pilgrimage procession was to follow the footsteps of the first emperor, Darian, who founded the Roem Empire, along the winding Silviska River from north to west, and then from west to north again.
When this continent was divided into ten kingdoms: Whedon, Dristan, Baltor, Gwyn, Osiria, Rivadon, Arex, Valis, Doomnos, and Sheerhan Darian Roem Guirta, a member of the royal family of Gwyn, fled to the central region to escape the invasion of the Baltor Kingdom and became the adopted son of Duke Wallender, the leader of the Osirian people, and his maternal uncle.
Afterwards, Darian, who had united the various tribes of Osiris, gathered strong supporters from each country and launched a movement to unify the nations. After fighting dozens of wars for 20 years, he achieved the feat of uniting ten kingdoms into one and building a huge empire.
The grand procession that began from the imperial palace was a sacred ceremony that followed in his footsteps, and an important event that widely announced the imperial majesty by presenting the descendants of the great Emperor to the people of the empire. Therefore, the scale of the procession was incredibly splendid and magnificent.
Led by the Crown Prince, who was mounted on a huge golden horse, a hundred or so Imperial Guards marched powerfully through the city center, carrying flags embroidered with the Imperial emblem, followed by a carriage carrying the First Princess Ayla Roem Guirta and her Guards.
Citizens who gathered in the streets to see Darian's descendants cheered enthusiastically.
The Knights of Roem, with hundreds of years of history and tradition, led the procession with solemn faces, wearing pure white battle uniforms embroidered with the imperial emblem over orichalcum armor, known as the mineral of the gods, while on their right, infantry carrying silver shields with the emblem of the guard engraved on their backs advanced at a steady pace.
The excitement of the citizens grew stronger as the soldiers marched splendidly. Women who had gathered along the roadside scattered colorful flower petals toward the knights, and the minstrels sang songs blessing the descendants of Darian.
As if to respond to the cheers of the citizens, the First Princess opened the window and appeared. The people all let out exclamations.
Could there be anyone else in the world who is as worthy of the title of Princess as Ayla Roem Guirta?
An elegant and upright posture like a lily, clear skin with a pinkish tint, glossy dark brown hair, and large emerald eyes...
People craned their necks like turtles to get a closer look at her lovely figure. Some even chased after the carriage as if they were possessed. If it hadn't been surrounded by knights, the Princess's carriage would have been completely surrounded by enthusiastic citizens.
The people, gripped by intense excitement, showered the lovely Princess with words of blessing without ceasing.
But when a magnificent carriage appeared next, the festive atmosphere became as quiet as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over it. The knights looked around with nervous eyes.
Those who had been cheering loudly until just a moment ago were now quietly whispering something in each other's ears, holding their breath. It seemed as if they had noticed that the infamous second Princess was sitting in the carriage.
Those who had gathered on the street slowly stood back, looking at them with a mixture of curiosity and hostility, and some made the sign of the cross or spat on the ground. The knights sighed bitterly. It was not surprising that they reacted like that. There was no citizen living in the capital who had not heard of Thalia Roem Guirta's cruel nature.
The Emperor's illegitimate child, who had caused a stir throughout the empire since birth, continued to cause scandalous incidents every day and caused an uproar in the capital even after becoming the official Princess.
There were more than a few servants who worked in her villa and were kicked out after being beaten to death, and some of them even died violent deaths. Naturally, the imperial people's gaze toward the Second Princess could not help but be cold.
"How about opening the curtains and saying hello to people?"
The unbearable knight, Edric Rubon, approached the carriage and cautiously made a suggestion. But there was no response from inside.
He looked at the window with thick curtains drawn with displeasure.
The Second Princess had been cooped up in the carriage since the procession began, not even showing her nose. It seemed that she was really upset about the altercation with Lord Sheerkhan.
He swallowed the sigh that was rising up his throat.
'Since one's face is half and half, if she shows a little bit of herself, people's reactions will change...'
In some ways, he thought she was a rather cunning woman.
If she were to act even a little bit coy, there would be more than a few men who would try to give her everything she had, but Thalia Roem Guirta acted as if she were determined to be hated. She was so sharp and harassed those around her that even her beautiful appearance, which resembled her mother's, seemed to fade.
How many knights of the guard have fallen from grace because they could not stand her terrible temper? Sir Sheerkhan, who had been by her side for seven years, seemed like a saint.
'It doesn't seem like he's been treated with utmost care all this time...'
Edric turned his gaze forward, recalling the sight of his superior throwing the Second Princess into the carriage like a piece of luggage. Between the knights marching in an orderly manner, he could vaguely see the figure of Barcas, wearing a black hood pulled down low.
That person also seemed to be sick and tired of Thalia Roem Guirta.
In some ways, it was surprising. How much evil had she committed over the years that such an old-fashioned man, so obsessed with loyalty to the royal family, would commit such a radical act?
He would never have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. It occurred to him that perhaps the Second Princess had a natural talent for provoking hostility in others.
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