Chapter 7: The Princess’s Gaze

“Is something troubling you, Angel?” Betty Lane asked softly, having discerned Lucia’s mood.

“No,” Lucia replied, shaking her head. Yet, the turmoil in her heart was impossible to conceal, clearly etched upon her face.

She had too many fears now.

First, she dreaded marriage, fearing she would be exposed on her very first day in this new world. Second, she worried her escape plan would be discovered, leading to her being tied up and exposed. Third, and perhaps most terrifying, she feared her identity as a transmigrator would be revealed, in which case she wouldn’t even need to be exposed—she’d simply be burned at the stake.

She yearned to slip away from everyone’s gaze and find the Dragon Blood Amber as quickly as possible. However, Betty Lane’s small hand firmly held hers, leaving her as helpless as a child led by an adult.

“Greetings, esteemed Angel.”

A slightly sharp female voice reached Lucia’s ears. Lucia turned her head, her gaze wary, towards the grand altar’s staircase.

A tall, elegant lady was ascending the steps, most of her body still below the horizon, with only her face visible to Lucia.

The woman possessed golden hair, adorned with a red and black ribbon tied into an exotic headpiece that resembled a butterfly.

Her hair was styled high, exposing her forehead, making her hairline appear somewhat unhealthy.

Her golden bangs were parted in a two-eight ratio; the two-tenths on the right formed a sweeping fringe that cascaded from her forehead to her collarbone. The remaining eight-tenths on the left were braided into a three-strand plait, coiled from her forehead to the low nape of her neck, then secured into a low ponytail with a black ribbon.

Despite the smile on her face, her scarlet eyes fixed on Lucia with a blatant, almost predatory aggression.

Her features were exquisite, and her skin was flawlessly fair—the kind of pampered complexion only those born to privilege possessed.

A black lace ribbon encircled the middle of her neck, beneath which metal jewelry adorned her collarbones and the exposed décolletage of her low-cut gown.

Her bosom was ample.

Her face was beautiful.

However, this woman gave Lucia an unsettling feeling. The way she looked at Lucia was akin to a hungry wolf observing a helpless lamb.

Lucia immediately grew wary of this newcomer. When she noticed a knight, clad in half-steel armor and half-formal attire, following behind the woman, a thought flashed through her mind: ‘Just as I expected.’

This woman was, at the very least, a princess.

Betty Lane bowed her head, revealing the woman’s identity.

“Guardian Knight Betty Lane extends her sincerest greetings to Your Royal Highness, Princess Delia Yass.”

Here, the term ‘princess’ was used broadly; the daughters of dukes and counts could be respectfully addressed as ‘princess’ or ‘noble lady.’ The specific title used varied dynamically based on their renown, status, and family power.

As the eldest daughter of the flourishing Yass Duchy, she was, without question, a Princess Royal.

Princess Delia Yass ignored Betty Lane, approaching Lucia and bending down to gaze at the petite girl. Her eyes narrowed, and a strange flush rose on her face, lending her an almost sickly appearance.

“After a year’s absence, I finally see you again. Though I am not privileged to behold your true face, merely seeing your magnificent, star-like eyes is enough to make me yearn for this day of our reunion.”

Lucia instinctively took a step back, creating distance between herself and the woman, a gesture that clearly conveyed her unfamiliarity.

Betty Lane intervened with a gentle smile. “The Angel is still young and might not recall the events of last year.”

“This is Her Royal Highness, Princess Delia Yass, the eldest daughter of Duke Yass.”

“Last year and the year before, Princess Delia Yass attended your Grand Sacrificial Ceremony.”

Lucia, realizing her own awkwardness, purposefully stepped forward, returning to her original spot, and nodded towards the princess.

Speaking a greeting was out of the question; only a simple nod could maintain her facade.

“Heh heh. It is an honor to meet you. I have not yet paid my respects to His Majesty the King, so I shall take my leave first. I eagerly await our next reunion, Your Grace. I believe it will not be long.”

Princess Delia Yass finished speaking to herself and departed with her knight.

Her arrival was inexplicable, and her departure equally so.

‘She probably just came to greet me out of some antiquated noble custom,’ Lucia thought. ‘After all, I appear to be just a little girl, but in reality, I am merely a puppet. How could a princess of the realm truly have anything to say to me?’

Lucia watched Princess Delia Yass walk away, only then recalling the ‘Yass’ surname.

This ‘Princess Yass’ was the daughter of the ‘Duke Yass who defied the royal family,’ a name she had overheard that morning. The ‘Yass’ family had demanded the Angel from the royal family, but the monarchy had procrastinated in giving her up.

‘No wonder Princess Yass looked at me with such aggression; she was coveting me all along,’ Lucia mused.

“Did the Angel forget Princess Yass?” Betty Lane inquired.

Lucia turned her head, looking around as if she hadn’t heard. Princess Delia Yass’s earlier disregard for Betty Lane had made Lucia aware of her own ‘superior’ privilege.

Even as a child, she had the right to ignore Betty Lane.

Adhering to the principle of ‘the less said, the fewer mistakes; say nothing, make no mistakes,’ she ignored Betty Lane and busied herself searching for the buried Dragon Blood Amber.

Her gaze settled on a flowerbed at the edge of the grand altar, where she spotted a cluster of pink flowers.

The Dragon Blood Amber was there!