Chapter 1

Jeremiah sighed as she stepped onto the ornate stairs in the Third Prince's palace. She had been summoned by her fiancé for tea.

"Tea? Really? He is becoming more and more ridiculous," she muttered.

Prince Luther was not the kind of person who enjoyed refined activities like having tea or dancing. No, he loved vulgar things more.

"What am I going to deal with now?" She bit her nails in nervousness as she made her way up to the reception room of the Prince's chambers. "How do I escape this time?"

Finally, she arrived at the door to the room. She took a deep breath and braced herself.

Usually, the butler or a maid would announce her presence to the Prince before she entered the room, but there was no escort this time. That gave her a very bad feeling.

"Whatever. It's not like he cares for things like etiquette," she mumbled again and raised her hand to knock on the door when she heard something.

'Was that… a moan?' she thought. It sounded like the Prince.

Panicking, because she assumed that maybe he was in danger, she hastily opened the door and burst through it, only to see… something that was not the usual couches and tea table in the very large room. She squirted as she tried to make out the shapes of the objects in question.

Another moan sounded and something shifted.

'Ah, really, why is my eyesight so horrible…' she cursed and, frustrated, she pulled out her glasses from a little pocket she had had specially sewn into her clothes.

And immediately regretted it.

Her thought process became muddled. It seemed as if her brain was taking far too much time to process everything happening before her.

First she thought, 'Why is there a bed in the reception room?'

Then she thought, 'Am I in the wrong room?'

She turned and looked out to the left and right.

'No, this is the right room."

She stared at the scene before her. It was the Prince. In a bed. With another woman. Both of them naked.

As she slowly processed the sight, it seemed as if her soul would escape her. She became pale and took a step back. She wanted to run. She felt as if she had intruded on something she should not have seen.

But then, the Prince turned and looked at her.

"Ah, you're here?"

The woman, who was being kissed rather passionately until that moment, looked at her and scowled. Clearly, she was annoyed at the interruption. Prince Luther, meanwhile, smirked at his fiancée who was frozen at the doorway.

"Come in," he said.

"Come… in?" Jeremiah asked, still processing the scene.

But then something in her snapped.

"What did you say?"

"Hey, should you talk to me in that tone?" the Prince frowned and sat up.

And that gave her a full view of everything she didn't want to see.

She wanted to scream, but she didn't. Because her feelings of anger was overriding that of fear or embarrassment.

"You have finally done it," she spoke, her tone venomous.

Now that surprised the Prince. He had known this woman for 7 years and had been engaged to her for 2. But not once, no matter what he did or said to her, did she sound like she wanted to drive a knife through his throat.

'Hoh, so she does like me,' he thought.

He had purposely arranged for the bed and called the woman, a low noble he barely remembered the name of who was one of several women he had relations with. This one in particular had really dark brown hair and brown eyes, and a decent figure. Yes, he had purposely chosen someone who could pass vaguely for Jeremiah. His aim? To bring Jeremiah to his bed.

He thought that if she found out her fiancé was actively straying away, she might put more effort into attracting him. And then he would finally have her in his grasp.

What he didn't expect was for the woman in question to glare at him like she would skin him.

'Well, its not a bad outcome. It means she actually likes me,' he thought, and smirked at her with confidence.

But that was the very opposite of what Jeremiah was thinking.

"You low life son of a bitch," she hissed.

Now that made the fearless Prince flinch. Meanwhile Jeremiah was actually cursing even more in her mind, while inwardly crying, 'my poor eyes.'

'This damn ingrate….'

She was exhausted and angry. She had some knowledge of his dissolute lifestyle but it had not directly involved her, so she chose to live as if it had nothing to do with her as much as possible.

But now?

'Wait, this might be an opportunity.'

The Prince flinched again when he saw her smile. She raised up her left hand and looked at the ring on her finger.

