It had been three months since the Sky Pirates were decisively routed by the Redgrave Family, but that historical footnote was the furthest thing from Stephanie Fou Offrey's mind.
The real, pressing issue was her own devastatingly downgraded circumstances. She was supposed to be living in her family's luxurious mansion in the capital, being spoiled by her servants and participating in the glittering gatherings of high nobility where she could properly flaunt her family's immense wealth.
But now?
Her reality was a waking nightmare.
Her father, with a dismissive finality that still stung, had suddenly informed her that she would be living in a backwater rural village, and she was strictly forbidden from leaving its pathetic boundaries until she came of age.
His reason for this exile? He didn't even bother to explain himself to a mere child.
He had simply shooed her away like a troublesome insect, offering only a final, cold reminder as she was packed off: "Remember who you are. You are, and always will be, an Offrey. Do not let yourself be replicated or assimilated by the bottom-feeders in that rural village. Maintain your elegance and, more importantly, your ruthlessness. That is the true mark of a noble."
The only thread of her former life that remained intact was her engagement to Brad Fou Field, one of the crown prince's close entourage.
If that had been severed, she truly didn't know what she would have done.
She understood the brutal calculus of the Offrey family all too well: if you possessed no value or use to them, you were ruthlessly discarded. Her current status was now profoundly vulnerable; being physically removed from the center of power, treated as a political hostage, and isolated in this flyspeck village was a precarious position that felt like a prelude to being utterly forgotten.
The one, minuscule silver lining was that here, she didn't have to endure the whispered insults and fake smiles of her so-called friends in the capital, who always talked behind her back about how her family's merchant origins made them unfit for true noble society.
Perhaps, she mused, this place could be made tolerable. Everyone here was weak, poor, and undoubtedly easy to bully.
Based on her keen observation of the nobles who surrounded her, the very essence of nobility was the right to bully others and exploit them for one's own benefit.
To that end, she needed to execute her plan quickly. She would establish her dominance, maintain her noble grace through intimidation, and make her family proud by demonstrating that even in exile, an Offrey knew how to command.
Spotting a frail young man looking at her with a dumb, doubtful expression, she immediately pointed a commanding finger at him. "Hey, you! Yes, you, the scrawny one. Stop gawking and make yourself useful. Go and help me bring this luggage to my house immediately."
She didn't care that he looked frail or that the bags were heavy. Let him struggle.
It was his good fortune, his purpose, to be granted the privilege of serving a noble like her.
The frail young man merely sighed, a flicker of resentment in his eyes that he was too weak to act upon, and shouldered her heavy baggage, nearly stumbling under the weight as he followed her orders.
Yet, this was only the beginning.
After a dissatisfying rest in the shabby dwelling that was now her home, she was confronted with a more pressing issue: she had no maids and, more critically, no money. Her solution was simple and direct.
She went out into the village and, by sheer force of will and the intimidating aura of her name, forcibly conscripted several young women and men to be her personal servants.
She ordered them to clean, cook, and attend to her every whim, offering them no wage because she simply had no money to pay them.
She saw no problem with this arrangement, enjoying their servitude as she leisurely ate the last of the fine cakes she had brought from home.
When her personal stock of cakes and breads was finally depleted, she took to humming and strolling through the village, her eyes scanning for new resources.
She soon spotted a group of children enjoying some simple candies.
Without a hint of hesitation, she strode over and snatched the sweets right from their small hands.
"From this day forward, this belongs to me," she declared, grinning with a wicked satisfaction.
The children, their treats stolen and their faces crumpling in shock and fear, screamed and ran for their lives.
"Argh! Monster!" they wailed, scrambling to find their mothers and report the terrible, candy-snatching noble who had invaded their peaceful village.
Thus, that was exactly how she spent her first week in this miserable village: systematically bullying any child, old man, or common person who had the misfortune of pissing her off.
She made bitter enemies out of nearly everyone, but they all dared not express their dissatisfaction openly, cowed by the invisible yet potent threat of her noble name.
This fragile, tyrannical peace held until the boy suddenly arrived on the scene.
He was a stark contrast to everything in the grimy village. He had sun-kissed blonde hair, piercingly clear blue eyes, a disarming sunny smile, and a classically handsome face that seemed carved for a royal portrait.
He moved with an innate grace as he warmly greeted all the villagers present, who looked upon him with clear relief and admiration.
Stephanie was stunned into a momentary silence.
What was someone who looked so graceful, so inherently noble, doing in a place like this?
Then, she was violently snapped back to reality the moment he ruthlessly struck the back of her hand with the flat of his wooden training sword.
A sharp, stinging pain shot up her arm.
She winced, clutching her injured hand. "What in the world do you think you are doing?"
"Are you the one bullying these villagers, young girl?" he asked, his voice firm and devoid of his earlier warmth. "Listen carefully. Even if your family is noble, that does not grant you the right to bully people or make their lives difficult and miserable. This holds true even if you are still a child yourself."
