Chapter 2: One

The 2nd day of Solis, Cetheri Year 592. 

The people of the Aetherium Empire came together in the capital to celebrate the fourteenth birthday of Anastasia de Cetheri, the beloved only child of the King and Queen. There were many rumours floating about that the old King had been preparing to abdicate the throne to his daughter, and everyone expected that His Majesty would make a formal announcement regarding the succession matter during Anastasia’s social debut at the ceremony. 

It wasn’t hard to imagine the tremendous pressure weighing down the young princess’ spirit that morning. Hence, the head maid decided to pay Her Highness a visit after ascertaining that she had roused from her sleep. 

Knocking politely on the oakwood door leading to the princess’ chamber, she cleared her throat lightly.

“Lady Anastasia, may I come in?” 

There wasn’t a reply, but her sharp ears caught the princess’ soft footsteps on the other side, so she quickly took a small step back.

With a quiet click, the door was unlocked and creaked open. Taking it as an acknowledgement of her request, she stepped in through the gap and shut the door behind her. 

“Cecilla, are you here to reprimand me?” 

She faced the perturbed princess sitting cross-legged on her bed and gave a wry smile. “Even if I were to reprimand you, what good will it do?” 

Anastasia made a noise that sounded like an annoyed chuckle and lay down in her sheets before proceeding to throw a tantrum. “I. Don’t. Understand. Father. At. All!!!” 

Cecilla pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and sat down while the princess released her pent-up anger and frustration on her tear-stained pillows. 

“It’s all Father’s fault! Mother too! Why do I have to attend the ceremony in front of so many people? It’s scary, Cecilla, it’s so scary I don’t wanna go uwwwwww…” 

The head maid, long accustomed to the princess’ unpredictable mood swings, simply nodded her head along with her cries. Finally, Anastasia stopped sobbing and sat back up on her bed to look at her. 

“Cecilla, why don’t we escape from here and live as commoners in the countryside?” 

“It’s not a bad idea, Lady Anastasia, but then the empire will be faced with an unprecedented succession crisis that is best avoided.” 

“Then, why can’t Father and Mother just make another child? Preferably a boy, so that he can be the heir apparent and I can give up my title and quietly disappear in the background…” 

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple for His and Her Majesty to conceive a son in consideration of their advanced age.” 

“R-really?” Devastation spelt across Anastasia’s face. “So there’s no way to become a commoner…?”

Cecilla suppressed the urge to laugh and asked politely, “if I may ask, why are you so obsessed with the notion of being a commoner, Lady Anastasia?” 

Without hesitation, the princess produced a small leather-bound book from underneath her mattress and flipped it to the first page. “Look!” 

She read the title aloud. “「After transmigration, I became a mob character in the supercalifragilisticexpialidocious world of smartphones and light novels! Since I was a princess in my former world, I decided to live my new life in peace as a commoner~」...Anastasia, what is this book?” 

“My own fantasy novella,” she proclaimed with brimming pride. 

“You wrote this?” If it was indeed written solely by a fourteen-year-old girl, Cecilla would have been thoroughly impressed to the point of speechlessness—but Anastasia was no ordinary fourteen year old, so it wasn’t too unbelievable that she had the capability to write a full-length story on her own. Nonetheless, she wondered when the princess had the free time to pen down her wild imagination given her strict daily schedule. 

“I wrote it in my sleep,” she boasted happily. “An angel came into my dream last night, Cecilla, and brought me to an impossible place where carriages without horses zipped back and forth the streets and people live in glass buildings as tall as the sky! There was this cute rectangular thing he showed me too which he called a ‘smartphone’, and also storybooks called ‘light novels’...oh, oh, and that many people in that place want to ‘transmigrate’ into our world, you know? In fact, he proposed that if I like that place so much, I can…” 

She babbled on and on, so Cecilla had to stop her before she could continue with her nonsensical explanation. “Lady Anastasia, correct me if I’m wrong, but you wrote your story when you’re supposed to be asleep?”

