Summon the Modern Lady!

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The path to the garden house was lined with meticulously trimmed hedges and blooming flowers, a testament to the royal gardeners' dedication.

Birds chirped in the distance, their melodies blending with the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

It was the perfect backdrop for serenity.

But serenity was nowhere to be found at the moment.

"You have to sincerely have a talk with him, Amaranthe!" Cheska's voice rose, exasperation clear as she strode beside her companion.

Amaranthe, walking a step ahead, barely spared her a glance. Her pristine dress swished lightly with each step, her posture relaxed, her expression neutral. "I said no."

"Why not?" Cheska demanded, throwing her arms up.

She was dressed just as elegantly, though her flustered demeanor and quickened pace detracted from the grace of her attire. "You made a comment about their past that offended him. Do you want this to be awkward for everyone?"

Amaranthe didn't stop walking. "It won't be awkward for me."

"Amara, seriously!" Cheska grabbed at her arm but only succeeded in making herself stumble.

It had been a week and a half since then. Only Cheska was bothered, because of it the boundary between them naturally crumbled.

She huffed, regaining her balance. "He lost his fiancée! Don't you feel even a little bad?"

At that, Amaranthe's calm expression shifted, her expression darkened. "Even if I feel sorry, I just made a comment. And I already apologized."

She smirked faintly, tossing a sidelong glance at Cheska, as if amused by the editor's noise. "Should I?"

Cheska groaned, planting her face in her hands. "Are you just playing with me...?"

"Ah," Amaranthe mused, as if struck by a great realization. "I didn't know it was this fun being mean."

"Amara!" Cheska hissed, glaring at her companion, though the amused glint in Amaranthe's eyes made her feel as though she were scolding a particularly smug cat.

Behind them, Emette—walking with an air of quiet discomfort—cleared his throat. "Lady Amaranthe… Lady Cheska is right."

"See? Even Emette agrees!" Cheska jabbed a finger toward him as if presenting irrefutable evidence.

Amaranthe glanced back, a single brow arching. "Didn't I tell you to call me Amara? Only Miss Cheska can call me Amaranthe."

Emette was flustered, looking down with a sigh as he silently passed them.

"You demanded that to Emette? What's that even supposed to mean?" Cheska sputtered, a mix of shock and disbelief in her voice.

Amaranthe's smirk widened slightly as she turned back to the path. "It's favoritism for my number one fan?"

"You're impossible," Cheska muttered, shaking her head. She jogged a few steps to walk side-by-side again. "Listen. If you don't want to apologize for his sake, then do it for me! I will be the one stuck between you two when things get tense!"

Amaranthe slowed her pace slightly, her expression softening for the briefest moment. "For you?" she echoed thoughtfully.

"Yes!" Cheska said, hope blooming in her chest.

"Hmm." Amaranthe tilted her head as if seriously considering it. "No."

Cheska threw her hands in the air, letting out a loud groan that startled a nearby flock of birds. "You're the worst! The absolute worst!"

"Probably," Amaranthe replied serenely, unbothered, her smile only becoming brighter.

As the group approached the garden house, the sound of muffled laughter drifted toward them from within.

The rest of the royal family was already there, waiting.

Cheska slowed her pace, her earlier frustration replaced by a sense of impending doom. "Just—promise me you won't start anything."

"I don't start things," Amaranthe said coolly, adjusting the ribbon at her wrist.

"Oh, really? What about—"

"Shh." Amaranthe put a finger to her lips. "It's rude to bring up past grievances before lunch."

Cheska gave her a withering look but said nothing more as they stepped into the garden house.

The scene before them was picturesque: a long table adorned with fine linens, delicate porcelain, and vibrant flower arrangements.

The King and Queen— Villiam Sanz de Rudenheischt and Misha Ellen de Rudenheischt— sat at the head, their regal presences impossible to ignore.

Prince Kayer stood by his seat, his expression composed but his gaze lingering briefly on Amaranthe as she entered.

Amaranthe, of course, met his gaze with her usual calm indifference, dipping her head in a polite but minimal greeting.

Cheska sighed, muttering under her breath as they found their seats. "This is going to be a long lunch…"

Surprisingly, however, the lunch was peacefully. Though it was mainly because of the sight of a couple who drew most of the attention.

"Eat more," Ayessa de Ruchuster-Glandza, the princess, said firmly as she placed an extra portion of meat onto her husband's plate.

"It's fine, Es…" The husband— Emette Ruchuster-Glandza sighed, lowering his gaze.

"How can it be fine?" Ayessa frowned, her lilac eyes narrowing. "I saw your breakfast and it was one piece of bread with a cup of coffee!"

Emette's cheeks flushed under his wife's scolding, his discomfort deepening as he noticed his father-in-law's disapproving stare. Villiam glared at the criminal who took his daughter.

Cheska, seated nearby, watched the couple with an amused smile.

The interaction tugged at a memory, and her expression shifted into one of curiosity. Raising her head, she caught Prince Kayer's gaze.

"Is something on your mind, Lady Cheska?" he asked, his tone polite.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I wanted to ask... why do the royal family members have different last names?"

