The Prince’s Farce and the Queen’s Light

Glasses clinked, conversations buzzed.

Ophelia stood shrouded in shadow, Marta a silent sentinel behind her. Many nobles at such banquets shed their pretenses, unwilling to waste time greeting a queen devoid of true power, for such courtesies offered them no tangible benefit.

This suited her perfectly.

Possessing a deep-seated social anxiety, Ophelia found herself utterly inept at handling social interactions. From her secluded corner, she could survey the entire scene, awaiting the protagonist’s grand entrance and subsequent moment in the spotlight, after which she would simply need to smooth things over.

‘Hmm… let me see, that must be Emily!’

Her long black hair framed a smiling face, yet that smile, Emily, seemed unmistakably artificial. The book had explicitly described Emily as utterly perfect.

‘No, wait, a feigned smile is often the highest form of respect shown to strangers in noble society, so perhaps this is actually the best approach…?’

‘Oh no, my CPU is burning out.’

Ophelia decided to abandon her overthinking, her gaze fixed intently on Emily.

The Emily from the book was also quite pitiable.

She had constantly worn the mask of a perfect lady, unaware even of her own desires, until, after a period of wandering with the male protagonist, she finally embraced her true self upon their return.

As the second female lead, her popularity soared. She was an exceptionally brilliant girl, sharing a profound intellectual connection with the male protagonist, serving as his co-strategist, and exuding an undeniable coolness.

Yet, in the end, the male protagonist did not choose her. Emily bid him farewell beneath a starlit sky—a scene that had left countless readers with a lingering sense of regret and sorrow. What a pity.

Emily had also been unlocked on the system panel.

[Emily Growth Value: 0]

‘Hmm, speaking of the system, what exactly was that garbled text from Marta earlier?’

[This system does not know. This is an algorithm of this system, but the calculated value appeared as garbled text. This system does not know what happened.]

“This won’t happen again, will it? If I’m about to go back and suddenly all the female protagonist’s growth values turn into garbled text, who am I supposed to cry to?”

[Impossible. It is likely that individual Marta was emotionally agitated at the time, causing emotional紊乱 (TL Note: emotional disorder or disturbance), which this system could not measure. This system never makes mistakes!]

As Ophelia quietly conversed with the system in her mind, the door was suddenly kicked open with a resounding crash.

“Hoo-hahahahaha! This Prince has arrived! Everyone! Bow down and worship!”

It was truly the same entrance as described in the book.

Ophelia glanced over, spotting the male protagonist—Imperial Uncle Luca—standing in a corner exactly as depicted in the book. He held a wine glass, cloaked in a black trench coat, seemingly merging with the shadows themselves.

‘Hmm, it seems nothing should go wrong today. The male protagonist will surely save Emily, and then I’ll just need to help the protagonists persuade Eli’s soldiers.’

‘Ugh, for the sake of the growth value, I’ll have to speak in front of everyone again. So nervous, my palms are sweating.’

The farce unfolding before her continued its steady progression.

“Your Highness Eli,” Emily greeted him, her bow impeccably precise.

Eli, for his part, tossed his long, boyish golden hair, then haughtily regarded others through flared nostrils.

“Ah, it’s you, woman. What is it? Don’t tell me you’re here to lecture this Prince again!”

The book mentioned that Eli believed he was destined for the throne. The King had disciplined Eli with extreme strictness, which led Eli to literally ‘dance on his grave’ (TL Note: a Chinese idiom meaning to celebrate someone’s death or disrespect their memory) after the King’s passing, doing the exact opposite of his father’s dying advice.

For instance, when the King urged him to exercise restraint, Eli would spend every night indulging himself at clubs, succumbing to drink and debauchery.

When the King implored him to fulfill his princely duties and govern the nation responsibly, Eli utterly disregarded state affairs, dedicating his days to hedonistic pursuits.

Emily, attempting to advise Eli for the good of the kingdom, infuriated him. He publicly announced the annulment of their engagement to her, which plunged Emily into a deep depression for a considerable time.

“Prince, please don’t indulge in your desires every day. An excellent prince…”

Emily was quite considerate in her approach.

