Artesia watched as the Imperial palace rose up before her. It was tall and imposing. She had been staying in the room prepared for her at the temple, but this was terrifying. It was the debutante ball, and she was supposed to be the crowning jewel of the event. They were going to announce her, and she was meant to dance with the first prince, also known as the second ML. She was not looking forward to that. He was going to be awestruck over Daisy the whole time, and she specifically recalled she was meant to get jealous over that.

Well, she was not going to be getting jealous over that, she decided. The first prince was two years older than her, seventeen, and she was just going to be calm and chill about the whole situation. Maybe escape to a balcony. Except… Wait, no, she couldn’t do that. She could not escape to a balcony. That was just asking for an unplanned event. She knew her tropes. She couldn’t escape to the garden, either, because that would definitely trigger an event.

She didn’t know what to do. She was terrified. She was panicking, actually, as the coach rolled to a halt and the door opened. A footman approached to help her out, and she took his hand and stepped down in the delicate heels she had been supplied with. They were a far cry from the massive heels that had become commonplace in her first world. She rose up, looking to the sky, and then she strode forward.

Courage. She had to have courage. She couldn’t falter now. She just had to get through these first few events, and then she would have smooth sailing from then on. It was four years until the actual plot started. This was just the prologue. What was she panicking about? Nothing. She was panicking about nothing.

She lifted her skirts and walked up the stairs, feeling weird in her own skin. She didn’t like this dress. She wished they had let her come in her robes. Her robes were what felt like armor. Mally had said something about that, hadn’t they? Come to think of it, she hadn’t actually asked Mally what their pronouns were. Maybe they were a… he/they? Due to social pressures, trans people weren’t all that common in Korea. She had never actually met one in person, to her knowledge, unless they were flying under the radar. She wasn’t sure of the rules.

With a sigh, she reached the top of the stairs and stood up straight.

“Do you have your invitation?” the announcer asked, and she held it out. It was a little crumpled, but it was fine. “Ah. Hello, Your Holiness. We’ve been expecting you.”

The massive doors opened to the banquet hall, and the announcer drew himself to his full height.

“Her Holiness, the Saint, Artesia Verdun!” he announced, and a hush fell over the room. Every eye in the room was on her, and she walked forward, straight back and hair cascading down her shoulders. The gorgeous dress shifted, and everyone was watching her.

“There’s a Saint? After this long?”

“We greet her as Her Holiness, right? My etiquette classes didn’t cover interactions with a Saint.”

“She’s beautiful…”

“Has anyone heard of Verdun? House Verdun?”

She took a deep breath in and came to a halt at the base of the dais which boasted the Imperial family. The first prince was standing to the left of the Emperor, dressed in white and red and gold, and she executed a perfect, deep curtsy.

“Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty,” she said, and bowed her head.

“Oh, there’s no need to curtsy to me, Saint,” the emperor said. “You’re a welcome relief. Contamination has been plaguing our lands for too long.”

“I hope to execute my duties as best as I can,” she said, and rose.

“Now, Jacques, why don’t you entertain the Saint?” the emperor asked and Prince Jacques, of course, stepped forward.

“May I have your first dance, Your Holiness?” he asked as he extended a gloved hand, and Artesia refused to internally scream.

“Of course,” she said and laid her hand in his. Murmurs spread through the crowd, and he swept her onto the dance floor. The music started up again, and she followed the complicated steps of the difficult waltz-like dance with minimal difficulty. Her dance lessons over the past year had been intense, and she was glad for it, because she couldn’t stand to look a fool in front of all of these people.

Jacques swept her in the dance, saying nothing, and she followed along the complicated steps.

“Did you have an uneventful trip here?” he asked, and she swallowed.

“Ah… No, we were waylaid by bandits,” she replied, and he lifted an eyebrow.

“You were?”

“Yes. Thankfully, Duke Harwith’s son was only a bit behind us, and managed to come to our rescue in time,” she replied as her mind drifted back to Mally. “We also had a very experienced adventurer with us we met by chance.”

“An adventurer?” he asked, and she nodded.

“He was traveling to the capital, so I requested he come with us,” she replied, not sure if she should call them by their correct pronouns in this setting. “He was very skilled. He killed almost all of the bandits.”

“How many were there?” the prince asked, and she smiled weakly.

“Around thirty,” she replied, hating the fact that thirty men had been killed because of her.

“And this adventurer took care of all of them?” he asked in shock, and she slowly nodded. “What was his name?”

“Mally Mack, Your Highness. He was the same age as us, and used fungal magic,” she replied, and he swept her through the other couples.

“Mally Mack…” he murmured, and she wondered if this was going to cause any problems for Mally. “We’ll have to thank him for saving the life of the Saint.”

“Ah… He’s very shy, and reserved, I’m not sure he would like that,” she said, and the prince crinkled up his nose.

“Nonsense. Good work should be rewarded,” he said. “I’ll send a summons for him. Is he at the guild?”

“Ah… Yes,” she replied. “I believe he came to settle down in the capital.”

“Excellent,” the prince said. “I’ll send a summons to the guild and ask what he wants as payment.”

Well. At least that solved the problem of her underpaying him. She still laid awake at night thinking about that.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she said, and he dipped his head.

“Good work should be rewarded,” he said, and she smiled.

“Of course.”

“Mally Mack…” he mused, and led her in a sweeping turn. “What an interesting person. You said fungal magic?”

“Yes,” she replied, and he hummed.

“I’ve never heard of such a magic. Perhaps it’s a subset of woodcraft magic?”

“He wasn’t sure, if I recall,” she said, and he hummed again.