'I never noticed it before, but the jewel matches Luther's eyes,' she thought. It was a tiny, pale green jewel.

When the ring was given to her at the engagement ceremony, people had snickered at the size of the jewel set in silver. Silver. Not even gold.

'He was making his intention clear from day 1. Well, good.'

She glared at him again.

"I have no use for this anymore."

Saying that, she pulled it off and… threw it at Prince Luther's face.

"Ack!" he shouted in surprise more than pain.

"Give that to the woman. She seems to like small things."

Of course, Jeremiah meant it to be an insult to his personality, but to the Prince that sounded like a very different kind of insult.

"You! Have you finally gone mad?!" he shouted as he tried to get up from the bed.

But Jeremiah gave him not a second glance as she turned and ran out the door.

As she ran down the stairs, she finally felt as if she had thrown off a manacle around her hand. But she knew that this was only half the battle. She was not completely free.

"I need to speak to the King."

*

One day ago.

"Why is that woman here?"

"Isn't she shameless? She showed her face after the way she treated Count Wilhem's daughter."

"Well, she is the Third Prince's fiancé."

"Hah, why does Prince Luther have to bear an engagement with such a rude and arrogant woman? She walks around as if she owns the kingdom already. She should know her place as the daughter of Count Hestia."

'I can hear you, you know?!'

Jeremiah Hestia sat at her table nursing a cup of tea, completely exasperated with the whispers, if one could even call them whispers, about her.

'As I thought, I should have stayed home.'

Unfortunately, she wasn't in a position to ignore her fiancé's aunt's tea party invitation.

"Honestly, it is amazing that she is even engaged to a Royal. Even if her father is a hero, I wouldn't mingle with her. Though, I suppose, she isn't bad looking for a night in the hay," one of her fiancé's friends, the son of Marquis Contellan, Hael Contellan, smirked, drawing snickers from the other louts around him. Hearing that made her face burn in anger.

*Clack*

A loud sound came when Jewel Harrison, daughter of a Marquis herself, set her cup down rather harshly, drawing the attention of the snickering boys.

"No matter how much you hate her," she said, looking at them sharply, "she is the fiancée of the Prince. How dare you say such vulgar things about her out loud?"

But, that defence didn't fool anyone. The implication of her words was that it was okay to say such vulgar things in private. Jeremiah understood that. In fact, she was less than pleased that Jewel Harrison even opened her mouth.

Ever since her debut, she was compared to Jewel, who had a perfectly good reputation as an example of an ideal noble girl. Jewel, with her bright green eyes, curly blonde hair and slim figure, looked like an angel. A perfect contrast to the black haired, brown eyed Jeremiah, whose eyes looked sharp rather than soft and dewey. If the light hit her pupils in a particular way, it looked strangely orange. When some girls saw that at an outdoor party once, they actually called her a demon. What didn't help was her poor eyesight, which made her put on a slightly scowling expression as she tried to navigate her surroundings and recognize people, earning her a reputation as a sour faced villain. And from her early teens, her body had grown into the full figure of a mature adult woman, which often drew unwanted attention.

A result of that unwanted attention was her engagement. The Third Prince was an ingrate, promiscuous lout by the name of Luther Othiel Christina who tried to coax her several times into bed, saying they might as well do it since they would eventually be married.

She was not fooled, however. She was aware of several scandals that had been hushed, and she was in no rush to become another notch on his bed. But she had no choice but to agree with the engagement because she was scared that rejecting it would harm her father.

But this was too much.

Her hand clenched as she heard Jewel's friends tittering about how she is such a good person for defending a rotten person, and how she is the perfect match for the 1st Prince, the most likely successor to the throne.

It was bad enough that she was shunned by people her age, but being engaged to Prince Luther further isolated her while thrusting her directly into the politics of the nobles, who cared not for delicate feelings of the young girl, but only their self interests. What was particularly awkward was that her father, Rubel Hestia, was a staunch Royalist, but the Third Prince's supporters were from the Aristocratic division. They certainly weren't happy that the Prince demanded to be engaged to a Royalist's daughter.

