A woman's face was faintly visible beneath the ice helm, though her features remained indistinct. Dolores thought of the Bestowal's origin and its somber tale, giving her a good idea of where the archer’s form had co from.
The maid, Julia, stood at a distance, cautiously observing the archer that had appeared behind her princess. Only after receiving permission did she inch forward, extend a finger to tap its armor, and then quickly snatch her hand back.
"How does it feel?"
Dolores inquired, gazing out the window.
"It's cold."
The maid replied honestly.
A corner of Dolores's mouth twitched, but she stopped her naive servant from offering any further opinions. With a wave of her hand, the archer vanished. She leaned against the window, feeling the cold night wind pour into the tower, and rested her hands on the fra as she let out a long sigh.
"My intuition wasn't wrong. A Bestowal used by a great ancestor truly does favor their descendants."
Her eyes shone as she gazed at the purple star in the sky, the one representing fate. As a daughter of the Stuart family, she had special channels for acquiring certain information, and so she was well aware that the end of the epoch was approaching.
Dolores cared little for what the end of the epoch truly ant. What she longed for were the opportunities the prophecies spoke of, for the savior who was to appear. Everyone had a purpose in this world, and she refused to believe hers was to be like a princess from the great author Mr. Williams’s fairy tales, destined to spend the rest of her life in a castle.
Though the stories were, admittedly, quite beautiful.
What she craved was a much wider world.
The thought of being a princess imdiately led to thoughts of fairy tales, which in turn led to Mr. Williams, then to her pen pal, and finally to the long-overdue letter. Only on this particular subject did Dolores’s imagination leap about with such abandon.
"Tomorrow, don't forget to..."
"Check the mailbox at Morris Manor. I know, Your Highness. You remind every single day."
Julia grumbled good-naturedly, tucking the small box that once held the chess pieces into her apron pocket. Before reading the "Stranger's Story Collection," neither mistress nor maid had ever imagined that Mr. Williams, beyond his work in mathematics, possessed such profound literary talent.
While there was no concrete proof that the two n nad "Jenkins R. Williams" were one and the sa, the fact that they both lived in Nolan and shared the exact sa na was far too much of a coincidence to ignore.
If Dolores had access to the Hamparvo Kingdom’s spy network in the Fidektri Kingdom, she would have undoubtedly ordered a thorough investigation into just what kind of man this Mr. Williams truly was.
"But are you sure it will be alright, using a fake piece as a replacent?"
Julia asked, her voice laced with worry. She was in charge of the entire plan, and while every step had been executed flawlessly, she remained deeply concerned.
"Don't worry," Dolores reassured her. "The royal vault is notoriously difficult to open. Unless absolutely necessary, my father and the others only open it three tis a year for inspections. And the last one was just yesterday!"
Dolores’s thoughts might be erratic, and she often ca up with startling ideas, but no one could deny that she was the most brilliant of the Stuart family’s current generation.
If the Hamparvo Kingdom had ever had a reigning queen, and if, in the eyes of others, she hadn't wasted her days on novels, salons, and a variety of tedious lessons, the young n of the Stuart family likely would not have allowed her to live to see this day.
Julia had been by Dolores’s side since she was a little girl. To be more precise, it was just like in the stories: a young princess, out on an excursion, spotted a child she fancied among the beggars on the street and took her in.
Dolores was willful, impulsive, and despised rules, but Julia still adored her. It was not a fondness born of so special sentint, but simply a devotion that made her willing to sacrifice everything for the princess.
This was a sentint shared by most of Dolores's followers. It wasn't the result of any clever calculation on her part; the artless, innocent girl simply possessed a unique and captivating charisma.
On the morning of November 1st, Julia used the excuse of delivering letters to the princess's friends to visit the familiar Morris Manor. It was the princess's secret property in Ruen and also served as her primary correspondence address.
The winters in Ruen were snowy. In Julia’s mory, snowflakes drifted down almost every day once the season began.
But the snow here rarely lted, so there was no need to carry a cumberso umbrella when going out.
Compared to the southern kingdoms, Ruen’s municipal planning was unremarkable. The streets between the towering buildings were paved with stone, but whether due to poor craftsmanship or issues with the local geology, the ground was always uneven.
Even though she was no Enchanter like Dolores, Julia had received professional training. She and her attendants quickly rged into the morning crowds. After a few turns, Julia vanished from sight, while a woman of similar build and identical clothing took her place at the center of the entourage.
Wearing a scarf and a thick hat, the maid braved the snow and boarded a waiting carriage at a street corner. The coachman gave her a discreet glance before guiding the carriage through a narrow alley and back onto the main road.
Morris Manor had its own staff of servants responsible for cleaning, but of course, none of them knew the identity of their true master.
The snow in front of the manor had already been swept clean. As Julia stepped down from the carriage, she saw a short woman with a suitcase and a package in her hands, examining the street sign.
She was quite striking, and her short stature likely appealed to n with particular tastes. But her gaze was unlike that of an ordinary woman; if anything, it was similar to the princess’s when she wasn't being mischievous.
Miss Miller saw soone approaching and, with a single glance, deduced the woman's likely status. She was puzzled as to why a royal maid would be here so early in the morning, but since she was only delivering a letter, she had no desire to pry into matters that might bring her trouble.
"Hello. Excuse , is this Albart Street? I'm sorry, but the sign is broken."
Julia lowered her head slightly and blinked, affecting a look of confusion. Inwardly, she wondered why this woman, speaking the common tongue of the Fidektri Kingdom, was here so early.
Even if she were a spy, it made no sense for her to be near the third princess, the one with the least chance of inheriting the throne.
"My apologies."
Miss Miller realized she was no longer in Nolan. Shaking her head with a smile, she skillfully switched to the language of the Hamparvo Kingdom, her words carrying a slight accent as she politely repeated her question.
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