“Yes—I mean, no, I wrote it while I was asleep…w-w-wait, Cecilla, I promise I didn’t intentionally stay up late after bedtime-eek!” Anastasia yelped in fright when the stern-faced maid made a move to pull on her ear and dove into her sheets in a panic. “I-er-I just asked the angel if I could write down what I saw, and he said I could, and when I woke up this book was already under my pillow! O-oh, and he was the one who suggested the title too!!”  

“Honestly, you…” She let out a resigned sigh and yanked the sheets away from the distraught princess’ hands. “If you have so much time to conjure up an angel, why don’t you seriously think about which man attending today’s ceremony is worthy to be your fiancé? I heard that the esteemed son of Grand Duke Arthur has been invited, what do you think of him?”

“Eh~? Don’t wanna…” Anastasia shook her head vehemently, causing her silky rose-coloured locks of hair to bounce wildly. 

Cecilla gave her an unamused look that was a cross between ‘what did I expect’ and ‘please stop being childish’. 

“Never mind, there’s still a ways to go before your expected engagement date, so please use that time to consider your options, Lady Anastasia.” 

“Uwwww…” 

“Come on, it’s almost time to meet His and Her Majesty. Let’s get you dressed up and ready, shall we?”

Considering that it was her birthday, Cecilla thought she would change the princess’ usual raiment to freshen things up. Forcing her to change out of her nightdress, she chose a midnight blue gown with a low-cut neckline from her wardrobe—something not too obscene, but tastefully alluring such that it would garner approving evaluations from suitors. 

She thought Anastasia would resist her choice of clothing, but she was surprisingly docile after her earlier outbursts. Perhaps crying first thing in the morning had tired her out; especially when she didn’t have much sleep the previous night. 

Weaving the silk strings into neat knots to fasten her dress, she sat her down at the dressing table and began to comb her messy bedhead. 

“Lady Anastasia, what do you think about adding ribbons to your hair?” 

Her expectant lilac eyes shifted upwards to meet her gaze. “What kind of ribbons, Cecila?”

“We could use the new set of lace ribbons the marquis gifted you last week.” She took out a small ivory box with the empire’s crest carved on its lid from the drawer and presented its contents to her. “Which one do you fancy?” 

“Hmm…” she murmured. “White would be a good match, I think.”

Cecilla draped a silk sheet carefully over her gown and dusted her hair lightly with powder. Then, she skillfully tied the sides into loose curls with the white embroidered ribbon band. To complete the intricate coiffure, she lifted up her bangs and slid a silver floral hairpin in to hold them in place.

“It’s done,” she said. “You can look in the mirror now, Lady Anastasia.”

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The princess slowly opened her eyes and blinked at the gorgeous reflection staring back at her in the mirror. “Oh my, you never fail to amaze me with your hairstyles, Cecilla.” 

“I’m honoured to receive your compliment.” The head maid gave a courteous bow and smiled. “Please treat this as my gift to you. Happy birthday, Anastasia dear.”

 

---

 

On the same morning, not far from the grand palace, a ruckus was brewing in the central square of the capital. 

“Please, Your Highness, forgive the girl!” The desperate coachman pleaded with the young master as he tried to quell the situation. “She is already remorseful about her transgression, so Y-your Highness should—”

“Huh?” His master, the insolent son of the Grand Duke, directed a cold and sharp glare at him. “I should what, pray tell?”  

“N-nothing, sire…pardon my rudeness.” The coachman bowed deeply and hurriedly scurried back to the stationary carriage, afraid to even lift his head up to face the crowd gathering around them. 

It was sheer bad luck that the poor commoner girl had accidentally dropped her wares right in the path of the carriage when they were already running late for the royal appointment. He had no choice but to stop the carriage and inform the young master of their delay—and right when he mentioned the commoner, Prince Arthur unsurprisingly flew into a rage and ordered his men to capture the frozen girl. 

