Green’s singing was nothing special. In fact, with his somewhat hoarse voice, at first listen he was even a bit dry and dull.
All these years, he had roamed from town to town performing, yet hadn’t gained much fame. There were many reasons for this, but one of the biggest was his lack of unique charm.
Bards were as common as clouds, nearly half the working folk in town took up the trade. Among them, there was certainly no shortage of good looks and enchanting, melodious voices.
If it weren’t for the fact that Green’s stories were at least somewhat interesting, he probably wouldn’t even have found the most basic gigs.
But this time, when Green opened his mouth to sing, everyone’s attention was firmly drawn in.
It wasn’t that Green had worked some miracle, swapping his throat for a better one in the blink of an eye, but rather that the recent commotion in the tavern had left everyone nervous and anxious for Green to perform well—at least well enough to satisfy the exiled Imperial Princess.
To ridicule a member of the royal family was a grave offense.
Strictly speaking, it wouldn’t be too much to lose your head for it.
“Ai, what rotten luck, of all days, why did today’s performer have to be that Green?”
A patron whispered with a sigh, “If only it were the Dusk Choir today. Like that Miss Sally, perhaps?”
“Exactly! Who in town doesn’t know Green’s background? Back then, he spent so much effort just to become a professional, and in the end, when he had no other options, he became a bard?”
“I heard no adventuring party wanted to take him in, so he started performing on the streets. Even as a bard, he’s just so-so.”
The tavern was filled with Green’s old acquaintances, and as he began to sing, they all wore bitter expressions.
“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have come to the tavern today. Now I’m getting dragged into trouble for nothing…”
“Don’t give up too soon. I remember, Green may not be good at much else, but his stories are still pretty interesting. Maybe he can move the Imperial Princess?”
Their voices were barely audible, but every word drifted to the ears of Her Highness, sitting quietly in the corner.
She raised her hand gently, signaling to the sweating tavern owner beside her, “Bring me a few mugs of wheat ale, freshly brewed.”
The Seventh Imperial Princess, Theresa, continued listening to Green’s performance with complete indifference, unmoved by the whispers and gossip swirling around her.
“Imperial Emperor.” Her gaze was deep, and that face—so beautiful it could captivate all the men in the world—was now covered in heartbreaking sorrow. “Was this really your best decision? For that empty, unreachable immortality? For the prophecy of that ridiculous cult?”
As one who inherited the noble blood of the true dragon, Theresa never imagined that one day she’d be exiled—especially by the very Emperor who had loved her the most.
“They say that fear of death can twist a person’s very nature, but…” Theresa quietly stared at the figure on the stage, her gaze shifting, “Could it truly devour all the warmth and bonds of blood as well?”
The Seventh Imperial Princess shivered.
She vaguely remembered the happiness of her childhood, cared for by her Imperial Emperor and mother.
Back then, the Imperial Emperor was still young and strong. Though he wasn’t the wisest of Kings, he kept the grand empire running smoothly.
Nobles, professionals, the church, and commoners—all those layers of conflicting interests; the tangled alliances and rivalries of the many nations and races. What seemed unsolvable, he managed with order and balance.
But now…
Theresa still remembered the night she was exiled—it was a fair, sunny afternoon.
No lightning or thunder, no raging storms; just a peaceful day beneath blue skies and white clouds, admiring the beauty of the Royal Garden, her father under his crown, his face lined with age.
The once-legendary professional, now stooped by the years, had nothing left of his youthful vigor but a weariness etched deep in his features.
“Imperial Emperor!” Dressed in her military uniform, she strode furiously before him. “How could you cut the border defenses’ funds?”
“The border is unstable. Several lords seem to be colluding with the orc tribes, and now a Supreme King of the Outland Barbarians has united the clans. Cutting the Border Army’s funding now—I can’t accept it!”
Her righteous words clashed with the gorgeous, blooming scene around her.
“Oh, it’s Theresa.” The Imperial Emperor’s lifeless eyes glanced at her; his violet pupils—symbol of the noble royal blood—now dim and dull. “My daughter, the one who inherits my noble true dragon blood…”
“Do you remember the magician your brother brought before?”
Leaning on his cane, his wrinkled face took on a strange delight. “Her method really works. Look, my dear daughter… my hand, doesn’t it look young again?”
Theresa looked silently at his hand.
Once strong and full, it was now withered and thin, veins standing out with a faint, ominous purple.
The Imperial Emperor was truly… truly old.
No wonder he started to believe in that brother’s ridiculous, ill-intentioned ‘secret magic.’
No. I can’t just watch my Imperial Emperor—watch the empire’s highest authority—sink into decline!
Theresa raised her head and shook it vigorously.
“I see nothing, Imperial Emperor.” She said loudly, “In this world, there is magic, there are miracles, there are even the blessings of deities. But precisely because of this, death is the inevitable end for all of us. No one can escape it.”
Her eyes burned, “Rather than clinging to life with a feeble extension, Imperial Emperor, why not use your remaining years to leave behind a glorious legacy?”
