The World Beyond the Palace Walls

Ophelia froze in place.

Emily appeared visibly upset, her hands planted on her hips, her eyes practically blazing with fury.

“And why have you removed your shoes?”

‘It feels as though you’re angry not because I didn’t call you, but because I took off my shoes.’

‘Is there an issue with removing my shoes? In my previous life, I always enjoyed taking off my shoes and walking barefoot on the grass during outings.’

“Because, well, the grass felt so soft and pleasant beneath my feet, so I took them off…”

Ophelia watched Emily with a cautious gaze.

“Um, Emily, is there something wrong with removing my shoes?”

‘Does it perhaps violate etiquette?’

Emily let out a sigh. She glanced at the cluster of nobles who had ceased their socializing and were now looking their way, then turned her attention back to Ophelia. Ophelia’s eyes, filled with confusion and bewilderment, watched her warily.

‘The Queen is always like this, completely unaware of her own allure. That’s precisely why they want to confine her…’

“No, it’s nothing. My main annoyance is that the Queen didn’t call for me. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I assumed you were occupied with matters of state. I apologize, Emily. From now on, whenever I leave, I will make sure to call for you.” Ophelia offered a careful apology.

It seemed Emily’s anger had mostly dissipated, her tone softening to a more placid cadence.

Suddenly, Ophelia seized Emily’s hand.

“Let’s explore the surroundings together! This marks my very first time venturing outside the palace walls!”

Emily paused, then turned to cast a glance at Ophelia. A flicker of sorrow and tenderness surfaced in her eyes, though she swiftly concealed these emotions.

“Your Majesty, are you familiar with something called a kite?”

‘A kite?’

Ophelia tilted her head.

In her previous life, she had flown a kite once before. She cherished the sensation of it—the exhilaration of running across the grass, the wind whistling past her ears, a profound sense of liberation as if her very being took flight.

Observing Ophelia’s wistful expression, Emily mistook it for confusion, and a pang of sympathy tightened in her chest. With a flourish, as if performing a magic trick, she produced a kite.

It depicted a bird soaring with outstretched wings.

“Your Majesty, come, try this. Let out the kite string, then run.”

Ophelia accepted the kite.

“Alright!”

As she prepared to run, she suddenly turned back. Emily was poised to watch her go, while Marta, having returned to her silent vigil, stood steadfastly behind her, a hand resting on her sword hilt, exuding an aura of unwavering security.

“Emily, Marta.”

“From now on, you needn’t call me ‘Your Majesty.’ Ophelia will suffice. If that’s too much of a mouthful, then ‘Ophe’ is perfectly fine! Please, no more of this ‘Your Majesty’ or referring to yourselves as my subordinates.”

“We are close friends, aren’t we?” A flicker of shock passed through both Marta’s and Emily’s eyes, but Ophelia was already running.

****

In the distance.

The nobles watched Ophelia.

“Indeed, just as you predicted, Duchess Delores. Your foresight is truly divine. This Queen is so wonderfully naive it’s almost delightful.” A noble began to fawn over Delores.

Since the coup, Prince Eli had inexplicably fallen silent, and Hizeta had also begun living with the Queen. The Queen’s faction placed immense trust in Delores.

Delores had become a rising star. Many nobles who had previously disdained the idea of proposing marriage to her now flocked to her doorstep, and her family’s title had been elevated to Duke.

However, Delores had rejected them all.

She sat on the grass now, observing Ophelia—the Queen of a nation—who had shed her shoes and was frolicking across the lawn like a joyful sprite. She ran, her kite a white bird soaring with outstretched wings in her hand.

“Yet this Queen possesses such remarkable beauty. Tell me, if a new king were to emerge in the future, surely he wouldn’t transgress societal norms by marrying her, would he? We might still have a chance, no?” Another young male noble, captivated by Ophelia’s recent appearance, spoke as his gaze fixated on her bare feet.

He uttered this, practically drooling.

“Hahahahaha.” The surrounding nobles chuckled with a knowing air.

They began to secretly exchange lewd jokes, lost in their own fantasies, believing themselves masters of the world. Delores felt a surge of irritation, and simultaneously, a poignant sadness at having to align herself with such nobles.

She simply stopped listening to their chatter, her eyes fixed instead on the running Queen.

This particular stretch of grass served as a recreational ground for the nobles, a place for their spring excursions.

At the far end of the lawn, a babbling brook flowed.

Across the brook lay scattered farmhouses amidst winding paths.

Having grown tired from her run, Ophelia sat beside the brook. She dipped her feet into the water, finding its icy coolness and gentle current wonderfully soothing.

Her playful spirit awakened, she swished her pale, delicate bare feet, playfully splashing in the water with her small, exquisite toes.

The clear brook mirrored her reflection, along with those of Emily and Marta.

Then, an additional shadow appeared.

The shadow belonged to a grubby little girl.

With flaxen hair and clad in a tattered, darkened cloth, she shivered. Though winter was giving way to spring, a chill still lingered in the air.

The little girl was barely clothed, trembling uncontrollably, her emaciated frame starkly visible.

She gazed at Ophelia.

A fierce longing burned in her eyes. She reached out a hand, only to collapse weakly moments later.

In an instant, Ophelia rose. She rushed forward and gently gathered the fallen little girl into her arms; the child’s body felt almost weightless.

Marta and Emily quickly followed.

[This human female幼体 (TL Note: a biological term referring to an immature organism, here used for a child) is not in critical danger, but she hasn’t eaten in two days. Her vital signs are extremely weak.]

[It is assessed that this human female幼体 (TL Note: immature organism/child) was attempting to beg the host for food due to extreme hunger…]

Before Ophelia could fully react, a man and a woman, equally ragged in appearance, rushed out. They stopped before Ophelia, then quickly knelt and kowtowed.

