In the castle’s dining hall, gentle light fell across the dishes and the crystal-clear glasses, reflecting a dazzling glow.
The air was filled with the mouthwatering scent of baked bread and fresh jam, making one’s mouth water.
Servants dressed in neat uniforms hurried between the tables, carrying trays and serving food in an orderly fashion, with Su Ling following closely behind.
As she passed one of the tables, Su Ling’s gaze was drawn to the enormous dining table.
Sitting alone at the head was Sista — her dark hair falling like a curtain, her face refined and beautiful, yet her eyes held a distant coldness.
A sumptuous breakfast was set before her, but she didn’t seem particularly interested in it.
Why is she dining alone? Where are the other royal family members?
Right… though Su Ling hadn’t read much of the novel, she recalled this detail had been mentioned early on.
The king was lazy in governing and rarely appeared in public, so much so that even his ministers rarely saw him.
Almost all of the kingdom’s affairs had been left to Sista to manage.
Clack!
Suddenly, Sista set her fork down and slammed her teacup on the table, her sharp gaze sweeping across everyone present as her eyes darkened with fury.
“Who did this? Speak.” Sista pointed coldly at the cake on her plate.
The servants were terrified into silence, their heads lowered as they dared not make a sound.
“Why is no one speaking? Who was responsible?”
Still, no one dared to answer.
Even Su Ling was frozen and hardly dared to breathe.
Just then, the dining hall door was pushed open, and a man dressed like a butler hurried inside.
His hair was partly gray, his cheekbones high — he looked to be in his fifties.
Su Ling recognized him immediately — he was Seban, the royal head butler.
Seeing the scene before him, Seban’s heart sank.
He knew things weren’t looking good.
“Your Highness, please calm yourself,” he began.
“You came just in time, Seban,” Sista narrowed her eyes at him.
“Explain this. The specially made Western-style jam cake is missing a piece.”
Seban hesitated briefly, then took a deep breath and raised his finger toward the red-haired girl standing quietly to the side — Tii.
“It’s… it’s Tii,” the butler said, voice trembling, “Tii was in charge of delivering the breakfast. Perhaps she stole the cake!”
At once, Tii’s face went pale, and she fell to her knees.
“I-I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t…”
“Didn’t mean to?” Sista, however, showed no interest in hearing excuses. She sneered, her voice icy.
“Tii, whether you stole it or not — you know the truth yourself.”
Tii’s body trembled harder, tears pooling in her eyes as her voice choked.
“Your Highness, please believe me — I really didn’t do it on purpose…”