The candy wrapped in handkerchief

Esther turned slowly.

Standing a few steps away was a young employee, arms crossed, nose wrinkled in contempt. One by one, the others emerged, peeking from behind shelves and counters, eyes flickering with both curiosity and caution. One elder employee silently slipped behind a door.

Then came the voice shrill, scornful, laced with venom.

"This boutique isn't for penniless vagrants. Get out. Ugh, that horrible dress... did you crawl out of a trash heap? Who even let you near our silks? We serve nobles, not beggars."

Esther's eyes dropped for a brief moment.

She wore a lilac mermaid gown: simple, modest in cut, the fabric soft but unadorned. No embroidery, no gemstones, no extravagant lace. Her hair was pinned with a plain silver clip, dull with age. A dress worn without shame until now.

And yet, she raised her head. Her voice was quiet. Steady.

"I am not some beggar. I am Princess Esther—"

The employee let out a laugh sharp and cruel.

"Oh, please! What a joke! You? The cursed princess? The one everyone forgot? Locked up like some plague-carrier?"

Her words oozed mockery.

"They say she is so ugly, they had to hide her inside the palace. Don't insult our boutique by pretending to be that disgrace."

She waved a manicured hand.

"Get. Lost."

A shift passed through the air. Esther said nothing. She merely stared.

Her calm gaze turned frigid like ice glazing over a still lake. Her lips were pressed into a quiet line. No rage. No trembling. But a suffocating pressure seeped from her stillness. The kind of silence that cracked bones.

The woman's sneer faltered. Laughter choked off mid-breath.

Then,

SLAP.

The sharp sound rang across the marble floor like a blade cleaving through porcelain. The employee froze, stunned. Her cheek reddened with a blooming handprint. The next second, she screeched, livid—

"HOW DARE YOU SLAP ME? I WILL—"

A woman entered from the door where one of the employee disappeared.

She had light sage-green hair, braided and pinned in a graceful purple clip. Her emerald green eyes were soft in hue but sharp in clarity like spring leaves dappled with morning frost. Her ivory dress was simple, yet elegantly tailored, with delicate threadwork tracing the hem. She walked with a quiet poise that drew the eye, neither arrogant nor shy, but noble in bearing, like a lily growing from snow.

Even her silence demanded authority. The staff instantly bowed.

"L-Lady Ava! When did you arrive?" the rude employee stammered. "My deepest apologies, I didn't notice. I was just teaching this customer a lesson. But she suddenly slapped me!"

Her tone, now polite and trembling, was a complete contrast. Esther folded her arms, a sardonic smile tugging at her lips.

"So you do know how to speak politely?"

Ava stepped forward, stopping before Esther. Her voice was gentle, but laced with control. "I apologize, my lady. Please, calm yourself. I'd like to hear your side of the story first."

She extended a hand with sincerity.

"I am Ava Frost, of the Frost family. I manage this boutique on behalf of my mother, the founder. May I know what has happened here?"

Esther observed her carefully.

Ava Frost.

The name echoed in her memory.

Daughter of Marquess Alaric Frost and Marchioness Eve Frost, rulers of the border territory Verdelune—a land of emerald forests and frigid winds. Her parents were respected figures, known for their skill in governance and fairness. Her own parents had once spoken well of the Frosts, along with the noble Duke's house as pillars of integrity.

And now, their daughter stood before her, a picture of grace and ability. Not only the heir to the march, but also the future mistress of this thriving business.

A flicker of envy touched Esther's heart. How perfect she seemed.

Yet… her face felt oddly familiar.

Had she seen her before? Or perhaps her resemblance to her noble parents lingered?

Esther's voice was calm but icy.

"Your employee was quick to judge and quicker to humiliate. Is this what you teach them? To insult guests without question? I understand this boutique serves nobles and merchants. But does that give you the right to mock the poor?"

She met Ava's eyes without fear.

"Mocking poverty is not class. It is cruelty."

Ava clenched her fists at her sides. Then, with composure, she placed a hand over her chest and bowed respectfully. "My sincerest apologies for this disgrace, my lady. I did not expect such conduct from one of my staff. The fault lies with me for having allowed such an employee to remain here. Your disappointment is entirely justified."

She straightened and turned to the trembling employee. Her eyes, once calm, now burned with icy authority. "You insulted a customer. This boutique is known not only for its quality but for the respect we offer to all who enter. You've violated that principle."

Her tone sharpened. "You are dismissed. Effective immediately."

The employee dropped to her knees, sobbing. "Please, Lady Ava! I didn't mean to....I thought she was...! Please don't.."

