The King’s Diary and a Lost Princess

“Please follow me, Your Majesty.”

The butler led the way. Ophelia stepped inside, with Emily and Marta trailing behind. They both halted midway, bewildered, as Ophelia stood frozen ahead of them.

Social anxiety manifests in myriad ways. One such manifestation involves a profound sense of inferiority that wells up from the depths of one’s heart upon entering a bustling, opulent place, akin to a country bumpkin arriving in the big city. Ophelia was currently experiencing this sensation with overwhelming intensity, given the sheer lavishness of the interior.

Everything glittered, seemingly adorned with jewels at every turn. Ophelia harbored a slight doubt, wondering if she could truly step inside without sullying the pristine floors.

“Your Majesty?” The butler turned back, his tone laced with a hint of inquiry.
“Your Majesty?” Emily gently patted Ophelia’s shoulder.

Ophelia snapped back to reality as if waking from a dream. A blush crept onto her cheeks.

“My apologies,” she stammered. “I was lost in thought for a moment. Let us proceed.”

She offered an awkward, sheepish smile. How could she possibly admit to these people that she had been utterly overwhelmed!

“Very well, Your Majesty. That is the King’s study, a place we are not permitted to touch. I humbly request Your Majesty to undertake its organization on our behalf. Should you require anything, please ring the bell outside. This old servant now takes his leave.”

The butler bowed deeply. Ophelia nodded.

The butler truly appeared ancient. It must have been taxing for an ordinary old man to have served here for so long; she resolved to see if he wished to retire later.

As Ophelia mused on this, she opened the study door. A distinct aura instantly wafted out, carrying the scent of something long undisturbed.

Ophelia stepped inside, her slender, delicate fingers tracing over the dust-laden documents, and a wave of melancholy once again washed over her heart.

Even a king, after death, could be so utterly solitary, his belongings strewn haphazardly across the floor…

She shook her head, realizing there was no time for such sentimentality now. Dismissing her wistful thoughts, she began to pick up the various items scattered across the King’s desk, one by one. Their exact nature was unimportant; what truly mattered was whether Vina’s name was mentioned anywhere.

Data of all kinds, documents of every sort—though this was clearly the King’s private chamber, there seemed to be not a single personal item belonging to him.

Marta glanced around for a moment before losing interest, standing rigidly at attention with her sword at her side, fulfilling her role as a guard.

Emily, however, watched with keen fascination, truly living up to her reputation as the woman who governed the nation in the books.

Wait, this one?

She picked up a simple black notebook, opened it, and flipped through a few pages.

“X year, X month, XX day. Sunny. Eli spoke his first words today, and I am overjoyed. However, his first word wasn’t ‘Papa’ but ‘woman,’ which I find rather peculiar.”

???
That rascal! So he was a lecher from childhood!

Hold on, this isn’t one of those tedious ledgers, but a diary? Excellent, excellent, excellent! Vina’s name must surely be in here.

“Overcast. Hizeta seems terribly unsuited to dealing with others. The child is truly shy, a temperament ill-fitting for a princess.”

Shy?! You call that shy?

Tucked inside was a childhood photograph of Hizeta, peeking timidly from behind someone unknown, clutching a small bear. She was utterly adorable, beyond measure.

Good heavens, did Hizeta really turn out… less than beautiful?

“X year, X month, XX day. Heavy Rain. Eli stole a maid’s undergarments and was severely reprimanded by me. I ordered him to apologize profusely to the maid. Eli is destined to become King in the future, and such actions are unacceptable.”

Ah, so he truly was a scoundrel from childhood! How utterly disgraceful!

“X year, X month, XX day. Hail. A distant relative of mine sent me a younger brother named Luca. As my blood kin, I will naturally treat him favorably, but I will not grant him true authority.”

“Luca is a man who walks with the predatory gaze of a hawk and a wolf, appearing more like a sovereign than a subject. He is exceedingly shrewd and tactful, yet utterly devoid of a pure heart. He is an extreme egoist; he must not be granted true power, merely allowed to live a comfortable life.”

Is Luca truly such a person? I have no recollection of this. In the novel, Luca was quite kind and manly, wasn’t he?
The King’s judgment of character wasn’t very accurate, it seems. He misjudged both Hizeta and Luca.

“X year, X month, XX day. Tornado. An uninvited guest arrived at my royal palace.”
“It was a child, a pitiable child. One day, I became intoxicated outside and inadvertently lay with a commoner woman. This girl is the unfortunate product of that impure liaison.”
“To think I chastise Eli daily, when I myself am a scoundrel from birth. Has Eli inherited this part of me? I must redouble my efforts to restrain and educate him in the future.”
“Regardless, for Vina, I must fulfill my duties as a father.”

Yes! This is it!

A thrill coursed through Ophelia.

“Emily!” she exclaimed, feigning an impassioned tone.

Emily, who had been engrossed in the King’s posthumous documents, looked up.
“Is something amiss, Your Majesty?” she inquired.

Ophelia, suppressing her inner excitement, feigned confusion as she asked:

“The King’s diary mentions another princess named Vina. Where has she gone?”

“Vina? Hmm… I believe I’ve heard of that princess… but I’m not sure where she is now?” Emily blinked, pondering.

Good, I knew you wouldn’t know. I asked specifically on purpose.

“Marta, what about you? Do you know?”

Marta shook her head.

Just as I thought, neither of them knows. This way, I can obtain the information from the old butler!

She opened the door and rang the bell.

The old butler approached.
“May I be of assistance, Your Majesty?” he asked.

Ophelia pointed to the diary.

“Old sir,” she began, “this diary mentions a princess named Vina, yet since my arrival at the palace, I have never heard of such a princess. Might I inquire as to her whereabouts…?”

The old butler paused, taken aback.

“You are unaware of Princess Vina?! Is she truly not in the royal palace at this moment?! She was the late King’s most cherished princess; how could Your Majesty possibly not have met her!?”

“I truly don’t know,” Ophelia replied, feigning ignorance. “Where is she?”

“This old servant does not know either. Ever since the late King’s passing, I have been consumed by grief and have not left this palace by a single step. How could Princess Vina be gone!? This old servant even let her ride on his back like a horse when she was but a child!”

What a kind old man…

No, wait! The old man actually doesn’t know where she is?! None of you know? Only I do? But I can’t just blurt out that I suddenly know her whereabouts!

Damn it.
What am I to do now? Officially, I have no idea where Vina is… I’ve hit a dead end… And here I thought this plan was clever… Wuwu, I was wrong…

Meanwhile, elsewhere.

“The maid I planted by the King’s side has proven effective. The Queen now knows of Vina’s existence, but she remains unaware of Vina’s whereabouts.”

Among the same dozen or so nobles, the one with the perpetually grave expression spoke again.

“Then, Delores, what is our next course of action?” another noble inquired.

“It’s simple. Supporting the Queen requires an opportune moment, and we shall provide her with that very moment. We will inform the Queen of Vina’s location and escort her there, allowing us to observe the Queen’s reactions firsthand.”

A chessboard lay before the noble. She picked up a piece from the board—the Queen.

Turning to the other nobles, she declared:

“Whether our reforms, our ideals, can truly be entrusted to this Queen, rests entirely on this single endeavor.”