Later that night, Aerith crouched behind the kitchen building. She could not sleep.
"Why is it me who survived…" she murmured weakly, touching her own toes. "I even forgot to wear lip balm…"
From behind her came the rapid click of high-heeled shoes, accompanied by the familiar fragrance of rose perfume. Madam Gwen appeared, her face tense, her skirt swinging sharply with each stride. Without preamble, she gripped Aerith's shoulders so tightly that the girl staggered slightly, forcing her to stand upright.
Madam Gwen's eyes were sharp, piercing like daggers. She cast a quick glance left and right to make sure no ears were eavesdropping, then locked her gaze back on Aerith. "You have ruined everything, Aerith! What on earth did you do?"
Aerith swallowed hard, her fingers twisting the sides of her shabby skirt. She shook her head quickly, her eyes wide like a kitten caught stealing fish. "I did not do anything at all, Madam."
Madam Gwen leaned closer, her voice lowering yet growing all the more threatening. "Are you certain you did not bribe one of the judges, or something of the sort?"
Aerith's brows shot up as if the question were too absurd to be believed. "That would be the same as delivering my own head, Madam Gwen. Truly, I did nothing… except…" She lowered her head, her voice falling to a whisper. "…except give a foolish answer. That is all."
Gwenevere's grip tightened, her fingers pressing hard into Aerith's shoulders until the girl winced. "But you ranked third! How will you explain that to me?"
Aerith stepped back, then collapsed to her knees, raising her hands halfway as her face turned pleading and full of guilt. "Madam… what if I simply write a letter of withdrawal? Would that not have me eliminated at once?"
Gwenevere fell silent for a moment, her brow furrowing. She stepped back, then replied flatly, "That would be a wise choice. But the consequence is that you will face the executioner's blade for disgracing the King. Withdrawing from the concubine selection? That is equal to insulting His Majesty himself."
Instinctively, Aerith clamped both hands over her mouth, her eyes widening in horror. "I am far too young to die. Madam Gwen, what should I do? What must we do?" she whimpered, clutching her gown again and again until the fabric wrinkled in her trembling fingers.
Gwenevere massaged her temples. She had never expected that Aerith, who had performed so poorly, would end up ranked third out of twenty candidates. Because of that achievement, Aerith's sponsor, namely Gwen the maid, received rewards of gold and silver from the King. Yet even that failed to comfort her.
"This is only the first day. Perhaps King Lucien is amusing himself. But I am certain you will be eliminated soon," Gwenevere muttered, patting Aerith's shoulder. "If necessary, I will make you appear even worse in the second round. Do you object?"
Aerith shook her head.
***
The Second Day of the Concubine Selection
In the royal concubine selection, there were four stages to be carried out over the course of one month. This meant that once a week the selection would be held, and for the six days in between, the candidates were free to do as they pleased.
All the participants would fight desperately to use those six days to polish their image, hoping to impress and raise their scores. Some spent their time in the library, building the picture of cultured refinement. Others wandered through the palace with radiant smiles, scattering compliments on everything they saw, even a sheep that happened to stray from its pen.
Among the fifteen contestants who remained, only Aerith was nowhere to be found. She did not attend tea gatherings with the Ladies. She did not appear in the library, nor in the palace halls to sneak glances at the King.
That girl truly does not wish to become my concubine, yet she dares to register as a participant? King Lucien could not rest easy with such thoughts. His pride was unsettled.
In his room, he faced a stack of documents that required his review one by one. Yet since that morning, he had not completed even a single page.
His mind was consumed with questions. Why was Aerith nowhere to be seen? Why did she not try to attract his attention? And most importantly, why was there a woman who so openly showed that she did not desire him?
BAM!
Lucien's hand slammed against the desk before he realized it, scattering the documents across the floor. Tobias, his assistant, nearly jumped in shock at the King's unusual behavior. As he gathered the scattered papers, Tobias asked gently, "Is Your Majesty feeling unwell? I can escort you to rest and summon the royal physician."
Lucien massaged his temples and shook his head. He was in perfect health, yet irked that his mood could be so thoroughly unsettled by thoughts of a seemingly useless woman like Aerith.
"Tobias, arrange a tea banquet. Invite all remaining concubine candidates. This afternoon, at three o'clock, in the palace garden."
Tobias furrowed his brow. It was the very first time King Lucien had ever hosted a tea banquet and invited women. Until now, gossip claimed he had no interest in them. People believed that in Lucien's mind there was only war, war, and more war.
"A tea banquet, Your Majesty? And inviting the candidates?" Tobias asked hesitantly.
"Are your ears failing you?"
Tobias nearly choked on his own breath. He bowed his head quickly. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. A tea banquet, this afternoon at three, in the palace garden. I will ensure everything runs smoothly."
He withdrew and immediately sent out fifteen invitations to all the candidates. Before long, whispers of the tea banquet spread throughout the palace. Every servant hurried to prepare the finest arrangements, for this was the first time their King had ever invited the women.
"If the rumor that the King has no interest in women were ever true, it seems today will be the end of it," one maid whispered as she arranged lilies in a crystal vase. A shy smile curved her lips, betraying that she too was among the thousands secretly captivated by the King's allure.
"It must be Lady Venetia who has captured His Majesty's attention," another maid replied, bowing slightly as she fixed a ribbon to the flower arrangement. "Remember? She scored the highest in the first round."
The third maid, pouring water into a vase, shook her head quickly. "Ah, I think not Lady Venetia. I would wager it is Lady Mirabelle. Did you see her earlier? Such elegance… even her steps floated as if she glided."
While the servants busied themselves with the decorations, the Ladies were absorbed in preparing to dazzle at the small gathering with the King. Meanwhile, in her own chamber, Aerith prayed fervently that she would be assigned to sweep the storeroom or scrub the kitchen pans instead. Anything at all, so long as she would not have to attend the tea banquet.
But when a palace guard in gray livery appeared at her door, Aerith knew her hope was crushed.
"Lady Moonstone," the guard announced, "His Majesty requests your presence at this afternoon's tea banquet."
Aerith swallowed hard. With hesitation, she asked, "May I be excused from attending? It seems I… I am unwell."
The guard delivering the message stiffened. The rumor that Lady Aerith Montreux lacked proper manners appeared to be true, he thought.
"Unless Lady Aerith has grown weary of living, you can decline His Majesty's invitation!"