My name is Valeria of the Waterlily Pond.
Today is the last day at the academy.
And I'm sitting alone in the school garden, waiting to be picked up.
Why I'm not standing at the front with the others?
Because I don't want to see those hypocritical little actors.
I'm "too much," they say.
Just because I speak my mind.
I look down at my reflection in the water.
Small.
Slender.
Pretty.
And without wanting to brag — I've got a proper figure. The boys here made sure I knew that often enough.
Compliments. Attention. Flirting…
Endlessly.
But the moment I pointed out even the smallest flaw, they ran off to the next girl who would sweet-talk them. As long as the rooster could keep puffing up his chest.
I had many friends.
Or at least, I thought I did.
But the moment one of them secured a "granary" — a rich, stupid man with a title — that was all that mattered anymore. And I got the cold shoulder.
In the end, even newly made nobles and poor barons dared to approach me.
As if I were some kind of consolation prize.
I stare into the water.
Yes.
I am pretty.
So why… why can't anyone handle even the smallest bit of honesty?
I was never cruel.
Never malicious.
If someone had bad breath, I didn't say:
"Your breath could kill livestock."
I just turned slightly away and said I didn't think things would work out between us.
Well…
I couldn't always hold back every comment.
When one boy was squinting particularly badly, I asked if he could actually see me when I stood right in front of him — or if I should walk around the corner.
And just because some rich brat had more money, suddenly everyone was chasing after him as if there were no tomorrow.
Does pride really disappear that quickly when money is involved?
I sigh.
As much as I get angry about it… that's just how things are.
I caused my family a lot of worry.
Until the very end, they thought I would find someone here.
Three months ago, on my birthday, they even threw a big celebration. Invited all kinds of young men. Tried to present me in the "right light."
What nonsense.
I'm only the daughter.
My older brother inherits everything.
And we're not poor. We don't need some grand dowry to survive.
I never wanted much.
Really.
He should appreciate me.
Listen to me.
Laugh sometimes when I make a comment that might be a little too direct. Or just take it in stride.
And otherwise… only have eyes for me.
Hello?
I'm a princess.
I'm allowed to want that.
And I won't let anyone talk me out of it.
Just because my great-aunt went mad at twenty-seven because she never found anyone.
But she was a real shrew.
I'm definitely not like that.
As Valeria's thoughts slowly settled, a voice called her name from the front gate.
Her coachman.
Of course.
She rolled her eyes.
Honestly, she would have liked to kick him right between the legs. She had specifically told him to pick her up last. So she wouldn't have to stand up front. Not among all those self-satisfied peacocks, now holding hands and gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.
Some of them, she would have gladly tied to the toilet for hours with the right herbal mixture.
Slowly, she made her way toward the carriage.
But as she came closer, she saw someone sitting inside.
Her grandfather.
She immediately calmed down.
And at the same time, her heart grew heavy.
At the gate stood the others.
Engaged couples.
Lovers.
Pairs saying their goodbyes or leaving together.
And her?
Daughter of a duke from the Birch Kingdom.
And still… alone.