Jeremiah was now 20 years old. Ideally, the Prince and she should have been married two years ago already, but he kept delaying the marriage. Jeremiah had deduced that he didn't view her as a marriage partner but a woman to bed, and the engagement was just a way to corner her. She couldn't easily break off her engagement with the Prince, and nobody below his station could interfere and bring the anger of the Royal family on them, not even her father, who was merely a Count. So that only left her two options, Luther himself breaking the engagement or interference from the First or Second Prince.

Well, only one option. Luther certainly wouldn't let her be. But, even the other option wasn't viable. The 2nd Prince had given up his right to the throne, and chose to settle for the title of Duke, distancing himself from the competition for the throne. Having nothing to do with either faction, he had no justification to interfere, even as a prospective partner, as he was very happily married. And the 1st Prince? She didn't even dare to entertain the idea of marrying him or trying to gain his support. All the single women present would each take their little dessert forks and stab her, especially Jewel Harrison, who had set her sights on the First Prince. Jewel was also from the Aristocratic division, and with the First Prince having the biggest chance to inherit the throne, she had decided to snatch the seat of the Queen.

She somehow endured the party, where none of the nobles, not even her fiancé's aunt, Duchess Nelberg, sister of the Queen, came to her defence.

Exhausted and fed up, she lay in bed after leaving the party early, staring at the canopy of her bed.

"I don't think I can do this anymore."

The conflict with the Third Prince had turned into a war of attrition. His despicable demeanour hurt both her feelings and reputation. The incident about Count Wilhem's daughter was a direct result of that.

Wilhelmina Wilhem. A rather unusually named woman, though Jeremiah couldn't really say that as she had a very male name, and one of Jewel's friends. Wilhelmina had the gall to spread rumours about her not being a virgin before marriage. Jeremiah rarely lost her cool in public, but she couldn't ignore the slander about her chastity, and so had found its source and had splashed a cup of tea in her face.

A flurry of accusations had poured on her after Wilhelmina was taken to her room screeching in shock, one of them being that Jeremiah had tried to burn and disfigure her. But that wasn't her intent. Even in anger, she maintained some rationality. Jeremiah had used cold tea - for some reason they only had orange pekoe at the party and she really hated orange pekoe, so her cup was untouched for hours after the first disgusting sip. She had to bend and apologize to Wilhelmina, who smirked at her as she pretended to be burned and in pain.

"I really shouldn't have done that," she muttered. But she had no choice but to do so. Keeping quiet would only be taken as assent that it was true. Rumours about her virginity had died down after that, or rather, she suspected that everyone was scared of being subjected to a tea bath in retaliation.

She had expected that hateful Wilhelmina to show up today and act as if she was burned, but strangely she wasn't there. Still, her absence had an even bigger effect, as everyone treated her as a victim who couldn't even show her face in public now.

"What should I do…"

She continued to stare at the canopy, but then she sat up.

"I'm sick of this."

Putting on her robe and a pair of glasses, she walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Miss! Do you need something?"

"No, Hannah. I am just going to make custard," she smiled.

Hannah was a maid of the mansion. Looking at the young mistress, she said, "I'll get the ingredients right away."

Fifteen minutes later, Jeremiah was boiling milk on the stove when Pascal, the head chef walked into the kitchen.

"Miss! I have told you so many times that you don't have to cook!"

"Save it, Pascal, you know the young miss won't listen," Hannah pinched Pascal, making him jump in shock.

"That hurts, Hannah!"

Jeremiah laughed at the scene. Pascal and Hannah were married with 2 children. Their older son was apprenticing as a chef under his father and the younger one had joined the Count's army.

Hannah settled down at the kitchen table and started shelling peas. The older maid hummed as her husband prepared the ingredients for dinner. Jeremiah smiled warmly at them.

