The Maid of the Cursed Princess

It had been too long since she last had a restful morning.

Ever since being cursed and imprisoned in the High Tower, Sibylla’s mornings were never free from fatigue.

No matter how she tried to grow accustomed, the unrelenting agony of her rotting body was simply unbearable.

Oscillating between tormented wakefulness and fitful slumber, eventually succumbing to sheer exhaustion as she dozed off in a state neither fully awake nor asleep – that was what constituted a good night’s sleep for Sibylla.

“…Hwaam…”

Yet for some inexplicable reason, this time was different.

After a very long time, Sibylla could feel the refreshing sensation of waking up in the morning.

What could have caused this? It wasn’t due to the curse being lifted, nor any drastic changes in her environment.

Of course, the poorly maintained High Tower differed vastly in quality compared to the capital’s sole remaining palace, an unfair comparison, but such differences were trivial to Sibylla.

“…Ah.”

As she rubbed her eyes and surveyed her surroundings, Sibylla soon realized the cause behind her restful slumber.

“…Dorothy…?”

Lying by Sibylla’s side on the same bed, the maid slumbered so soundly she might not awaken even if carried elsewhere.

The most significant change to Sibylla’s sleeping environment was the presence of Dorothy sharing her bed.

“…Why?”

Still not fully awake, Sibylla pondered why Dorothy was sleeping in her bed.

Unless the master had impurely coerced the maid into bedding her by asserting their hierarchical relationship, it was highly unusual for a master and servant to share the same bed.

“…!!!”

‘Unless coercing the maid into bedding her by asserting their hierarchical relationship-‘

“Oh… Oh no…”

Sibylla now recalled her shameful conduct from the previous night.

Dismissively kicking Dorothy out until sunset simply for conversing with her brother, only to fall for Dorothy’s affectionate promises after she had barged back in, even lying to demand they sleep together.

An impure master harboring indecent desires – that had been Sibylla’s behavior, capriciously ordering her maid about at her whim before invoking her authority as master to command they share the same bed.

“I’ve lost my mind…!!!”

Unable to cry out or thrash about lest she wake Dorothy, Sibylla could only clench the bedsheets tightly as she buried her face, swallowing her words.

Just what had she been thinking…?!

Muffled screams, trembling from the self-loathing and shame directed inward, that was all the wretched Sibylla could manage at present.

“Haa… Haa…”

Her heart starting to pound like it might burst at any moment, Sibylla barely kept her composure as she gazed at the soundly sleeping Dorothy by her side.

With her hair completely undone instead of its usual messy bun, wearing loose sleepwear rather than a maid’s uniform.

“…Ugh…”

Her defenseless sleeping face, her slovenly attire, made Sibylla’s already racing heart palpitate even more intensely, feverish heat rushing through her entire body beyond just her face and chest.

“Nnn… Ughh…”

Before her entirely unchecked heart, all Sibylla could do was squeeze her eyes shut, grit her teeth, and struggle not to think about it.

And so until Dorothy finally awoke, Sibylla remained doubled over clutching her chest, silently stifling her groans.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Princess. For your servant to awaken after you…”

“No… it’s alright. It is I who sleeps little, not you acting strangely, so don’t trouble yourself…”

“…?”

Noting Sibylla’s rather fatigued appearance, Dorothy expressed her puzzlement. Had she not slept well?

Well, for someone accustomed to sleeping alone, suddenly sharing a bed with someone else, a servant no less, would understandably be difficult, Dorothy thought. Though as someone who had simply followed orders, she did feel slightly hard done by.

“…Hmm, for today’s schedule…”

After changing clothes and tying her hair, as Dorothy moved to comb Sibylla’s hair while explaining the day’s itinerary, she stopped herself – for she was unfamiliar with the palace’s schedule.

“…Umm…”

“There is no need to force yourself to pretend you know. One of the servants will undoubtedly arrive to guide us in any case.”

True to Sibylla’s words, a knock soon came at the door.

“Princess Sibylla, may I enter?”

“Enter.”

Upon Sibylla’s permission, the maid who entered curtsied before speaking to her:

“There is to be a royal family breakfast soon. His Majesty the King has requested the Princess’s attendance as well.”

“I doubt that was from Father, more likely it was Brother Charles’s request. No, Brother Louis is the more probable source.”

