chapter 23

More than a month had passed since the engagement was announced… And as the wedding day approached, a formal summons was sent to Irene by the king.

She entered the throne hall with her head lowered, not even wanting to glance at the monster who was once called her father.

In his cold voice—one that knew no mercy—he said:

"You now know what you have to do. As a spy. If you mess this up in any way... you'll pay with your life. Understood?"

She didn't answer. She only nodded silently, her chest rising and falling cautiously.

He continued:

"You'll board the ship headed to Valerian… alongside the Crown Prince, his wife, and the first queen. The wedding preparations will take place at the cathedral there, and the Queen Mother will handle everything—jewels, gowns, decorations—because, quite frankly, you know nothing of these things."

He then looked at her with clear disdain, as if her very sight offended him.

"I won't allow you to wear simple dresses like that first one you showed up in. You'll change your entire style. Richer clothes. Elegant jewelry. A presence that demands respect. This weak personality of yours won't get us anywhere."

Irene nodded again—she had no right to protest. But then, she lifted her head slightly and said in a soft voice:

"I have just one request."

The king paused for a moment, looked at her with deadly cold eyes, and said:

"What is it?"

She answered firmly:

"I want to take my maid with me. The one who raised me… Her name is Sally."

He considered her briefly, then replied curtly:

"Do it. You're dismissed."

She turned and walked away without looking back.

As soon as she entered her chambers, she sent for Sally.

Sally entered quickly, and the moment she saw Irene, she rushed to embrace her tightly, tears brimming in her eyes:

"Oh, my lady… I've missed you so much! I was so worried about you… Why have you lost so much weight? Didn't I tell you to take care of your health?"

Irene smiled faintly and said:

"I'm fine, don't worry. How is Fantine?"

Sally reassured her:

"She's well. She asks about you every day."

Irene gently took her hands and said:

"The king approved my request to take you with me to Valerian… as my personal maid. Would you accept?"

Sally gasped with joy:

"Me?! Of course! I'll go wherever you go, my lady."

Then Irene whispered:

"But I need your help with one more thing… I want to see Fantine before we leave. Ask her to meet me at our usual place."

Loyal as ever, Sally promised she would help.

And the next day, the meeting was arranged…

In the same place where Irene spent her childhood within the palace, she met Fantine, whose face she hadn't seen in a long time. They exchanged many words, and many more glances filled with longing and ache.

They spoke briefly about the wedding… and then Irene told her everything, holding nothing back.

The real reason behind the marriage. Valerian. The mission she was forced into. The plan she had been weaving silently in her heart.

She said:

"I'm going to use this marriage to our advantage. I'll gather evidence from the inside… and I will get my revenge. But I need you. If you're willing to help me, I'll send messages through Sally—under a different name each time."

Fantine didn't hesitate for even a second. She took Irene's hands and said with confidence:

"I'm with you… always. Send whatever you want. I'll be your eyes in the shadows."

Then she embraced her tightly for a long moment… and left.

---

A week passed.

On a bright morning, Irene was summoned to Queen Elvira's wing.

The room was overflowing with luxury: lavish boxes, exquisite jewelry, stunning gowns, rare fabrics, and colors that delighted the eye.

The queen pointed toward the table and said:

"All of this is for you… I picked it myself. Because I was ordered to."

Irene looked at everything with restrained amazement and replied softly:

"Thank you… Your Majesty."

Elvira chuckled coldly and said:

"I'm not doing this for you… but for the king—my husband. Don't misunderstand."

Irene bowed silently, accepted everything… and left.

---

Three days later…

The royal ship had been prepared, and the countdown to departure for Valerian had begun.

Irene spent her final days in the palace within her chamber, being prepared each day like a true princess.

Massage sessions. Luxurious creams. Rare perfumes. Gold facial masks. Every morning, Sally combed her hair with great care.

Her rare golden hair transformed into silky threads that shimmered under the light. Her skin became smoother, more radiant, and her beauty—already striking—became almost unlawful. Otherworldly.

Each day, her allure grew stronger. Each day, her presence became more powerful. Her silence… an aura of quiet sovereignty.

She was also receiving private lessons about marital relations, from the same instructor who had taught her older sisters-in-law.

---

And finally… the day of departure came.

Under a sky heavy with clouds, the royal carriages were prepared to head toward the harbor. Irene wore a luxurious gown chosen by the Queen Mother, and around her neck sparkled rare jewels that seemed to stare back at everyone who dared look her way. She felt… nothing. Frozen. As if her heart had ceased beating.

She shared the carriage with Queen Elvira, while Crown Prince Reinold and his wife Leora rode ahead in a separate carriage.

The moment the carriage doors closed… poison filled the air.

Queen Elvira, staring out the window with disinterest, said:

"I honestly don't know why I'm wasting my precious time accompanying a girl who doesn't even know how to walk like a princess."

She paused, then added with a mocking tone:

"But, as you see… royal orders are not to be questioned."

Irene didn't respond. She just sat in silence, eyes on the floor, turning the words over in her mind without letting anything show. Every word stung… but she no longer cared. Silence had become her only armor.

---

They reached the harbor after a long, tension-filled ride.

The royal ship awaited them. Reinold and Leora had arrived just before them and were welcomed with great ceremony.

As Irene stepped onto the ship for the first time, her steps were heavy… but steady.

The voyage began—four days at sea.

Cold days. Heavy with unspoken tension. Suppressed breaths and restrained expressions.

Her relationship with the Crown Prince was toxic—bordering on pure hatred. He resembled his father too much, and he didn't bother hiding his disgust. As if her presence alone polluted the air around him. He spoke to her only in clipped phrases, and sometimes simply addressed a servant, acting as if she wasn't there at all.

As for his wife, Leora, she took delight in insulting Irene in sly, calculated ways.

Each time they sat together, Leora would scan her from head to toe and say:

"Well… the Queen Mother saved you. Without her, you wouldn't even know the difference between gold and iron."

She would then laugh lightly, glancing at Reinold, who responded with a sarcastic smile and nothing more.

Irene didn't reply. She etched every word into her memory—one stone atop the other.

She wasn't there to be loved… but to play her game.

---

And every night, Irene would vomit violently from the motion sickness. Then she would sit silently in a corner of her cabin, while Sally brushed her hair gently, whispering soft prayers, as Irene's eyes stared out the window toward the endless sea.

She knew well… that everything that had happened so far was only the beginning.

And what awaited her in Valerian… would be far greater.