Being at home was nice, and being in the kitchen was even better. The people here cared for her and knew who she really was.

*

Jeremiah sat in the coach and said to the driver, "To the Royal Palace."

She took in a deep breath. She had successfully 'given' the ring back to the Prince, but officially she was still his fiancée. The only way to change that was to appeal to the King.

"I hope he agrees."

Honestly, it was difficult. But she had to try.

'Now, how should I deal with this? I can't say my acting is great, so I won't be able to cry about how the Prince has broken my heart. Should I act outraged that he summoned me to his palace while he was with his mistress? But will that even convince the King?'

She admitted that her reaction was rash, but using this incident to break free was the only way.

"I will have to make this work."

*

There are two ways to meet the King - a private audience or going to the court. There are obvious advantages and disadvantages to both.

For a private audience, one had to either be of significant importance or be directly summoned by the King on matters of great urgency. One could seek a private audience but there was no guarantee that it would be granted. The other way was to go to the court when the King presided over it, and either appeal to him in the general time allotted or bring up the matter through a noble affiliated with the court. The latter had more chances of success.

But who could she appeal to?

None of the nobles, not even the Royalists, would dare to bring up the matter of breaking the engagement. That aside, she couldn't count on the Royalists even though her family was in their faction. House Hestia's might came from her father, Rubel Hestia's battle prowess, not from his political savvy. And they were very unhappy that his daughter was engaged to someone supported by the Aristocracy. She had no positive support from them even when she was abused in social gatherings. She definitely couldn't appeal to the neutral houses either. So, that struck everyone off the list.

'No, maybe father would.'

But Count Rubel Hestia was in battle at the border, subduing the demonic beasts, along with her brother and the heir to the House, Dale Hestia. Dale was being trained in matters of war in order to succeed the title, and they had been away from home for nearly a year.

So the only option she had was to directly appeal to the King, and that was risky. Since this was an important issue, bringing it up in public would not only result in a scandal,and if she offended the King, she might die. The power of the King was absolute.

'Urgh, that damn stupid Prince should just die. Why do I have to go through this?'

As the coach sped on to the Royal Palace, she prayed that the King would be there and not in the court.

*

"Luck is not on my side today," she sighed as she practically jumped into the coach. They had arrived at the Royal Palace, only to be told by the guards that the King was at court.

"To the court then."

She swore to herself that she would end this business anyhow, and strike the path she was planning instead.

*

The previous night. Close to the capital, in a camp set up in the forest.

The cries of pain sounded unimpeded, as did the clashing of metal.

A sudden ambush had struck the company of knights and they were now defending against it.

"It must be that damn Prince Luther. No, he's too stupid to do this. It must be his mother," a man spat out in anger.

"How many times have I told you to keep your cool, and not to curse the members of the Royal family out loud?"

"Oh? Does that mean I can do it in private, father?"

The voices were that of Dale Hestia and Rubel Hestia. They were holding a conversation with ease as they dealt with 10 men who attacked them simultaneously.

The leader of the ambush, a man from the underworld, gulped as he watched the pair of them fighting off his men.

"What monsters they are…"

But even as he said that, he eyed the real target of the ambush, who hadn't moved an inch since the fighting began. His brilliant honey gold eyes and red hair that glowed even at a distance looked on in complete boredom. The leader gritted his teeth.

Just one chance. He had just one chance. He was a renowned assassin in the underworld only known as the Mantis. Even though this was an ambush in the open, he was confident that he could make his way to the owner of the golden eyes and kill him, given the dense darkness in the forest. Even if he couldn't kill him, all he needed to do was nick him. The poison coating his daggers would do the rest.

But as he readied himself to stealthily join the battle and attack, the golden eyed man vanished. His eyes opened in shock.

"Looking for me?"

The Mantis jumped in fright and turned around.

'No way… an assassin like me was ambushed?'

