Chapter 109

In the outskirts of Wirral Province, adjacent to the State, lay an isolated monastery.

It was a facility where around thirty nuns spent their lives in faith and labor.

But nuns were not the only ones residing here.

…

A soft rustling sound filled the air.

An innocent-looking figure with neatly pinned-up black hair dressed in a coarse linen dress sat amidst the nuns. Unlike her delicate appearance, her attire was simple and modest.

Princess Anais, the third imperial princess, deftly untangled a spool of thread with practiced ease.

‘I guess I’ve gotten used to this work.’

She was currently weaving lace.

The tools were fairly simple: several spools of tightly wound thread, a knitting basket on the table, some pins and a pattern guide.

Anyone could have acquired these items if they wanted to.

The secret to creating high-value goods with such simple tools lay in skill.

Anais quickly worked the thread, unraveling and intertwining it with focused concentration.

Swoosh. Click, click.

Her technique using eight thread spools had reached near-perfection. It was hard to believe she was only in her first year of labor. Though she was currently weaving simple patterns for tablecloths, her talent was already recognized by the entire convent.

“Anais, your skills are truly remarkable.”

“…”

“I’m being sincere. When I was your age, I was only doing menial tasks.”

The elderly nun, who had been supervising the work, smiled warmly at Anais.

It didn’t seem like she was praising her just because she was a princess.

‘Why would she have a reason to?’

Anais glanced up briefly at the nun’s face. This nun had spent her entire life in the convent and would continue to do so until her death. Why would she try to ingratiate herself to a fallen princess?

It was undoubtedly a sincere compliment.

However, Anais didn’t feel particularly pleased at being praised. Instead, it filled her with bittersweet thoughts.

How had she ended up in a position where her weaving skills were what earned her recognition?

Looking around, she saw other women in similar situations, weaving lace with weary expressions. The less motivated ones were merely winding thread onto spools. What was the point of being recognized as talented here?

The old nun continued her praise, seemingly unaware of Anais’s inner turmoil.

“Anais, starting tomorrow, I’d like to assign you to a new task.”

“New task?”

“I believe you can quickly adapt to more intricate needlework. I’ve been doing lacework for over 40 years, but I’ve never seen someone with your talent.”

“…”

“Even Helen, with eight years of experience, and Loren with nine, can’t match your skills. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Anais’s face blanked out at the nun’s announcement.

Though her hands continued working busily, her mind was filled with unsettling thoughts.

She wasn’t afraid of the new task. She’d adapt somehow. The nun was right – her talent was exceptional.

But she felt herself gradually adapting to the life of a laborer.

‘This is going to be my life from now on.’

Her daily routine was extremely simple:

5 a.m. wake-up call.

Cold water washing followed by morning prayers.

The rest of the day was entirely devoted to labor.

Her main job was lacework, but she also had to tend to the vegetable garden and herb garden whenever she had a moment to spare.

The only saving grace was that her noble status spared her from the truly hard labor (laundry and patient care). But it didn’t provide much comfort. The fact remained that most of her day was spent in labor.

Is this place really a convent? Or is it more like a labor camp?

While Anais was lost in her thoughts,

One of the older women working nearby spoke up. A widow who had been exiled here after losing her husband years ago, her mind no longer fully intact from years of isolation.

“Princess Anais, I really envy you!”

“…”

“A lace piece made with 12 spools is usually used for underwear or dresses, and it’s extremely expensive. Even a husband working at a bank or trading company would have trouble affording it. But with your skills, you’ll reach that level in no time!”

“That’s enough, I’m not interested.”

“Really envy you! You’re making progress! I loved lace when I was young!”

Anais decided not to respond.

She didn’t care whether her lace ended up in curtains or negligees. Her focus on the work was purely to pass the time quicker. She had no real interest in it, though she did have a natural talent for handiwork.

Swoosh, swoosh.

Anais quickly finished enough lace for one tablecloth.

“Wow, you’re fast!”

The exclamation from nearby didn’t catch her attention. Her mind was occupied reliving the face of the person who had condemned her to this life.

…

Evening. Anais returned to her quarters after finishing her duties for the day.

Her only free time.

Honestly, there wasn’t much she could do in this limited time.

‘Every day is the same anyway.’

Though an important part of her routine involved keeping up with news from the State.

She was mostly cut off from outside communication. Though letters were permitted, she could only receive them, and those had to go through censorship first.