Instead of reprimanding Prince Eli publicly, she first apologized for his tardiness before the assembled crowd, then drew him aside into a corner to quietly offer her counsel.

However, her words remained unfinished.

Eli burst into laughter.

He flung his head back, then strode with an arrogant, ‘six-亲-不-认’ (TL Note: a Chinese idiom describing a brazen, defiant demeanor, literally ‘disowning all relatives’) swagger to the center of the crowd. Without so much as a glance, he swept his arms wide, embracing several noblewomen at once.

He then cast a provocative gaze at Emily.

Emily, feeling a surge of anger but unable to outwardly express it, could only stomp her foot and urgently whisper, “Eli! Stop making a scene!”

Eli pouted, exuding less the air of a prince and more that of a scoundrel.

He kissed one noblewoman, then another, leaving them all stunned, for one was betrothed to another noble, and another was already a wife.

“Under Heaven, nothing is not the King’s land; among men, none are not the King’s subjects! Therefore! All women are mine!”

“I shall ‘clap hands’ (TL Note: a euphemism for having sexual intercourse) with whomever I please!”

He declared proudly.

Aside from his sycophants, the faces of the remaining nobles turned ashen.

“And you, Emily! Constantly preventing me from ‘favoring’ (TL Note: a euphemism for a ruler or noble having sexual relations with a woman) my own women, you are too prone to jealousy and utterly clueless about how to please a man! Therefore, I declare there is no need for you to be with me! You are unworthy of becoming my wife!”

“I hereby announce the annulment of our engagement!”

Emily’s eyes lost their focus for a fleeting moment.

“You… Eli… stop joking…”

“Hahahahahaha! How could you possibly think I’m joking, you foolish woman? I am the future monarch! My words are law! Therefore, your engagement has now been annulled by me!”

Ophelia observed Emily’s distraught and incredulous expression, a pang of pity stirring within her heart.

Cast aside so casually due to the childish whims of an immature individual, Emily was now utterly vulnerable. In the eyes of the nobility, once an engagement was annulled, no matter how absurd the reason, the jilted party would inevitably face scorn and ridicule.

This was especially true for a perfect lady like Emily, whose reputation had always been impeccable; she would be subjected to prolonged mockery because of this perceived blemish. Emily had done nothing wrong, yet she would bear this stain for an extended period.

‘Shouldn’t the male protagonist make his appearance now?’

Ophelia looked again towards Luca, the male protagonist, only to discover he had vanished once more. The corner that had been his was now utterly empty, devoid of even a single soul.

‘What does this mean?’

‘What’s wrong with this male protagonist?’

‘Don’t tell me I have to step in again?’

Ophelia looked left, then right. The faces of the nobles initially showed bewilderment, which quickly gave way to indifference or blatant mockery. They watched Emily, who could barely stand steady in the center, openly scrutinizing and pointing at her.

Emily felt her world collapse in an instant, plunging into absolute silence.

‘Why is this happening?’

‘What did I do wrong?’

‘I was merely fulfilling my duties, so why… why am I being abandoned like this?’

She plummeted from the clouds.

To have her engagement annulled in such a manner, before everyone’s eyes… her future had been snatched away in a single, devastating moment.

‘Why…’

‘Why!?’

She longed to weep, yet found herself unable to shed a single tear. She yearned to escape, but everyone, fueled by malice, encircled her, pointing and whispering. She could see the blatant mockery on many faces; they had found new fodder for their post-dinner conversations.

‘Ha…’

Unable to see the light when she looked up, unable to find solid ground beneath her feet when she looked down, she felt disconnected from herself, unable even to breathe.

It was as if she were drowning…

“Enough, Eli! Stop this foolishness!”

A sharp rebuke cut through the air.

‘Rebuking Eli?’

Emily, still reeling from dizziness, steadied herself, feeling as though someone had pulled her from suffocating waters. Many years later, Emily would still vividly recall the sight before her that day.

That gentle figure stood before her, shielding her from the gazes of everyone present.

The Queen, Ophelia—

She stood bathed in light.