Why was I born?
That was the question that surfaced when I learned that the blood flowing through me was my mother's blood.
A maid's.
In the world of nobles, blood was everything. Blood determined who was worthy and who was not. Who was allowed to sit at the dinner table with the family and who had to eat in the kitchen with the servants. And I, from the very first day I understood what that word meant, had always been on the wrong side.
Of course, at first I hated everything.
I hated my mother because she was a maid. Because the blood she passed to me was the reason my older sisters looked at me with disgust. Because every time I walked through the mansion corridors, the whispers of the servants always followed my steps. "Illegitimate child." "The maid's daughter." "Should never have been born."
I hated my father who never acknowledged my efforts. Every time I showed him perfect marks in my studies, he would only nod without looking at me. Every time my older sister failed at the same thing, she received extra tutors and words of encouragement. I received silence.
I hated my older sisters who often bullied me. The gowns they passed down to me were always slightly too large or slightly too small, never quite right. As though even secondhand clothes were reluctant to become mine. And every time they passed me in the corridor, their expression was always the same. Not hatred. Something worse. Indifference.
And the one I hated most was myself. For being unable to fight back. For only being able to lower my head and accept it. For lying in my small bed every night, wondering whether this world would be better off without me in it.
Until I met him.
Leon.
That day, our mansion received an official visit from the royal family. The entire Silvercrown household lined up in the main hall wearing their finest clothes, their finest smiles, and their finest lies. I stood at the very back, in a corner where I was nearly invisible to everyone.
A young prince walked in with his entourage. His hair was bright blond, his eyes blue, and his smile carried a confidence that belonged only to someone who had never known rejection.
He greeted my father. Greeted my sisters. Conversed with charm and courtesy, exactly like a prince from a storybook.
Then, for no apparent reason, his eyes moved to the corner of the hall.
To where I was standing.
I immediately lowered my head. The reflex of a child long accustomed to not wanting to be seen.
But those footsteps drew closer.
"Hey."
His voice was light and warm. I raised my face slightly and saw the young prince standing before me, his head tilted to one side, looking at me with an innocent curiosity.
"Why are you standing here all alone?" he asked.
I did not answer. I did not know what to say. No one had ever asked me something like that.
"My name is Leonhart," he said, extending his hand. "Who are you?"
I stared at his hand. Then at his face. Then back at his hand.
"I..." my voice came out smaller than I had hoped. "I am not someone worthy of speaking with Your Highness."
Leonhart frowned. "Why not?"
"Because I..." I swallowed, "my father is indeed the head of the Silvercrown family. But my mother... my mother is just a maid in this mansion."
The words tasted bitter on my tongue. But I had said them so many times that the feeling had gone numb.
Leonhart looked at me for several seconds. I had already braced myself for the same expression I always saw on others. Disgust. Pity. Or the most painful of all, indifference.
But what I saw on his face was confusion.
"So what?" he said, as though the question were the strangest thing he had ever heard. "You are still you. Are your parents the same person as you?"
I froze.
Not because his words were complicated. Quite the opposite. They were so simple that I did not know how to respond.
No one had ever said that to me.
Leonhart smiled, then without waiting for my answer, he took my hand.
"Come on," he said. "Do not stand in the corner like this. You should be standing at the front."
Eventually, we became engaged.
And from that day on, something inside me changed.
I began to accept my circumstances.
I no longer hated my mother. Even though I was the source of trouble in her life, even though my existence caused her to constantly receive punishment from my father's wives, she still loved me. Every night she would sneak into my room, mending the hand-me-down gowns my sisters had given me, making sure they at least fit my body. She never complained. Never blamed me. That woman bore everything in silence, and I had been too busy hating the world to notice.
I no longer hated my father. If he truly did not want me, he should have abandoned me in the forest long ago. But he did not. Perhaps not because he loved me. Perhaps only out of a lingering sense of responsibility he could not ignore. But at the very least, he let me live. And that was already more than many fathers gave to children they did not want.
I no longer hated my older sisters. Perhaps they were ashamed to have a younger sister like me. Perhaps my existence reminded them that their father had once loved someone who was not their mother. Their hatred, if I was being honest, was not without reason.
And most importantly, I no longer hated myself.
Because I was proud. Proud of having come this far.
Everything I did was for one purpose. I studied every day. Trained my magic every day. Memorized royal law, studied territorial governance, mastered advanced magical theory. All of it I did so that I could become a woman worthy of pride. A woman worthy of standing beside Leonhart.
But with each passing day, he grew more distant.
At first it was only small things. Conversations that grew shorter. Glances that became rarer. A smile that once felt warm now felt like a formality.
Drifting away from me.
I was afraid.
He disappeared.
Not literally. He was still there. Still at the same academy. Still walking the same corridors. But every time I saw him, he was always with someone else.
A girl with pink hair, an innocent smile, and large eyes that always seemed to need protection.
Alicia.
I chose to address it directly.
Not in front of others. Not with a raised voice. I found Alicia in the academy corridor during the late afternoon, when the hallway was empty and no other ears could hear.
"Alicia," I called.
The girl turned around. Her smile bloomed the moment she saw me, as it always did. The same smile she gave to everyone. Innocent. Open. Without guard.
"Veralyn! What is it?" she replied cheerfully.
I drew a breath.
"I want to talk about the prince," I said.