She looked at her Imperial Emperor with longing—the one who, years ago, had stood against all opposition to bring her low-born mother into the palace as a consort.
Theresa yearned for the father who once had the courage to face down the great nobles, who insisted on his own path, to be himself again—to cast aside the foolish obsession and regain his clarity.
“…”
But what greeted her was not approval, but… deep disappointment.
“My daughter, my dearest daughter… so you’re just like the rest of them?”
Like who?
“You want me dead, too, so you can claim the throne?”
What?!
Theresa’s eyes widened; she could barely believe what she heard.
“Miss Magician,” the Imperial Emperor lowered his head in pain, “You were right. Everyone—even my dearest daughter—wants me dead.”
Hee hee hee.
A bell-like laugh rang through the garden.
Who?!
Theresa stiffened in shock.
She was only sixteen, but with her talent and royal resources, she was already a level seventy professional.
Yet someone could remain at the Imperial Emperor’s side, unnoticed?
A legend?
A woman with long green hair walked to the Imperial Emperor’s side, her seductive face filled with whispered temptation, “Yes, my master, my beloved Emperor, not a single one of your children wishes you a long life—they all want their share of the inheritance. Especially…”
“Especially your favorite daughter. My crows tell me, Your Highness Seventh Imperial Princess, you’ve been in close contact with the Border Army lately.”
Miss Magician’s voice was like a desert spring—so sweet it was addictive, bewitching the empire’s highest ruler in moments.
“Border Army, is it? Good, good.”
The old Emperor seemed to understand, shaking his head in heartbreak. “To think, to think even my dearest daughter would betray me.”
“Sigh. I suppose these days, since you’re the only heir with the true dragon eyes, you’ve grown ambitions you shouldn’t have.”
Bang.
The old Emperor raised his scepter, pointing it straight at Theresa.
“Hear this decree!” he called to the servants nearby, “The Seventh Imperial Princess is ignorant and rash, offending the dignity of the state—a crime beyond forgiveness. From today, her claim to the throne is revoked…”
A chill pierced Theresa’s heart. She never imagined that her heartfelt advice would bring such a cold and merciless punishment.
“And aren’t you always so concerned with the border?”
The old Emperor’s clouded gaze turned frosty. “Then I appoint you Commander of the Border Fortress. If there is any lapse this winter solstice… hmph. In the military, there is no room for favoritism.”
He waved his hand, dismissing her like an annoying fly, unwilling to waste even a word.
Theresa was left behind, numb, under strange and scrutinizing stares.
She was finished.
What future is there for a princess stripped of succession and exiled to the border?
At best, a ‘dignified’ death—like dying heroically in battle.
Especially for one like her, whose mother came from humble origins and rose only through the Emperor’s favor.
Her former retainers and courtiers, sensing doom, all found excuses to leave.
So Theresa gave up hope and went alone to the Border Fortress.
She had lost everything.
“At the very least, before I die, I’ll listen to one more story-song.”
Theresa vaguely remembered her mother’s face.
Her mother had been a bard, with a voice more beautiful and moving than any nightingale.
The Imperial Emperor once said, her mother’s voice was his most precious memory in this life.
“So…”
Theresa ignored the shock and fear in the crowd. Sitting quietly in the tavern’s corner, she listened to the bard on stage—decent-looking, but a singer whose voice was poor by any standard—begin to play.
“Mother.” She took off the Mithril Necklace at her throat, a sad smile on her face.
Within the Mithril Necklace, her mother’s smiling face was her last comfort.
Leaving the Imperial Capital, that highest seat of power in the empire…
She was nothing but a thorough failure,
“Sorry, I couldn’t fulfill your wish after all.”
Ding-dong～～
A melodious pluck of the strings broke through Theresa’s self-pity. The Seventh Imperial Princess was surprised to find that, compared to his plain singing, that bard’s skill with the lute was unexpectedly superb.
The music was graceful and flowing. Every note struck deep in the hearts of those listening, stirring their emotions with every phrase.
What did the bard say this song was called?
“Caged Bird”?
In that moment, Theresa felt as if her fate matched the story of the song.
“Yes… from beginning to end, I was just a fool who thought she could soar, when in truth I’ve always been trapped in a golden cage.”
She sighed, her eyes lost in confusion.
Buzz—
Just as Theresa’s thoughts spiraled deeper with the sorrowful tune, a sudden, urgent change in the melody slammed her heart down to earth.
“They say a bird born in a cage, no matter how much feed it’s given, can never grow strong…”
On stage, Green sang with feeling, “But who knows—nothing can restrain life’s instinctive yearning for freedom?”
Freedom?
That line crashed into Theresa’s despairing heart like a bolt of lightning.
“I’ve lost everything, but…” The keen intuition dulled by her suffering quietly returned to her mind. The ashen look on her face lit up with color once more.
The Border Fortress was a dead end.
But… only at the brink of death can one be reborn.
Only at the bottom can the golden shackles of the Imperial Princess be shattered.
Suddenly, Theresa understood what she must do.
Surrender?
No. Even if I am to die, I will die on the path to the throne!