Princess Etiquette

Within the Emerald City’s Radiant Star Palace.

Over countless ages, the elves amassed a wealth of treasures, crafting the Emerald Holy City from jade and agate in their sacred land.
This city, revered by the elves, seemed chiseled by divine hammer and nail, a masterpiece of art.

Majestic and grand on the outside, resplendent and opulent within, the Radiant Star Palace, one of the Emerald City’s most vital halls, was built from precious golden wood and millennia-old jade.
Polished jade tiles gleamed like mirrors, supported by sturdy, towering divine wood pillars.
Unlike the ostentatious luxury of human palaces, the elves’ Radiant Star Palace, embodying elegance and nature, transcended the vulgarity of gold and silver, showcasing their supreme architectural artistry.

In this sacred palace, a delicate figure moved forward with cautious, graceful steps.

In the quiet hall, the only sound was the crisp clack of high heels on the floor.

Selina felt her neck had gone completely numb.
To keep the scalding coffee cup balanced on her head from falling or spilling, she had to muster every ounce of the refined ladylike etiquette ingrained in her body over five years.
Wearing princess heels crafted from emerald crystal, she took elegant, cat-like steps under stringent conditions, maintaining stability while adhering to the strictest standards: no showing of feet, no excessive strides, no baring of teeth when smiling—a litany of ultra-refined requirements.

Truth be told, in this state, Selina exuded the epitome of a princess’s dignified grace.
Her silky silver hair was woven by her maid into an intricate wheat-braid princess style.
The long princess dress, made from celestial silk, accentuated her budding figure.
Though not as maturely alluring as Felicia, the youthful innocence of a developing elven girl was captivating, her slender legs forced into pure, charming white stockings.

Her jade-like legs in white stockings were like irresistible ice cream, yet this delicacy was not for others to savor.
The royalty’s prestige encased this purity in crystal heels, safeguarding the dreamlike white allure.

Glistening sweat beaded on Selina’s breathtakingly beautiful face.
Though exhaustion stiffened her muscles and her gem-like emerald eyes grew dim and blurry, she forced herself to maintain a poised smile.

Why was Selina, who once dared to defy heaven, earth, and the Empress, enduring such hardship?
Simple: the fear of being spanked like an Ansei waist drum was far worse than practicing ladylike etiquette.

Since their falling out, that damned Karina had dropped all pretense.
Gone was the mask of a gentle mother.
Though she still greeted Selina with a warm expression and treated her as a princess, the orders relayed through her maid these past few days were downright inhumane.

Perhaps fearing that Selina, with her restored memories, would idle in her chambers and scheme mischief, Karina ensured her days were packed.
How?
Simple: wake at six for elven ancestral recitations, breakfast at seven-thirty, then from eight onward, under her maid’s watchful eye, copying the Ladylike Etiquette Code.
The writing had to be precise, graceful, and elegant.
Elven script, famed across the Seraris Continent for its beauty, transformed nature’s flora into art-like characters.
But their beauty came at a cost—complexity.
Even ordinary people struggled to write them, let alone write them well.

Fortunately, this body had five years of rigorous noble etiquette training.
Every princess requirement was met, and muscle memory helped.
Coping with Karina’s demands was manageable, but copying all morning was exhausting!

Selina could feel herself breaking down, dreaming of the etiquette rules she’d transcribed even in her sleep.

After morning tasks came lunch, but a maid—or sometimes Karina herself—supervised.
Nominally, it was the Empress taking time from her busy schedule to dine with her dear daughter, but in reality, it was constant surveillance.
Any hint of crude behavior or breach of noble etiquette triggered Karina’s “benevolent” smile to turn “nuclear-kind.”
Then, Selina would be dragged to the Empress’s chamber for a session of “loving” discipline.

To avoid the humiliation of being treated like a drum, Selina bore these perverse demands with gritted teeth.

Afternoons were straightforward: princess etiquette training from post-lunch rest until dinner.
The regimen included, but wasn’t limited to, posture training, conversational speech, expression management, and etiquette practice.

These bone-chilling requirements were each more outrageous than the last.
Take her current task—posture training.
She had to walk elegantly in high heels with a scalding coffee cup balanced on her head.
Her hands couldn’t spread for balance—that was crude in noble eyes.
Instead, they had to be clasped properly at her waist, adhering to rules like “no showing feet, steps no wider than an inch, no baring teeth, hands not above the chest.”

In short, Karina was clearly intent on tormenting Selina, embedding noble etiquette into her masculine soul to curb any destructive or vengeful impulses.

Perhaps from smiling too long, the expression had frozen on Selina’s face.
But it was far from genuine.
Karina knew her rebellious daughter’s smile was a facade—outwardly cheerful, inwardly cursing.

Dealing with a rebellious child required love, Karina claimed.
But to Selina, it was that old woman cloaking cruelty in righteousness.
Karina’s actions were unforgivable, and once Selina gained the power to turn the tables, she’d repay every bit of this torment and pain!

For now?
Hah! A true man could bend and stretch.
Enduring humiliation was for a better tomorrow.
Her graceful curtsies and soft, melodious voice weren’t because she’d grown accustomed—they were mere disguises.
When she rose to power, this fake princess would transform back into the dashing, rugged uncle of her heart!

So Selina thought, maintaining her pure, charming smile under her maid Tsui Bis’s scrutiny.
Was this smile a temporary mask or a lasting habit?

Only Selina herself could say.