Her smile shifted slightly. It did not vanish, but something changed behind her eyes.
"I know you and the prince have been spending a lot of time together," I continued. I chose my words carefully, making sure none of them sounded like an accusation. "And I understand that the prince is a kind person. It is natural for many people to feel comfortable around him."
Alicia nodded slowly, her eyes slightly more guarded now.
"But I must be honest," I said. "The prince is already engaged. To me. And in the world of nobles, a woman who is too close to a man who is already engaged will be seen as a threat. Not by me. But by everyone around us."
I paused for a moment, making sure she was listening.
"I am not saying you have done anything wrong," I added. "And I am not forbidding you from speaking with him. I am only asking you to keep some distance. For your own sake. Because if rumors begin to spread, the one who will bear the consequences will not be the prince. Not me. It will be you."
Silence fell between us.
Alicia stared at me. The cheerful smile that had been on her face moments ago had completely vanished. Her large eyes appeared slightly glassy, and her lips trembled faintly.
"I..." her voice was soft, "I am only friends with him."
"I know," I answered. "And I believe that. But this world does not see it that way. If you continue to stay too close to him, people will start talking. And when that happens, no one will be able to protect you."
Alicia lowered her head. A single tear fell, landing on the corridor floor.
And that was when I realized something.
In this girl's eyes, I was not a fiancee giving a warning to protect her.
I was a bully threatening her.
She did not hear the content of my words. She only felt the pain of them.
"I am sorry," Alicia whispered, then turned and ran away.
I stood alone in the empty corridor, watching her retreating figure grow smaller.
And for the first time, I wondered whether I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.
My eyes opened.
The wooden ceiling of the carriage swayed gently above my head. The sound of wheels creaking over a dirt road and the evening breeze filled the small space. A reddish twilight seeped through the window, coloring everything in warm tones.
A dream.
No. Not a dream. Those were memories. Memories I had buried deep in a place that should have been unreachable. Yet for some reason, today they had all risen back to the surface.
I blinked and shifted my head slightly. My neck felt stiff from leaning against the carriage wall for too long.
Then I saw him.
Ray.
He sat across from me. His eyes were closed, his head tilted slightly to the side, his breathing steady and slow. Asleep. The shopping bags he had been carrying in both hands were now arranged neatly on the carriage floor between us.
Even in sleep, his face still looked calm. Not the forced calm he usually wore. But a genuine calm. Without a mask. Without a role. Just an ordinary man, exhausted after spending an entire day accompanying a woman through shopping and dining.
I watched him in silence.
Ray. I still wondered why he had saved me.
Was it out of pity?
Impossible. I had never spoken with him before that night. Yes, I had seen him a few times at the academy. A commoner without any extraordinary magical ability. Yet a commoner who had been accepted into the Royal Magic Academy was still something remarkable in its own right. I had noticed his existence, but nothing more. We had never exchanged words. Never exchanged glances. He was simply one of the hundreds of faces that passed through the academy corridors.
Then why had he spent a hundred gold coins to save someone he did not even know?
Was it because he liked me?
At first, I had thought so. Many men had looked at me in ways that betrayed their interest. I was familiar enough with such gazes to recognize them.
But the more I came to know Ray, the more I felt that answer was not enough.
Ray was wealthy. Not merely wealthy. The king and queen knew him personally. The attendants at Crescentia Grand Emporium bowed at the sight of the button on his collar. Madame Lorna, a chef whose name I had overheard being praised by nobles at the academy as the finest on the entire continent, treated him like an old friend. Even I, someone who had scarcely ever set foot outside the library or the training hall, had heard her name. And Serena Valenrose, a woman I had always admired, turned out to be his closest companion.
Someone with connections and wealth like that had no reason to glance at a woman like me. A discarded former fiancee. A mixed-blood noblewoman whose own family would not even defend her. I was not a sensible choice for anyone, let alone for someone who could have any woman he desired.
Then why?
The question circled in my head without an answer. The more I thought about it, the less I understood. This man made no sense. Everything he did made no sense. Challenging a prince. Spending an amount of money that could buy an entire mansion. Buying me clothes without complaint. Refusing reimbursement from the king himself.
And the most nonsensical thing of all, he did all of it without asking for anything in return.
I stared at his sleeping face.
Who are you really, Raymond?
"Miss, Sir, we have arrived."
The driver's voice from outside the carriage broke the silence.
I immediately shut my eyes again. Quickly. Reflexively. Like a child caught peeking at something that was none of their business.
Breathe. Steady. Slow. Pretend to be asleep.
I heard Ray shift across from me. The small sound of him blinking awake, followed by a quiet sigh as he realized they had arrived.
Then a brief silence.
I could feel his gaze on me.
"Veralyn," his voice came softly, almost gently. "We have arrived."
I opened my eyes slowly, pretending to have just woken up. Blinked a few times. Looked at him with an expression I hoped was convincing enough for someone who had just been roused from sleep.
"...We are here?" I murmured.
"Yes," he replied, already on his feet and gathering the shopping bags. "Let us get off."
I nodded and followed him out of the carriage.
The night air greeted us. The small house in the middle of the forest stood before us, lit by moonlight that filtered through the gaps in the canopy.
Ray walked ahead of me toward the door, both hands full of bags.
And I walked behind him, still thinking about a question that had no answer.