Despite her cynical reply, the maid simply waited in silence for Sibylla to finish preparing herself.

“Leave us. I shall attend on my own. One maid to attend me is sufficient.”

“Yes, I shall inform them as such.”

“…Tsk.”

Sibylla clicked her tongue as the maid swiftly departed upon receiving her orders.

“The palace servants are entirely displeasing. They think they conceal their true feelings perfectly.”

“Must you really attend? Wouldn’t it be better to have someone bring the food to your room instead…”

“No, I must go.”

Though Dorothy’s suggestion was tempting, Sibylla couldn’t accept it.

“Legitimacy and decorum are paramount to the royals and nobles. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have summoned a cursed royal from exile under the pretense of tradition.”

Truth be told, barring a miraculous cure, Sibylla had no intentions of coming to Hyperion.

It was that damned insistence on procedures and traditions that had compelled her summons against her will.

“I must indulge them, lest it endanger your life rather than mine.”

“…My life, you say?”

“You are unaware?”

To Dorothy’s question, Sibylla answered in a relatively kind tone:

“When it’s difficult to directly punish someone, the most common method is to place the burden of responsibility on their subordinates.”

In other words, if Sibylla were to commit some transgression, Dorothy would be the one to bear responsibility.

“Let’s depart once you are ready.”

Calling out to the briefly stunned Dorothy upon hearing such unfairness, Sibylla rose from her seat.

“It has been too long since I last enjoyed a good meal with my family.”

* * *

The venue for the breakfast was prepared on the floor directly below.

Not having invited any special guests, it was a private setting solely for the current King and Queen along with their three children.

For just five people, the dining table seemed excessively large to Dorothy’s eyes. The sheer variety of dishes was equally excessive.

“It has been too long. Father, Mother, I trust you have been well?”

Upon taking her seat, Sibylla offered a simple greeting to her parents, the current King and Queen who had arrived earlier.

“…Yes, Sibylla. I hope you have been doing well too.”

“…”

The Queen responded tersely, while the King didn’t even extend that much.

Yet from the shadows, Dorothy silently observed them both, who didn’t seem particularly admirable parents.

The King’s eyes were hollow like a corpse’s, lending credence to the rumor that he had gone insane after his daughter was cursed.

Gone was any trace of the benevolent, wise, and dignified air he once possessed – only a withered, decrepit husk remained. His hair had largely fallen out, his vacant gaze fixed on the empty air, mouth agape like a vegetable.

Compared to the broken King, the Queen showed some signs of aging like wrinkles, likely from the ordeals she had endured, but appeared relatively unscathed overall.

The peerless beauty she had once been lauded for hadn’t completely faded, leaving her with the haughty air of a disgraced noblewoman. At least her mind seemed intact.

In other words, unlike the King who had lost his sanity after their daughter was cursed, the Queen was of sound mind when she abandoned her child.

“It has been too long since I last saw you as well, Brother Louis.”

“Yes, it has been a while, Sibylla. I’m relieved to see you have found reliable company.”

Prince Louis, who had spoken, glanced at Dorothy with a smile before giving a small wave.

“…Ahem.”

Sibylla seemed quite displeased by her brother’s demeanor, but soon after-

“Where is Brother Charles?”

She inquired about the Crown Prince, her eldest brother who hadn’t yet arrived.

“Ah, about Brother…”

At that moment, the banquet hall doors swung open. And upon seeing who emerged, Dorothy was…

“…!!!”

Utterly shocked.

“My apologies, I was caught up with work.”

Unlike the Second Prince whose younger self she had witnessed, this was Dorothy’s first time seeing the Crown Prince in person.

Yet she could instantly sense his true nature.

Cropped hair, unkempt stubble as if he hadn’t properly shaved.

Taller than even Prince Louis or the King, with dark circles heavily shadowing his eyes.

“No one has touched the food yet, have they? You could have started without me.”

At a glance he appeared bedraggled, wearied beyond his years like some vulgar drunkard, yet when Dorothy met his gaze she realized.

A ruthlessly calculating, emotionally detached sociopath who perceived everything in the world besides himself as mere objects.

“Then.”

The Crown Prince of Orléans, Charles Théodone François d’Orléans.

“Let’s begin.”

Was one of her kind.