“My lady, our child has undoubtedly offended you! We beg of you, please, please, she is but a child and knows no better! She did not intend to soil your fine clothes!”

Ophelia froze, taken aback.

She was particularly ill-equipped to handle such a situation, remaining rooted awkwardly to the spot, utterly at a loss.

The man and woman continued to kowtow.

“Please, in your great generosity, we beg of you, we beg of you…”

‘Beg me for what? Food, presumably. I recall asking Marta to bring some bread and sandwiches…’

“Please, don’t kill her!”

A sudden jolt struck Ophelia’s heart.

The little girl in her arms breathed weakly, seemingly having gone without food for a long time. Her body was feather-light, and the man and woman before her were no different—gaunt and clad in rags.

Gazing into the distance.

The charming farmhouses amidst winding paths, so beautiful from afar, were in fact dilapidated thatched huts, offering no protection from rain or wind.

Many people watched them, similarly dressed in tattered clothing. The younger ones stared at Ophelia, their eyes burning with anger, resentment, and envy.

The older ones, devoid of emotion, possessed hollow eyes that spoke of countless pains accumulated over years, leading to utter numbness.

Behind Ophelia lay the bustling royal capital, where people squandered food, used wine as bathwater, and piled unwanted provisions into mountains of intractable waste.

Before her, however, stretched the squalid farmlands, where countless individuals were barely clothed, suffering from both hunger and cold.

Ophelia remained silent.

She produced a bottle of water, took a small sip herself, then, pristine and unblemished, brought her lips to those of the dirty little girl, who resembled a discarded rag doll, allowing the child to swallow the meager drops.

Next, she took the food basket from Marta’s hand, gently placed the little girl on the ground, and then carefully set the basket beside her.

The man and woman froze, as did everyone else observing.

“You are a good person! A truly good person! May you live for a thousand years! We thank you for your immense generosity!” The man suddenly burst into tears. The woman, still kowtowing and shouting these words, had scraped her forehead raw until it bled, yet remained utterly oblivious.

Ophelia remained silent still.

She turned, preparing to depart.

“This humble one presumes too much, but may I know your name!?” A voice called from behind her.

“My name is Ophelia, your Queen, and your current regent,” Ophelia replied.

‘If the people require an object for their hatred,’

‘Then let them hate me.’

‘I had believed that beyond the royal capital lay only the fullness of spring, yet the spring breeze never reached this brook. Outside, there is only human suffering, and I, until now, had remained entirely ignorant.’

The nobles had been observing the scene intently.

“Foolish! Utterly idiotic! As expected, utterly naive! These commoners will only take an inch and demand a mile. Feed them, and they’ll want rights! Give them rights, and they’ll demand equality! The Queen is far too kind. If it were me, I’d order the knights to slaughter this entire village!” The noble who had previously told lewd jokes guffawed as he spoke.

Other nobles chuckled, assenting to the Marquis’s profound insight.

“No matter. Once I inherit my father’s ducal title, and after helping Lady Delores successfully implement her reforms, attaining a considerable standing, I shall marry the Queen! Then I’ll make sure she understands a man’s true methods!”

He roared with laughter.

Delores ignored him, her gaze fixed steadily on the Queen in the distance.

She was stunned.

‘As a child, I once traveled the entire kingdom with my father.’

‘What I witnessed was human suffering, what I heard were countless tragedies: people starved and froze, exploited by the nobility.’

‘Even with my eyes closed, I could hear the cries of innocent children being slaughtered by nobles; even with my ears plugged, I could see the blood-soaked corpses.’

‘That is why I yearned for reform.’

She looked at the Queen before her.

‘Even if your path is drenched in blood, even if…’

‘Eh? Drenched in blood?’

Delores’s pupils contracted sharply.

‘Just moments ago, the nobles were laughing because the Queen helped those commoners. Why is it so quiet now? And what is this rain of blood falling from the sky?’

“Are you perhaps contemplating loyalty to the Queen, embarking on a path of no return, Delores?” A chilling voice echoed from behind her.

Delores turned her head.

Vina stood, sword in hand. The noble who had just spouted such arrogant nonsense lay dismembered, his body separated from his head, explaining the crimson rain that now fell everywhere.

“Disgusting. You are hardly worthy of fantasizing about my Ophelia.”

The surrounding nobles were utterly paralyzed by fear at this sight.

The royal sword was stained with blood, and her killing intent solidified into a palpable presence. Vina stood there, an ominous shadow that seemed to eclipse the sun.

“Delores, you merely need to follow my lead. You need not concern yourself with the Queen’s thoughts, nor are you fit to tread in her footsteps. Your allegiance is owed to me, not the Queen.”

“Understand this, Delores: I intend to isolate the Queen, for she cannot be *the* Queen. She can only be *my* Ophelia, uniquely mine.”

“If she is Ophelia for all the world, she will be constrained by the world and sacrifice her life for it. If she is my Ophelia, she will be constrained by me, and her life will be my possession. Why should I surrender the one I love to the world? Is that not right? For my love, I’ll gladly be a tyrant.”

“Therefore, Delores, remember this: I am the one who can truly influence your interests. Killing you would be as simple as crushing an ant, so you are forbidden from harboring such disrespectful thoughts.”

Delores found herself speechless.

The killing intent nearly crushed her.

Vina’s gaze pierced through her, settling on Ophelia’s kite—a white bird soaring freely in the sky.

“I despise this kite. Birds belong in cages. They should simply remain in their cages for my enjoyment. Why must they fly away?” Vina’s voice was as cold as ice.

She slowly began to walk forward, heading towards Ophelia.