The Queen, Misha, answered with a serene smile. "Only the royal family's matriarch and patriarch bear the kingdom's name. It is both an honor and a burden, a symbol of the responsibility they carry to protect the kingdom's legacy and name."

Cheska nodded slowly, her gaze lingering on the royal family members, her thoughts swirling.

Their customs were foreign, but the weight they carried was unmistakable.

As the conversation shifted, Misha studied the young woman before her. 

During her lull moments, the head maid Lea would give reports about what the summoned ones were doing.

Amara Lee was reading the kingdom's history, lingering in recent event and even reading newspapers of gossips.

While Cheska Reyes was diligently visiting different parts of the castle and learning their customs. She even ate another luncheon with Ayessa while the other girl refused to come out of her room.

The queen continued eating and sighed internally, but everyone can be kind and polite.

Many women had everything to offer and yet Kayer refused.

Grieving is... understandable but it is something that can even consume one's lifetime. It's better to patch it early.

There was something refreshing about Cheska's candid nature after all, her willingness to explore and engage with their world.

Perhaps...

"Lady Cheska," Misha called out. Her voice was formal but soft as she asked, "Will you really marry my son?"

Cheska blinked, startled by the sudden question.

A faint flush crept up her cheeks, and she offered a shy smile. "I've spoken with Prince Kayer, Your Majesty. It's… impossible."

Misha's brows furrowed slightly in curiosity, though her expression remained kind. "May I ask why?"

Cheska's gaze softened, her expression turning wistful. "To shorten it... I already have someone in my heart," she admitted quietly. "And I'd like to keep it that way."

The table fell silent.

Misha observed her with a mix of admiration and regret, but before she could press further, King Villiam placed a hand over hers, a subtle but firm gesture.

"Resolute," Villiam said with a faint smile, his deep voice cutting through the quiet. "It's a fine trait to have, Lady Cheska. It would be nice to have another gentle soul in our family, but your heart speaks wisely."

Cheska bowed her head in thanks, relieved the subject was dropped.

Villiam turned his gaze to Amaranthe, who had been quietly sipping her tea, seemingly unaffected by the exchange. "And you, Lady Amara?" he asked, his tone carrying a note of curiosity. "Is there anything you desire? We will take responsibility for your comfort and ensure your needs are met."

Amaranthe set her cup down gracefully, her expression unreadable as she smiled politely.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. If it's not too bold of me, I'd like to request a place to live—apart from the castle."

The table tensed, the air thick with surprise.

Even Cheska turned to her companion, her mouth falling open slightly. Why didn't I think of that?

Villiam arched a brow, his lips quirking into a faint smile. "Apart from the castle?" 

Amaranthe nodded, her tone calm and deliberate.

"I believe it would be easier for me to adjust to this world if I had my own space. Somewhere I can grow without disrupting your family's routines."

Cheska, emboldened by Amaranthe's request, raised her hand hesitantly. "I… I'd like the same arrangement, Your Majesty," she added quickly. "A place where I can learn more about this world at my own pace."

Villiam sighed, though it was more amused than exasperated. "Very well," he said. "But I have a condition. You'll need to research the kind of land or location that suits you best. Submit your preferences, and I'll make the necessary arrangements."

He sounds like he's giving a thesis project, Cheska thought for a moment before exchanging glances with Amaranthe.

They were both grateful and intrigued by the opportunity.

As the atmosphere lightened, Villiam leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the table. "But before that, I'd like you both to attend an important event, the Banquet of Honors."

Cheska tilted her head. "The Banquet of Honors?"

"It is an event hosted by the Ruchusters," Villiam explained, his tone turning thoughtful. "It's dedicated to those who've made significant contributions to the kingdom's development—impressive individuals, alliances, and institutions alike. It was a tradition started long ago by the great scholar, Ianthe."

The mention of the name brought a shift in the room.

Conversations stilled, and even the usually composed Queen Misha seemed to tense slightly, her gaze dropping to her plate.

Villiam chuckled faintly, his eyes softening with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. "Ianthe... She was the best thing that ever happened to this world. But the world did not deserve her."

The weight of his words lingered, the somber tone casting a shadow over the table.

For a moment, the vibrant garden seemed quieter, as if even nature paused in reverence for the name that had been spoken. Eventually lunch ended.

"You've made a good request, Lady Amara." Ayessa complimented, following with Emette by her side. She also adjusted to the closed-off pink woman.

Amaranthe bowed her head, "Thank you, your highness."

"Oh right," Cheska grinned. "I thought Lord Emette would intervene with the request since he looks very upright."

Emette made an awkward chuckle.

"Him? Impossible," The princess stepped closer to Cheska, explaining for him. "When my father rejected Emette's proposal for me, he suggested eloping."

"Really? The upright-looking Lord Emette?"

"Yes. He is a successor of the richest dukedom but he was willing to throw it all away for love."

The ladies chuckled at Emette's embarrassed posture, even Amara who was silent made a small snort.

He cleared his throat, changing the topic. "Since you ladies will attend the Banquet of Honors, you need to find a new dress for it. Don't you think so, Es?"

With his reminder, Ayessa clapped her hand with a surprised look.

"Yes, let's go to Madam Aurora's boutique!"

With an exciting giggle, she dragged the two women ahead.