Chapter 2

At twenty-one years old, Dianne Ortenza was a young woman with many admirable traits.

She was beautiful enough to turn heads on the street without needing to hide or dress up. Though she didn’t believe in God, she could recite the Holy Scripture from cover to cover. Her handwriting was so elegant that she’d once earned pocket money in school ghostwriting love letters for her classmates. And while it wasn’t something she could boast of publicly, her figure was enviable.

She held no title, nor would she ever, but all things considered, she was set to live a decent enough life for the daughter of a low-ranking noble family. At the very least, she wasn’t in danger of being sold off as the third wife of some decrepit old man.

Dianne Ortenza considered herself a fortunate woman.

At least, until a letter arrived from the Imperial Palace.

* * *

“Welcome to Oakhall, Miss Ortenza. This is our first time meeting in person, I believe.”

The woman greeting her was Countess Evelina of Ornin, the head lady-in-waiting to the Imperial Princess. She appeared to be in her early thirties, and she was the one who had penned the letter Dianne had carefully tucked into her only outing handbag.

She looked just as refined as her elegant, meticulous handwriting. Her jet-black hair was pinned up so tightly that not a single strand had escaped the delicate mesh veil. Her dark navy gown was devoid of all unnecessary ornamentation. So crisp and pristine it was almost suffocating.

It had been a palace servant who handed the letter to Dianne at the Ervinzel estate. Naturally, the household had assumed a letter from the Imperial Palace was meant for the Grand Duchess herself. When the servant bypassed the royal and asked for the governess, the confusion was palpable.

But no one had been more bewildered than Dianne herself.

To Miss Dianne Ortenza,

I hope this letter safely found its way to your hands.

I am Countess Evelina of Ornin, head lady-in-waiting to Her Imperial Highness Princess Elphenlira Catalos e Catalos^[1], sister to His Majesty Emperor Rezion Catalos e Catalos.

There is a matter of some urgency I wish to discuss with you. I ask that you visit Oakhall, my residence within the Imperial Palace, three days from now in the afternoon.

The Grand Duchess of Ervinzel has already given her permission, so there is no need for concern.

— Countess Evelina of Ornin

By the time Dianne had read the letter, the palace servant who should’ve received her reply had already returned to the palace. There was no option to decline, nor even a way to inquire about the reason for the summons. And as luck would have it, Grand Duchess Ervinzel—who might’ve been the only one who could offer an explanation—had just departed for her eastern territory.

In the end, Dianne chose the finest outfit she owned and boarded the carriage sent from the Imperial Palace.

From the grand ducal estate in the capital, it was a long ride before she finally arrived at the palace.

Oakhall was the residence traditionally reserved for the emperor’s daughters and unmarried sisters, nestled deep within the palace grounds. Dianne had to walk a considerable distance behind a palace servant to reach it, as only members of the royal family were permitted to ride or be carried in litters^[2] within the expansive grounds.

Countess Evelina of Ornin greeted Dianne at the entrance to Oakhall and led her along a polished path that wound beside the lakeside. Trailing behind them were two ladies-in-waiting and four maids dressed in styles nearly identical to the countess. Though none were formally introduced, Dianne had little doubt that the ladies-in-waiting were noblewomen themselves.

And yet, she found it strange that they followed a step behind her, as though they were escorting her.

Throughout the walk, Countess Evelina maintained a tone that was both warm and distant.

“I hope the journey here wasn’t too uncomfortable?”

“No, not at all. The carriage made it quite easy. Thank you.”

“I was the one who invited you. Sending for you was only proper. I worried it might have been too sudden and caused trouble.”

“Not at all. The Grand Duchess of Ervinzel gave her permission.”

“Ah, yes. You’ve been staying with the grand duchy for over a year now, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Dianne was sparing with her words.

A governess in a grand ducal household occupied a peculiar position. Neither fully family nor fully servant. Though it wasn’t officially called a “salary,” the financial support she received from the duchy was not insignificant, and with it came an unspoken expectation of loyalty.

The House of Ervinzel was a close branch of the Imperial Family and one of the Emperor’s most powerful allies. Dianne doubted that the head lady-in-waiting to the Emperor’s sister would try to pry anything out of a mere governess, but one could never be too careful.