For the next few days, Evelyn stood silently, observing the progress of the work herself. Under her meticulous orders, the servants had cleaned every corner of the palace, from the kitchens to the guest rooms. It was as though every inch of the place had been revived, scrubbed clean, and refreshed.
The servants, puzzled by the sudden interest the princess had taken in the state of the palace, exchanged quiet whispers. What had caused such a shift in her behavior? Why was she now so insistent on the upkeep of the palace, a place she had once seemed indifferent to?
Evelyn, however, remained focused. She had instructed them to trim the dead roses and cut back the overgrown bushes that had blocked the pathways leading to the palace. But as they reached for the thorns, Evelyn stopped them. The servants paused, their hands hovering mid-air. Her voice, calm yet cutting, left a hush in its wake.
Evelyn: "Roses are beautiful, yet their thorns give them resilience. Without them, they'd be as defenseless as a cat without claws, a lion without its roar, or a snake without fangs. It's the balance of beauty and protection that allows them to thrive, reminding us that true strength often lies in what shields us. The thorns grant not only allure but the strength to endure in a world full of threats, making them even more captivating."
Under Evelyn's guidance, the once-overgrown garden bloomed with life, its thorns standing proud amidst carefully pruned beauty.
9 days later,
The once neglected and tangled space was now a beautiful, mysterious garden filled with black roses, their sharp thorns glistening under the sunlight. The garden had taken on an elegant, formal style, with symmetrical flower beds, neatly trimmed hedges, and a central pathway leading straight to the entrance of the palace.
The ground was covered in a soft carpet of dark, velvety petals, creating a stark contrast with the sharp thorns that seemed to guard the space with an air of silent authority. The roses, standing tall in their clusters, exuded an aura of strength, their deep black hue hinting at a hidden power beneath their delicate appearance.
The fragrance of the roses wafted through the air, a blend of subtle sweetness and earthy tones, mingling with a spicy, woody scent. The atmosphere felt alive with the refreshing aroma, an intoxicating mix that filled the senses, drawing visitors into the very heart of the palace's essence. Soft whispers of wind carried the fragrance further, weaving it into every corner of the palace grounds.
The air felt charged with magic, as though the garden itself had become a living testament to the strength and grace of the one it now adorned. It was now a palace worthy of its name—The Black Rose Palace, a place where beauty and danger intertwined in perfect harmony.
Inside Evelyn's chamber,
Evelyn stretched her arms and let out a soft sigh, her fingers digging into the plush comfort of the bed she had finally reclaimed. The soft rustling of the sheets echoed through the room as Cassy stood beside her, unwavering, awaiting instructions. Evelyn glanced at her, a tired but satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Evelyn: "Ah... I'm so tired. Callie, I'll be resting for a few days. I won't be seeing any visitors."
Cassy: "But all the work was done by the servants, Your Highness."
Evelyn, exhausted from the exertion of the past week, jumped onto her bed as though she hadn't rested in months. The weight of her responsibilities had finally taken its toll, and now she welcomed the comfort of the soft mattress.
Cassy sighed, a knowing expression crossing her face. She bowed her head and quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She understood that Evelyn would not be leaving her bed anytime soon. The princess needed this time to recharge, even if only for a few days.
Evelyn fell asleep instantly, her body sinking into the comfort of the bed, her muscles relaxing from the intense work she had put in. Her breath evened out, and the stillness of the room enveloped her. The rest of the day passed in peaceful silence as she slept undisturbed.
For the next few days, Evelyn didn't bother to leave her room, allowing herself to recover from the exhaustion that had plagued her for so long. But that peace was shattered in the dead of night, when something unusual happened.
In the quiet darkness,
A figure cloaked in black silently entered through her window. The assassin's movements were swift, careful, as he approached Evelyn's bed, a gleaming knife gripped tightly in his hand. The night was still, the only sound the rustle of fabric as the man drew nearer to his target.
However, just as he reached her bedside, a strange, glowing circle appeared on the ground beneath him. A pulse of soft light flared beneath his feet—a glowing rune etched into the ground. His eyes widened in confusion, a single breath escaping him before everything went black. Before he could even react, he collapsed, unconscious, his knife slipping from his grasp.
The next morning,
Evelyn awoke, stretching lazily as the first rays of the sun peeked through the curtains. Her fingers brushed through her tangled hair, and as her eyes adjusted to the light, she froze, noticing the unconscious man lying motionless on the floor. A chill ran through her, her cold, calculating gaze narrowing. Evelyn didn't even flinch. She simply stared down at the unconscious man.
For a few moments, she studied the man in silence, her expression hardening. She knew exactly who was behind this.
Evelyn (Thoughts): "...It must be the work of those nobles. Since I'm already aware of the bloody schemes and power struggles among the nobility... I was prepared for this, and now I've finally caught a rat."
Evelyn: "Garan... Garan..."
At her call, Gerald entered the room, bowing his head respectfully as he approached her.
Gerald: "Do you need anything, Your Highness?"
Evelyn: "Take this man and throw... I mean, hand him over to the Royal Guards."
Gerald glanced at the unconscious assassin with surprise, but he didn't ask questions. Without hesitation, he complied, lifting the man's limp form and carrying him off to the Royal Guards for interrogation.