"You… what are you…" he trembled in shock, forgetting that he could still attack the man and poison him.

"What a useless question." So saying the golden eyed man beheaded the Mantis with his sword, ending 8 years of notoriety in a flash. "Tssk. How easy."

"If anyone heard that, they would think you're a blood crazed psycho. Or a war monger."

"Dale Hestia. You're probably the only one who can run your mouth in front of me like that."

"But that is what makes me charming, isn't it?" Dale answered, earning a smack from his father, who had approached them.

"Speak more respectfully," he muttered.

"All clear?" the golden eyed man asked.

"Yes. We tried to capture some of them but the moment you killed their leader they started convulsing and died. I am guessing there is some sort of curse magic involved that linked their lives. I will send some people to investigate where these assassins are from."

"You will find nothing. That woman wouldn't be careless enough to leave traces. At worst, we may catch the master of some ruined house she has ready to take the fall. Even if we had captured the leader, she probably also had some backup to deal with them."

"Alright. We'll prepare to move once the injured are tended to, then." It was too dangerous to stay.

The golden eyed man nodded. He turned and gazed in the direction of the capital.

*

Jeremiah took a deep breath. She was standing in front of the Royal Court.

'Once I step in, my life is on the line. No, not just my life, but the life of everyone connected to me. Please, let His Majesty be in a good mood,' she prayed.

She had taken off her glasses in the coach after she had left the Prince's palace. She schooled her expression as much as she could. She knew she often made a sour expression when trying to focus more on what she was seeing, not that doing that helped, but such an expression would definitely not help her situation right now. So she had to make sure that didn't happen.

She walked in.

There was a large, ornate hall at the entrance, following which there was a long passage leading to the Court hall. As she walked, she debated again how she should behave in order to break her engagement. But ultimately, she decided to bring up her own reputation to break the marriage.

She knew that doing so would hurt her father and brother, but she had no other options. At this point, her reputation was in tatters anyway.

She walked to the court doors. The Royal Guards looked at her as she approached.

"May I escort you, My Lady?" a voice suddenly called to her to her left, making her jump in shock. She couldn't see his face clearly, but she was surprised at the kind tone.

"N… no need for that," she said, somewhat flustered.

"It is fine, My Lady. It is my duty to," he insisted.

"Oh. Alright," she replied, embarrassed.

The man, who seemed to be dressed as a Royal Guard based on the colours she could see on his clothing, reached out his hand, and Jeremiah placed her hand in his. The other guards opened the doors to the Court.

There was a deep silence in the Hall.

'Oh. Did I come at a bad time?'

Jeremiah nearly panicked. If she came at the wrong time and caught the ire of the King, she would surely die.

"Oh, its Lady Jeremiah Hestia. What is she doing here?"

"Is this her first time in the Royal Court? And why is a Royal Guard escorting her?"

A lot of the nobles whispered to each other.

"Silence," a voice boomed, making Jeremiah and most of the nobles flinch.

The Royal Guard whispered, "Be at ease, My Lady. The King won't harm you."

That puzzled Jeremiah. Where did a Royal Guard get this confidence from?

"So, it is my future daughter in-law," a strong, but clearly aged voice reached her.

Jeremiah paled, but quickly gathered her wits.

"Greetings to the Protector of the Great Risweld Kingdom, Your Majesty the King Ludwig Hareld Christina," she said, as she bowed. The Royal Guard beside her kneeled.

The King was seated on his throne, elevated above the rest. He was a man in his 60s with red hair streaked with silver, and a silver beard.

"Raise your head, Lady Jeremiah. At ease, Uswald."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Jeremiah replied.

"What brings you to my Court?"

"I am here to discuss the matter of my engagement."

"Oh? What about it?"

"I request that my engagement with the Third Prince, Luther Othiel Christina, be cancelled."

The Court became deathly silent. Jeremiah felt sweat trickle down her temple.