“He probably lacked the ability to do proper research into it. It’s impressive he managed to figure it out without texts,” he said, and the song was coming to an end. “Thank you for dancing with me. You learned very quickly.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she said as the song came to a halt, and then she curtsied. He bowed, and she took the opportunity to flee. Success: did not flirt with the second ML. She was winning at this thing. Though, it did concern her that he hadn’t noticed Daisy. She was in the corner of the room, nursing a glass of champagne and looking like she didn’t know what to do with it, and really, she was a pretty girl. She had that next door girl vibe, and she was sweet and gentle. Artesia wanted to be friends with her, but that was a one way trip to becoming a green tea bitch, and she was not going to be doing that.

Even so, the absence of Georgina was stark, and it was freaking Artesia out a bit. She didn’t like it, not at all. She was freaked out, and she could hear low murmurs about her murder in the crowd. Nobility didn’t typically die violently like that, so it was natural everyone was shocked.

As the Saint, she wasn’t supposed to drink alcohol, but there was only champagne here. Annoying. Maybe she could escape into a lounge and ask for some tea.

“Your Holiness!” someone called, and her head swiveled around. The voice was familiar, and yes, the girl looked just like the girl she had seen when she was leaving the boutique. She shouldn’t get involved in those types of people, so she continued to look around, as if she was searching for the voice, before she continued on to walk. “Oh… She didn’t see me.”

“Call her again,” another girl whispered, but someone took Artesia by the arm.

“This way,” the girl whispered, and Artesia blinked as she was just pulled into the eaves and then out onto a balcony. Oh, okay.

“Hello,” Artesia said, and stared at the girl. She had brown curls, perfectly treated and cascading down her back, and honey brown eyes that reminded her of Mally. No freckles, though.

“Hello,” the girl said. “I’m Greta Arwin.”

“Nice to meet you, Greta. Did you have something to talk to me about?” Artesia asked, and the girl bowed her head.

“I would like to confess,” she whispered, and oh, confessionals. Okay. Artesia was supposed to do that at the temple, but at least she got away from pernicious girls who wanted to just gossip. “I must confess, I’ve been unclean.”

“Unclean?” Artesia echoed, and the girl nodded.

“I have been involved in girls that gossip and defame people, and I’ve been too permissive of their wrongdoing,” she said, and Artesia blinked.

“The girls that were gossiping at the boutique?” she asked, and the girl looked at her in shock.

“You were there?”

“Ah… Yes, I left just after you stormed out,” Artesia replied, and the girl flushed before she slumped to her knees and seized Artesia’s hand.

“I apologize, Your Holiness. I’ve comported myself poorly in front of you,” she said, and Artesia felt panic crawl up into her lungs, because what was this girl doing?

“Ah, it’s really okay,” she said. “I’m just… a person. You don’t have to act any particular way around me.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have let them gossip so viciously in front of you,” the girl cried, and Artesia pulled her hand out of her grasp and helped her come to her feet.

“You’ll wrinkle your dress,” Artesia said, and then patted the girl’s hands. “Your penance is to, uhm, not participate in gossip if it’s so vicious. A little gossip is okay, and I know the nobility thrives on gossip.”

Greta gasped, and Artesia wondered if she said something wrong.

“Don’t say that so loudly, Your Holiness!” she said. “People will talk.”

“I think they’ll talk regardless,” Artesia said dryly, because the doors were open, and Greta pressed her forehead to Artesia’s hands.

“Thank you, Your Holiness,” she said. “I will do my penance.”

“Alright, now, you’re missing the festivities---” Artesia said, and there was a cough behind them. Both of them looked up, and there stood Edwin. It was only then that Artesia realized she had been drawn out to a balcony, which was exactly what she was trying to avoid, and she froze.

“Ah… I’ll go inside now,” Greta said and darted away, and Edwin watched her leave before he stepped out onto the balcony.

“You’re too soft with people,” he said, and Artesia flushed.

“No, I’m not,” she replied, and he sighed.

“Yes, you are. A penance so light for gossiping about a dead girl?” he asked, and Artesia was quiet.

“Well… People make mistakes,” she murmured, and Edwin propped his hip against the banister and crossed his arms as he studied her. He should be with Daisy right about now. Why was he not with Daisy?

“You didn’t hear this from me, but she was studying dark arts,” he said, and she went still. “Several forbidden texts were found. She probably deserved to be gossiped about.”

Wait.

Hold on.

Georgina didn’t have any magic?? Why was she---

What?

“Oh,” she said as her brain whirled with the consequences of this. Since when did Georgina have magic?

“She was an odd one. Studied swords and horsemanship,” he said casually, and that really didn’t fit what she knew of Georgina. From an early age, Georgina had pushed herself hard to be as ladylike as possible to please her father. She wouldn’t have studied swordsmanship. Everything revolved around gaining his love, and when she finally realized she couldn’t get it, she turned to Edwin for it.

“I don’t… think that’s odd,” Artesia forced out, because what was going on right now? What was actually going on?

“Even so, you should be careful with who you associate with,” Edwin said and pushed off the banister. “There’s a lot of snakes here. Choose your friends with caution.”

That was a warning. Don’t turn into a villainess. She knew that. He could already smell it on her, and she felt her heart fall, because she had tried so hard to be nice to him. Maybe some things couldn’t be changed. Maybe…

Maybe she was doomed to fail.

Shouldn’t she enjoy her time while she had it, though?

She wanted to see Mally again. Maybe she could request that she be there when the prince gave them their gift. There was something about Mally that was comforting. She could use some comfort right now. She could definitely use some comfort right now.

Yes. She was going to request that she be there.