In the Empress's chambers...
Emperor Oliver sat beneath golden lantern light, reviewing military reports and grain records. His face was drawn—lines etched by war, age, and politics. The door flung open. Maria stormed in, her robe swirling like fire.
"That girl again! I'm sick of dealing with her tantrums."
Oliver looked up with a frown.
"What happened this time?"
Maria sat down heavily on the velvet couch, recounting the incident in an exasperated tone. The cushions softened beneath her, easing the tension in her spine—but not her irritation. Oliver slammed the reports on the table.
"Enough. We must marry her off."
His voice was cold.
"Pick any prince. A border nation, a small state—whatever. She's no use here. Too dim to manage even a small kingdom. Why do we waste food on her?"
Maria nodded. Her eyes never softened.
In the far wing of the palace...
Behind a locked door, in a cold, unlit room, Esther sat curled beside a pile of opened books. Her throat ached from silent crying. Her tears had dried on her cheeks long ago.
"I'm trying... but why does everything I do fail?"
"I'm useless... even Elder Sister is kind, Suzy is brilliant, and Mother still does so much..."
She glanced at the shadowy corners of her prison-like room.
"I just... want to be with them..."
That night, in the depth of stillness, the sound of careful footsteps echoed down the servant hall. A figure, cloaked in the dark, moved quietly into the kitchen. The hearth had gone cold. Still, the figure packed two full plates of food and crept back upstairs.
Outside the locked door, the figure bent down and slid the plates through the lower gap. Then—three soft knocks. A familiar rhythm. Inside, Esther sat up.
Her eyes widened. She crawled forward, reaching the plates. Her thin fingers trembled.
"E-Elder Sister...?"
From the other side, a soft voice responded:
"Yes. Eat, Esther. You must be starving..."
Sierra rested her back against the door. The chill of the floor seeped into her bones.
"I'm sorry. I should've stopped them. I wanted to... but—"
"No," Esther interrupted gently, biting into the bun. "Mother's right. I have to study harder. It's my fault."
Sierra's voice cracked.
"Silly girl... It's not right. This isn't love. Esther... I have a friend in the Western Empire. If you want... I'll help you escape. I'll meet you once in a month. "
Esther paused mid-bite. Then she shook her head.
"Why would I run... when my family is here?"
"You don't understand my condition, Elder Sister. I'm fine. They still love me."
Across the door, Sierra clenched her fists. Esther turned toward the mirror by the corner. Her own reflection stared back—pale skin, hollow cheeks, dark circles beneath her eyes. She smiled faintly.
"Mother is right. I'm not good enough. But if I keep trying... maybe they'll stop being disappointed."
"Maybe... they'll be proud."
"Maybe... they'll love me."
Sierra shut her eyes.
"Why, Esther...? Why do you still love them?"
Esther turned her eyes to the small window, where frost gathered on the edges.
"Because they're my family. That's what daughters do, right?"
Sierra stood slowly, her heart heavier than ever.
"Good night, silly girl... I'll come again tomorrow."
Esther didn't answer. She looked again into the mirror—touched the reflection gently, as though it were someone else. Her voice was barely a whisper.
"They will love me."
.
.
.
The days passed, one by one, like dry leaves swept by a cold wind.
The SilverCrest Empire continued to wither beneath the weight of famine and decay. With their own granaries nearly empty, the imperial court scrambled to negotiate trade agreements with neighboring empires. Every day brought new diplomatic letters, harsher terms, and graver warnings.
And yet, deep inside the palace, not all suffered equally.
Esther's world remained unchanged. Each morning, before the sun had risen, she was woken by the sound of footsteps and cold water on her face. She was expected to study without pause, her only break a small meal in the afternoon. Then came the endless etiquette drills—walking, kneeling, greeting, hosting—until her knees ached and her voice hoarsened.
At night, while others dined in warmth, she sat beneath dim candlelight, books open before her, her head lolling forward in exhaustion before sleep claimed her.
The days blurred together. Monotonous. Silent. Suffocating.
One evening, as twilight cloaked the palace in shades of blue and gold, Emperor Oliver and Empress Maria retired to their chamber. The heavy doors closed behind them, muffling the whispers of the court.
They sank into their cushions, their bodies weary but their minds seeking peace.
Suddenly, the door creaked open again.
A burst of soft fragrance drifted into the room—jasmine and peony, light and sweet. A young woman entered with graceful steps, the golden embroidery on her gown glittering under the lantern light.
She smiled brightly, like the world outside hadn't crumbled. Suzy De Geire stood before them—radiant, confident, adored.
"Father, Mother," she chimed. "Are you resting well? I've brought your favorite tea."
Maria and Oliver smiled at her.
Suzy started pouring tea for them. She placed the cups infront of them and looked at them with sweet smile. The scent of ginseng tea lingered faintly in the background.
"Mom… Dad…I found something," she said softly, as though she were sharing a cherished secret.
"A way to help our empire. A real solution."
Maria raised an eyebrow, sipping slowly. Oliver gestured for her to sit beside him, brushing her head affectionately.
"Speak, my child"
"Our Empire seems to be in some sort of curse. I researched few books and came across a solution."
Oliver's hand twitched. He gestured her to speak further. Suzy smiled and started narrating them a solution. She couldn't control her happiness. But her mom and dad were shocked.
Maria said nothing. The tea in her cup had gone cold. A long moment passed before Oliver finally spoke.
"You're sure it will work? It's a dangerous gamble. What if it backfires on us?"
"Don't worry, dad. I studied every account. If we follow the steps exactly, the ritual will succeed. Our lands will heal. The disease will vanish. The droughts will end."
"Besides, we can get rid of big sis. She's a ghost in this palace. A blemish on our reputation. Even if she marries into another royal house, her incompetence will shame us and ruin future alliances. If anything backfires, big sis will be the one who will suffer."
Oliver leaned back, exhaling heavily. A shadow passed through his gaze.
"We can't say anything to elder sis. She won't agree. Let's start the preparation. In three days, our problems will vanish."