The person who wrote to her most frequently was surprisingly not her friends or parents, but her half-sister Siena. Though her letters seemed like comforting words at first glance, a closer look revealed they were actually clever attacks, taunts, and attempts to corner her.

‘Crazy bitch.’

It was even scarier knowing she did it purely for amusement.

However, Siena’s psychological attacks had become less frequent lately.

Her primary source of information now came from her personal knights. The knights who were, technically, in exile with her. Even though the royal family had fallen, Anais was still a princess after all. Security details were still mandatory.

Even communicating with the knights wasn’t easy.

‘They subtly look down on me too.’

On the surface, they were polite.

But they were reluctant to share outside news, making various excuses. Sometimes they even openly showed their annoyance. Perhaps they didn’t want to have to show special respect to a princess who spent twelve hours a day weaving lace.

If their cold treatment didn’t bother her, she’d be lying.

But since there was no other way, she forced herself to ask.

“Any news from outside?”

“I’ll first give Your Highness the latest from the State. The remains of the Hayden and Ian brothers, who died in that violent incident, were buried in a public cemetery. Her Majesty Victoria originally ordered the remains be scattered in the river, but the Minister of Military Affairs requested a proper burial.”

For some reason, the knight was much more courteous than usual.

Not understanding the reason, but there was no harm in it.

“Did Victoria really do that?”

“Yes, confirmed.”

“Insane. She’s definitely on medication. For sure.”

“As for your other contacts… I managed to gather some news about your academy friends. Iris, a classmate of yours, was expelled after it was discovered she was managing an opium field with her boyfriend.”

“That girl was always so nice. Could be another of Siena’s tricks.”

“That part, I’m not sure about.”

“What else?”

“Leon Rothe Dale made significant contributions in eliminating a group of demon worshippers that appeared in Lebspadow. There are even reports that he personally slayed a recently manifested demon. If true, it’s quite an extraordinary feat.”

“Really? Our senior?”

Anais looked blankly and tilted her head in surprise.

She still vividly remembered the last time she saw Leon Rothe Dale.

His cheerful waves and smiling face were unforgettable. When she heard he became a master, and even more surprisingly, a punishment squad member shortly after, she was admittedly baffled. But it wasn’t entirely unbelievable – there was an explanation for his eccentric behavior.

Alan Medoff.

It must have been one of his tricks. Leon in a weakened state must have fallen into one of Alan’s traps…

Ah.

Anais’s expression hardened as she was about to blame Alan, remembering that she herself had been the one to distribute the health syrup in the beginning. Honestly, she had even shed tears thinking about Senior Rothe Dale in the early days of her exile. He always seemed a bit odd, and she wondered how far he had fallen now.

But her brief guilt quickly turned into renewed anger.

‘Alan Medoff.’

Everything about her misfortune could be traced back to Alan Medoff.

A living disaster.

In her imagination, Anais had killed Alan in countless horrifying ways countless times. Burned alive, flayed a hundred times while still living, stoned to death in the middle of the square… The list went on.

She never tired of killing him again and again.

The only frustration was her inability to turn those fantasies into reality.

“The bathwater is ready, Your Highness.”

The handmaiden offered with an unusually deferential attitude.

What had gotten into this woman? Though Anais wasn’t about to refuse, it was strange. Given her current situation, there wasn’t much benefit in showing loyalty.

‘No harm in it.’

Anais slowly nodded. While waiting for the bath to be prepared, she returned to contemplating ways to kill Alan in her mind.

It wasn’t like she had much else to do in the convent.

**

I couldn’t just sit idly and wait for Anais to become my political partner.

That was the thought that came to mind as soon as I returned home.

Was I afraid to marry a woman who hated me? That was a concern I used to have. After all, marrying her meant risking getting stabbed in my sleep.

Now that I thought about it, dealing with Anais wasn’t that difficult at all. Keeping her under control was relatively easy.

Even Empress Lianhua probably wouldn’t have bothered making any real decisions with Anais. She might still have value as a strategic piece, but certainly not as someone to collaborate with on political schemes. She’s probably still aimlessly locked away in that monastery.

The real reason I want to avoid Anais is because of her elder sisters.

‘Those two wouldn’t sit idly by.’

There was actually a real risk of civil war. They wouldn’t quietly accept a compromise suggested by the empress. Not voluntarily, at least. How we got to this point is somewhat irrelevant now.

My goal now is to prevent a civil war at all costs.

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