“Peasant, know your place!” he haughtily announced as he alighted from the carriage. “Bow before the presence of the Grand Duke’s name immediately!” 

“There he goes again,” the coachman muttered under his breath to himself. “Abusing the family name as he wishes…” 

If the commoner girl was clever, she would have grovelled at the prince’s feet without hesitation and begged for her life. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like the girl understood the temperament of the prince, because she ignored him and struggled to break free from her restraints instead.

“ARE YOU DEAF?” Prince Arthur raised his right leg and delivered a ruthless kick straight into the girl’s shin, knocking her on her knees. “This is why I despise commoners, you lot only know how to piss! Me! Off!” 

While he uttered the last three words, he rained blows on the cowering girl’s head and spat in her face squarely. Although the square was packed with people, no one dared to step in for fear of incurring the wrath of the prince. A group of low-ranking nobles even sneered at the commoner as they passed by, knowing that the prince especially loved to pick on girls of younger age. 

“Ah, darn it, my gloves are all dirty now.” The prince straightened his back and threw his pair of black leather gloves on the ground in front of the trembling girl. “Compensate me, bitch.”

Unable to look on any further, the coachman bravely stepped in to stop the Prince—but he could ultimately do nothing lest he become the next target of his master. 

Out of the blue, a strange quiet descended upon the main square. 

“What in the name of His Majesty is going on?” A young man approached the prince and the girl, his brows furrowed in a pensive frown. He caught the coachman’s surprised stare and smiled ever so slightly. “This honourable gentleman here, can you brief me on what has transpired to lead to the sorry state of this young girl?” 

“...” The coachman was stunned by the man’s elegant manner of speech despite his unremarkable robe and ordinary appearance.

“Who are you?” Prince Arthur glared at the stranger with reproachful eyes, evidently unnerved by the air of authority around him. 

The man simply eyed the prince with a look of quiet disdain. “With all due respect, I am from the clergy, Your esteemed Highness.” 

He spoke in a polite whisper, yet sarcasm oozed beneath his benign affability. The crowd of onlookers began to murmur quietly among themselves upon this revelation. 

“I heard that the leaders of the Church are attending today’s ceremony…” 

“Then, isn’t he a high-ranking priest?” 

“From his looks, I could never imagine…” 

The prince instinctively took a step back from the man, his face paling with fear. If word of his misdeeds got out to the Church and they decided to launch an investigation, he knew that his father would be powerless to protect him from the consequences. Without hesitation, he hurriedly kneeled before the man; everyone, even the coachman, had looks of surprise on their faces. 

“Praise be the Lord! I was passing by when I witnessed this girl being beaten up by some thugs, so I stopped to lend her a helping hand—” 

“I didn’t ask you to explain, Your Highness,” the man said icily before looking at the coachman. 

“...it’s His Highness’ fault, Reverend Sir.” He bowed and admitted everything to the man. “But please take His Highness’ inexperience and immaturity into account, and give him a chance to repent.”

The man shifted his gaze to the kneeling prince and instructed him to stand up. “Are you willing to repent, Your Highness?” 

“Y-yes, Reverend Father, I humbly request for your f-forgiveness…” 

 

---

 

Looking at the leaving carriage in the distance, the man turned his attention to the sobbing girl. “It’s alright now. I’ll take you someplace to treat your wounds, okay?” 

“F-father…t…thank uuuu…” She was so overcome with gratitude and relief that she could barely choke back her tears. 

“Um, no, please don’t call me ‘Father’,” he said with an awkward smile. “I’m a commoner, just like you. Name’s Xavier.” He held his hand out to help the girl to her feet and asked gently, “what’s your name?” 

“M-Maria.” She blinked in astonishment. “Big brother Xavier, you really aren’t from the clergy?” 

“No, but I did a good job of pretending to be one, didn’t I?” He chuckled and winked at Maria. “As for my real job, I’m just a lowly conman. Don’t tell that to anyone, okay?”

 

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