Her pleas went unanswered. Ava signaled the head of staff, and within moments, two guards in boutique uniform appeared. They escorted the woman out as she whimpered apologies that no one acknowledged.

Once the tension faded, Ava exhaled softly, regaining her composure. She turned back to Esther with a graceful smile. "Allow me to personally assist you in selecting gowns. It's the least I can do to make amends."

Esther nodded curtly but said nothing. Her expression was unreadable.

After the earlier commotion was settled, Ava personally took it upon herself to assist Esther in selecting gowns. As an apology for the mistake, she offered Esther an exclusive piece from her newest collection, one that hadn't even been released to the public yet.

Ava, a designer of notable talent and keen aesthetic sense, studied Esther with a thoughtful gaze, her hands lightly brushing through the fabrics like they were living things. With practiced intuition, she suggested designs that would best flatter Esther's frame and aura. Esther tried on a few, then selected additional options from the catalogue. What surprised her even more than Ava's skill was the woman's sharp understanding of current imperial fashion trends.

"Some of the gowns will arrive by tomorrow," Ava said while rolling a bolt of silk. "A few require adjustments or final touches, so they'll take up to six days. The accessories and cosmetics will also be delivered within a day. May I know the delivery address and how you plan to settle the payment?"

"Send everything to the Royal Palace," Esther replied evenly. "Charge it to Emperor Oliver and Empress Maria. They'll cover the full cost."

Ava paused mid-motion and turned to her, eyes widening with dawning realization.

"Are you…" her voice softened, "…are you truly the Second Princess? Princess Esther De Geire?"

"I am," Esther replied calmly, though her brows drew together. "Do we know each other?"

"I thought so," Ava said, smiling wistfully. "Now I understand why you looked familiar. How could I forget those eyes? Like the night sky lit with stars."

Esther tilted her head, curious.

"Oh… Do you remember, perhaps when we were seven? We met in the royal garden," Ava said softly, eyes glinting with the light of old memories. "You had scraped your knee, and I found you sitting by the lilies, crying. I washed your wound with water from the fountain and tied my handkerchief around it. You were sobbing so hard that I gave you my favorite candy to cheer you up. You looked up with those big, starry eyes and said thank you. I was stunned, honestly. I never forgot that."

Esther's gaze remained still, as if listening to a distant echo of the past.

"The next time we met… it was on your thirteenth birthday. I came to the palace with my parents, they had business with the Emperor. I remembered your birthday and brought you a gift." Ava's smile turned faint. "But I never got to give it to you. The maids told me you were studying, so I handed it to Princess Suzy instead. She later said you didn't like it… that you threw it away. I always wondered if it was too plain, or not to your taste."

Esther's heart quietly twisted.

She did remember the garden, the scent of lilies, the cold sting of water on her skin, and a soft, warm voice. She had long buried that day beneath years of silence and punishment.

Esther froze.

The warmth from before vanished. Her heart clenched, a hollow cold settling in its place.

Threw it away?

She had received no gift. No visitor. No mention.

Her mind reeled, pieces snapping into place. So many unanswered silences, so many things that never reached her hands. Was this another one? Another moment Suzy took? A friendship that never bloomed… because of a lie?

Her voice dropped. "I never received any gift. And I certainly never threw one away."

Ava blinked. "You didn't? But… Princess Suzy said... oh…"

Esther looked away, jaw tightening. She tried to push down the bitter taste rising in her throat.

"No. I never even knew you had come."

"I'm so sorry…" Ava murmured. "I often came to the palace with my mother for Crown Princess Sierra's fittings… and for Princess Suzy. Sometimes, they visited the boutique too, but you never came. Once, I asked the Empress if you'd be joining us. She said you were busy studying… and they'd choose dresses for you later. But they never did. I never saw you again, never got to ask you myself. I thought… maybe you didn't want to see me."

Esther gave a weak smile. "That wasn't my choice."

There was a pause. Then Ava stepped forward, cautious but sincere.

"Your Highness… I know you've stopped attending noble parties and royal balls…" She hesitated, then placed a hand gently over her chest. "Would you do me the honor of joining me for a private tea gathering? Just us. I would treasure the opportunity to speak again."

Esther looked at her. A girl who remembered, who cared, even when no one else did. It was strange, and warming.

"I'll come," she said softly.

Ava lit up. "Thank you. I'll send an official letter to the palace. A formal invitation under House Frost's seal."

Esther nodded. "I'll await it."

Esther returned a small nod and stepped out of the boutique, not with anger, but with something unfamiliar. A flicker of hope.