The Princess' Harem
Chapter 164: Lady Agnes’s Confession

Chapter 164: Lady Agnes’s Confession

The other ladies stared at her, their faces edged with a mixture of disgust and curiosity. One wrong word from Viana, one hit of defensiveness, and she could lose the fragile ground she had gained.

She had to explain, clearly and concisely, the truth, without revealing too much, without sounding defiant. This was a dance of words, truly, a strategic maneuver.

"Indeed, Countess. My palace is filled with men, and women too, of my choosing." Her voice steady, clear, reaching every ear in the hushed room.

She paused, allowing her words to sink in, to resonate. Viana’s gaze swept over the gathered noblewomen, her expression earnest.

"Elysia, as you know, has faced trials of grievous challenges that demand swift, and also unconventional responses. The blight and the war—these events have made one truth abundantly clear. The kingdom needs capable people, which happens to be mostly men."

She continued, her voice gaining a quiet conviction. "The individuals who serve within my personal guard and advisory council, whether male or female, are chosen for one paramount reason: their skill. Many of them have proven their valor on the battlefield, or their wisdom in critical moments, defending against attacks, accompanying me in the darkest hours."

Viana allowed a brief, poignant pause, letting the image of desperate times settle in the minds of her listeners.

"In Elysia, we value strength, competence, and a keen devotion to duty above all else. When my life, and indeed the stability of my kingdom, hangs in the balance, I choose those most capable of defending it. They are my bulwark, my eyes and ears, and my most trusted companions in moments of great peril. Their presence reflects the practical necessities of our time, truly, not frivolous preference."

A new wave of murmurs rippled through the salon, but this time, the tone was different, less disbelief. Some of the ladies exchanged glances, a dawning understanding in their eyes.

The directness of Viana’s explanation, stripped of flowery excuses, seemed to resonate. It spoke of necessity, of a kingdom under siege, a princess, a sole heir to the crown, who chose pragmatism over petty courtly expectations.

Empress Isolde, who had been observing the exchange with a calm intensity, offered a slow, almost imperceptible nod. It was a clear signal to the other noblewomen, a quiet, powerful endorsement. Meanwhile Rayne, watching from the doorway, allowed himself a faint, almost invisible smile.

Lady Agnes, however, her face a mask of polite interest, could not quite conceal the subtle tightening of her jaw, the brief, sharp flash of frustration in her eyes. The Princess of Elysia, it seemed, was far more resilient than she had anticipated.

Her effort to ditch Viana didn’t stop until that time. One bright, crisp morning, a grand gathering was held at the Imperial stables, a horseback riding event that brought together many of the high-ranking noble ladies and gentlemen.

The air hummed with the soft snorts of magnificent, impeccably groomed horses, the cheerful jingle of polished bridles, and the animated chatter of the nobility, their voices light and carefree.

Viana, dressed in a practical yet elegantly tailored, found herself seated comfortably atop a spirited, well-mannered mare provided by the palace. She rode gracefully, her posture impeccable, her eyes scanning the sprawling, manicured grounds, truly observing the riders, the landscape, and the subtle interactions around her.

Nearby, Crown Prince Rayne sat astride a powerful, snow-white Stallion he obtained with Viana, not long after she regressed. He looked every inch the imperial heir, his posture commanding, yet relaxed, a picture of effortless authority.

He met Viana’s gaze from across the bustling stable yard, offering a smile, reassuring smile. Their eyes held for a brief moment, a quiet connection amidst the hubbub.

Then, the groups began to separate, as was custom for these riders—the gentlemen would take a more challenging, winding path, while the ladies followed a gentler, more scenic route, both converging at a predetermined destination.

With a final, shared glance, Rayne and Viana parted ways, the white stallion moving swiftly to join the thundering hooves of the male riders.

The ladies’ party moved at a leisurely pace at first, a long, elegant procession winding through picturesque trails, past oak trees, their branches reaching like gnarled fingers, and tranquil streams that babbled softly over smooth stones.

Viana rode amongst the others, conversing politely with a young Baroness about the merits of Valendale’s cavalry when she felt a distinct presence draw close on her left.

It was Lady Agnes. She pulled her horse back slightly, subtly dropping behind the main group, her expression now carefully constructed to convey a deep, profound distress, her eyes a little too bright, a little too wide.

"Princess Viana, may I have a word with you? Perhaps we can ride a little slower, if you don’t mind. I... I find myself quite overcome today," she requested, her voice soft, almost trembling, a fragile sound that struggled to be heard amidst the distant hoofbeats of the main party.

Viana, ever cautious, a prickle of wariness already surfacing, nodded subtly.

"Of course, Lady Agnes. Take your time. We are in no hurry."

She reined in her mare, a gentle tug on the reins, allowing their horses to fall back, the gap widening between them and the careful, oblivious sounds of the main party, now just a cluster of moving colors in the distance.

Agnes produced a lace handkerchief from her riding pouch, dabbing delicately at the corners of her eyes, though Viana, with her sharp, observant gaze, noticed her eyes were surprisingly dry, devoid of genuine tears

She began, her voice a low, fragile murmur, barely above a whisper, yet infused with a dramatic weight.

"You cannot imagine, Princess, what this... news of Prince Rayne’s engagement has done to my life. My family, they were so certain, so incredibly, utterly convinced. My destiny, it was laid out, meticulously planned for years, since my childhood, you see. And now, it has simply... crumbled. Like dust, Princess, like the finest dust scattered by the wind.