He made a deliberate gesture, raising the wooden sword slightly as if preparing to strike her again if her answer proved unsatisfying.
"You… you're bullying me!" Stephanie stammered, stepping back in genuine fear and covering her body defensively.
Then, her native arrogance flared up.
Her eyes narrowed, staring at him with fierce defiance. "So, what if I am? I am a noble, and you are all just a bunch of peas…"
Before she could even finish the insult, the boy slapped her across the face without a moment's hesitation.
The crack of the impact was sharp and humiliating.
Her cheek bloomed a hot, painful red from the mark of his hand.
She glared at him, her voice trembling with a mixture of pain and fury. "How d…"
He slapped her again, harder this time.
He continued this brutal, silencing punishment, striking her every time she tried to speak, until she was too exhausted and overwhelmed from the pain and shock to rebuke him any further.
Her world swam, and she ultimately fainted, collapsing limply into his arms.
When she later woke up or, more accurately, when her consciousness reluctantly regained its awareness, she kept her eyes closed, pretending to still be unconscious.
She overheard a quiet conversation nearby.
"Are you sure we will be fine, brother? She is a noble… You attacking her is…" a young girl's voice whispered, thick with concern.
However, the brother's reply was dismissive and cold. "Since the moment she was sent here, we were all bound to offend her. Our mere existence is offense enough to a spoiled young lady like her. Moreover, I see no reason to show mercy to someone who exploits the weak and tortures others for her own amusement."
He then turned his attention directly toward her, his tone shifting to a darkly humorous one. "Are you awake now, Stephanie Offrey? You don't look so good."
Her face darkened instantly.
Realizing the ruse was up, she stopped pretending to be asleep and shot up, pointing a trembling finger at him. "How dare y…"
Her words died in her throat the moment the boy's face turned fierce, his blue eyes glinting with a promise of further violence.
All her bravado evaporated.
She immediately cowered, pulling the blanket up to cover her body as she shrank back timidly on the cot.
"Please forgive me!" she begged, her voice a desperate squeak. "I will never do it again! Please, please don't hit me!"
The boy let out a sigh as he looked at her pitiful, frantic state. "I apologize if I came off harsh earlier. But if you stop your bullying and drop the menace act, I'll help you. I can teach you how to actually live on your own or help you integrate properly into the village."
"My father will kill me if I stop!" Stephanie screamed back, her voice bordering on hysterical as she completely rejected the very notion of integrating with the common rabble or giving up her one remaining source of power—intimidation.
In her mind, to stop bullying was to admit defeat, to become common herself, and that was a death sentence from her family.
Instead of arguing further, Arthur just smiled softly at her maddening appearance.
It was a calm, infuriatingly patient expression that somehow cut through her panic.
Her heartbeat actually stuttered for a moment as she truly looked at his sunny smile.
She had to internally admit, with a shock, that this boy's appearance and bearing outshone even the crown prince.
He was better in every way, more handsome, more confident, and with a raw, genuine grace that made him look like a true prince, the ideal one from storybooks.
Subconsciously, the question slipped from her lips, her voice barely a whisper. "Are you... a prince?"
"No," he replied, his grin turning leisurely and easy. "I'm just a boy. My name is Arthur."
He then gestured to the quiet girl standing slightly behind him. "And she..."
"She is my sister. Olivia," he finished.
Olivia offered a small, tentative nod.
"Welcome to our humble village, Stephanie Offrey," Arthur continued, his tone taking on a formal, almost ceremonial weight. "You can call this place 'Camelot'."
He paused, letting the name hang in the air before delivering his next line with unshakable confidence. "Because it is. And in the future, this place will belong to neither the kingdom, nor the Redgraves, nor the Offreys. It will be its own place."
Stephanie couldn't help but let out a sharp, derisive laugh at his utterly ridiculous statement.
The arrogance of it was both insane and, she had to admit, strangely captivating.
"Fine. I will choose to be entertained by your grand words, Arthur," she said, a calculating look returning to her eyes. "Very well, I will stop bullying the villagers. Since this place is clearly not within my father's direct surveillance, I can afford to... adjust my methods. But you have to promise me something in return. You, your sister, and every single one of those grubby villagers must swear never to speak a word of what happened here today of you striking me, of my... momentary compromise to my father. Ever."
Arthur brought his hand up in a crisp, formal salute. "You have our promise."
Olivia also raised her hand, her expression sincere. "Me too. I promise."
A slow, sly smile spread across Stephanie's face. "Fufufu... It's fixed, then. I will go along with your way for now."
She laughed, the sound a mix of genuine amusement and shrewd planning.
And so, with that conversation, the carefully laid plan of the Redgrave family was subtly undermined.
The hostile relationship and simmering resentment they had hoped to foster between the Offrey hostage and the village's promising boy, Arthur, never occurred.
Instead, hidden from the watching world, they formed a secret cooperation and a fragile, unexpected friendship that existed entirely outside of Vince Redgrave's cunning calculations.