Chapter 42: The Imaginary Veil

Within the castle of the royal capital.

A woman with beautiful, sky-blue long hair sat before the dressing table.

She was draped in a pure white, sacred Wedding Dress, with a Veil covering her head.

Through the gauzy Veil, one could vaguely glimpse the deep and lovely blue gem-like eyes beneath.

The white Wedding Dress wrapped around her skin, delicate as fine jade.

If she were to take it off, she would be as beautiful as a lotus emerging from the water.

Looking at herself in the mirror, her lashes beneath the Veil quivered ever so slightly.

Her eyes shone for but a fleeting moment, as if recalling something, only to dim again almost instantly.

Her crimson lips pressed together in a faint, silent sigh.

“How do you find this one, Imperial Princess?”

Yuriss did not reply.

She stared unblinkingly at her reflection in the mirror, already lost in thought.

But it was not her own appearance that distracted her—within those deep, lifeless eyes, there was remembrance, and sorrow.

“Imperial Princess?”

From behind, Gersi called out softly once more, finally drawing Yuriss back from her reverie.

“Your Highness rarely spaces out like this. Is it because of tomorrow’s wedding?”

“I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Then once you’ve chosen a Wedding Dress, let me escort Your Highness back to your chambers for a short rest.”

“…There’s still much to be done. No time for rest.”

Gersi pressed her lips together and said nothing more, but her eyes were filled with distress.

Their Imperial Princess had not rested for a long time.

Since the declaration of war against the Demon Tribe, she had spent almost every day for the past hundred years dealing with military matters, state affairs, and intrigue with those corrupt Nobles.

Even the only time she could rest, she would carve out a portion to practice magic and Swordsmanship.

One could say that Gersi had hardly ever seen her rest at all this past year.

For a normal person, such an intense workload would have pushed their body far past its limits.

Yet the Imperial Princess was sustained by the Blessing, granting her a body beyond ordinary mortals, able to work almost endlessly, day and night.

But even so, no matter how many Blessings one had, the human body still had its limits.

Gersi had noticed Yuriss was clearly not herself these past few days—often spacing out like this, and when she came back to herself, only fatigue and inexplicable sadness remained in her eyes.

“Your Highness, are you satisfied with this Wedding Dress?”

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, there was not a trace of joy in Yuriss’s eyes.

“This one will do.”

She said indifferently, and with a flick of her hand, tore off the Veil from her head, tossing it toward Gersi.

“…Yes, Your Highness. I’ll have a new one made for tomorrow.”

Saying this, Gersi hurried out the door.

Yuriss stood up, gazing at the flawless white Wedding Dress on her body.

She once again spaced out for a moment.

When she came to, she shook her head hastily, then forced a self-mocking smile.

“So many years have passed, and yet… I haven’t changed a bit.”

She had finally managed to forget her, finally managed to move on from those memories.

But ever since seeing that hair tie a few days ago, those memories surged back like a flood.

She was drowning in a sea called remembrance—whenever she was awake, all the happiness and pain she had shared with her would replay with piercing clarity before her eyes.

That shadow of inky black, that delicate and lovely face—she could still remember every detail about her.

Those memories had never left; they’d merely been locked away deep in her heart by her subconscious, treasured like gems.

Why, at this time, did she have to see that hair tie again?

Why, at this time, did she have to recall those dreamlike days?

Was it that the Goddess was punishing her—punishing that foolish, mistaken decision she made, the decision that cost her beloved’s life, and the life of the one who had loved her so purely?

She had killed her.

That princess who longed for freedom had died with her as well.

Now, she was the Imperial Princess, a ruler who needed no feelings.

This lightless castle, the endless stacks of documents to process, and this cage called Prophecy—these were her eternal home.

Only death would bring true release.

If, when that time came, the Goddess in her mercy allowed her into Heaven, all she wished was to see her beloved once more—not to ask forgiveness, just to gaze at her from afar would suffice.

If she went to Hell, she would bear it without complaint.

So she mustn’t think of her again, mustn’t remember, but do what she ought to do, endure the pain, and atone for what she’d done—for a chance to see her once more in Heaven…

Yet…

When she looked in the mirror, those memories, precious as jewels, appeared before her eyes once more. In her ears, it was as if someone was calling out to her, accompanied by the thunderous boom of ceremonial cannons.

Who was that?

So clear, so radiant…

***

At the wedding banquet.

Yuriss wore an opulent white evening gown, raising her glass in toast with the surrounding Nobles.

Today was a wedding in the family of a Royal Family member.

By tradition, the King should bless the newlyweds at the ceremony, but now that the King was in frail health, Yuriss attended in his stead.

Yuriss disliked drinking and was ill at ease with the sycophantic faces all around.

But if she refused to drink, they would be offended, so she had to grit her teeth and drink cup after cup.

Her mind felt hazy—Yuriss realized she was already a bit drunk.

“Princess, are you drunk? Allow me to escort you to rest.”

A blond young nobleman approached, reaching out as if to touch Yuriss’s slender waist.

She tried to dodge, but her vision was swimming and her body wouldn’t obey her.

Just as the blond man was about to touch her, a slender, boneless hand snaked around Yuriss’s waist, pulling her away from the man.

“No need for your concern. I’ll take care of her.”

A black-haired girl in a black-and-white maid outfit drew Yuriss into her arms, shielding her like a guardian from the man.

The man seemed unwilling to give up. He stepped forward, feigning gentleness as he smiled at Mo Zhi: “Why not let me do it? You can go and take care of something else.”

“No.”

Those simple words finally pushed the man into anger.

He frowned, his tone unfriendly: “Where did a servant like you come from? How dare you touch the Princess with that filthy body?”

Those nearby turned to look at the commotion, but the girl remained utterly fearless.

She put her hands on her hips and shouted at the man: “I am the Princess’s personal maid! And who are you to touch the Princess without permission?”

“I…”

The man’s face flushed red with rage.

After all, he was the Duke’s Son—yet he’d been humiliated by a maid.

He immediately rolled up his sleeves, striding toward Mo Zhi with an imposing air, ready to use his fists to reclaim some dignity.

“Today, I’ll teach you some manners on behalf of the Princess!”

But just as he swung his fist, it froze abruptly in midair.

“Who said… you could touch my maid?”

A slightly tipsy voice came from within the girl’s embrace.

Yuriss’s brows and eyes were frosted with cold, and the man felt a chill down his spine under her gaze.

“I only… I only meant to help you rest, that’s all, hehe.”

The man’s face immediately shifted to a fawning smile.

He bowed, rubbing his palms together awkwardly.

“So greasy… If you dirtied my dress, what then?”

“I…”

Another round of humiliation entered the man’s ears, but this time he dared not show any anger.

“Take me to rest for a while, Mo Zhi.”

When she looked at the one holding her, Yuriss’s eyes softened beyond measure, a tenderness mixed with a love Mo Zhi herself did not notice.