I opened the wardrobe.
Before me, several pieces of clothing hung in a neat row. A light blue gown with delicate embroidery along the edges of its sleeves. A simple white top that fit my frame. A dark skirt with clean stitching. A thin cloak for cold weather.
All new. All mine.
Not hand-me-downs from my older sister, taken in to fit. Not a gown that had been resewn three times until the thread was nearly worn through. Not clothes given to me with a look that said "just take them, I do not wear them anymore."
Mine.
My fingers touched the fabric of the light blue gown. Smooth. Cool. Perfect. Perhaps for most people, these were just clothes. Something they bought without thinking twice. But for me, opening a wardrobe and seeing a row of clothes that I had chosen myself, bought for me without conditions, was a luxury I had never experienced in eighteen years of life.
Perhaps that sounds excessive.
Perhaps it is excessive.
But I did not care.
Once, I had believed that all of this would come after I married His Highness the Prince. Becoming queen meant having rights I had never possessed as a mixed-blood child. Jewels. Clothes. As much food as I wanted. Recognition. That was what I assumed awaited me at the end of the road I had spent years building.
And so I kept trying. Studying without end. Training without rest. Proving that I was worthy of it all.
But now I knew.
I did not need to become a queen to have any of that. I only needed to be free. Free from a family name that never wanted me. Free from an engagement that turned out to be nothing but an illusion. Free from a world that had decided my role before I ever had the chance to open my mouth.
That freedom came in the most unexpected way.
Through a commoner who produced gold coins without hesitation.
Of course I was afraid when I first followed Sir Raymond that night. I had just lost everything. My title, my engagement, my future. And the only thing that remained was the back of a man walking ahead of me toward a house in the middle of a forest.
Was my choice the right one?
That question haunted me during those first few days. Sir Raymond told me I did not need to repay anything. He told me I was not his prisoner. He told me I could leave whenever I wished.
It would be a lie to say I never thought about my freedom.
There were several times I wanted to leave. Standing in front of the door of this house at midnight, staring at the path that disappeared among the trees, wondering whether I could start everything over on my own. Without anyone. Without the weight of debt. Without having to feel that my presence in this house was something I needed to pay for.
But every time that thought surfaced, one reality always pulled me back.
I owed him my life.
Not because Sir Raymond had ever reminded me of that. He never did. Not once. It was precisely the absence of any demand that made the debt feel even heavier. Someone who saves your life and then asks for nothing in return, how do you walk away from a person like that?
And if I was being honest with myself...
I did not want to leave.
This house, despite its small size, felt more like a home than the Silvercrown mansion where I had lived for eighteen years. Here, there were no whispers in the corridors. No looks of disgust as I walked through a room. No secondhand gowns waiting on my bed each morning.
There was only a small library I could read from as I pleased. A quiet garden where I could practice magic without being judged. And a man who ate my cooking every morning without complaint, even when I knew it tasted awful.
"Are you still long?"
Raymond's voice from downstairs. Not loud. Just a call. But enough to make me realize I had been standing in front of the wardrobe for far too long, lost in thoughts that should not have taken this much time.
"Sorry, I will be right there," I answered.
I took the simple white top and the dark skirt, changed quickly, then tidied my hair in front of the small mirror in the corner of the room. That mirror was also new. Raymond had placed it in the guest room without saying a word, as though a mirror in a woman's room was simply something that should be there.
It was small things like that which made me unable to understand this person.
I went downstairs. Raymond was already standing near the door, dressed in the same plain clothes as always. Nothing excessive. Nothing eye-catching. If not for the small silver button on his collar, he would have looked no different from any ordinary commoner.
But I already knew that this man's appearance was the greatest lie I had ever seen.
"Let us go," he said, opening the door.
I nodded and followed him out.
We walked along the path that cut through the forest toward the capital. The morning air felt fresh, the scent of damp earth and leaves filling every breath. Sunlight pierced through gaps in the tree canopy, creating shifting patterns of light and shadow on the ground beneath our feet.
We walked side by side. Not too close. Not too far. The same distance as the days before. Yet for some reason, today that distance felt slightly more comfortable.
There was no conversation. Only the sound of footsteps on earth and dry leaves. But the silence was not an awkward one. It was more like the silence of two people who had begun to grow accustomed to each other's presence.
After some time walking, the gates of the capital came into view in the distance. The stone buildings of Ulbert rose behind the city walls, adorned with royal banners fluttering from every tower. The bustle of the morning market could already be faintly heard even before we passed through the gate.
We stopped in front of the city gate.
We had just passed through the gate when Raymond suddenly halted his steps.
"Ah, before we part ways," he said, reaching into the pocket beneath his clothing. "Take this."
He produced a number of coins and held them out to me. Not gold coins. Silver and copper, an amount that was generous enough for a day's spending but not excessive.
Did he want me to pick something up for him? Perhaps he wanted me to buy something at the market on his behalf.
"What is all this for?" I asked.
"For you, of course," he answered lightly. "For shopping, or in case something urgent comes up."
My reflex kicked in before my brain had a chance to process.
"No," I said quickly. "I cannot accept your help again."
The words came out automatically. Like a wall I had built for so long that it appeared without needing to be summoned. I had already received too much from this person. Clothes. Food. A place to live. Every day, my debt grew larger, and every day, the guilt in my chest grew heavier.
But Raymond did not look offended. He did not even lower his hand.
"Hm?" he said, tilting his head slightly to one side. "You misunderstand. I am not giving this for free."
I looked at him.
"You have been cleaning my house every day," he continued, his tone calm as though he were explaining the most natural thing in the world. "Cooking meals. Watering the plants in my garden. This is simply your wages."
Wages.
The word sounded strange in my ears. Not because I did not understand its meaning, but because it had never occurred to me that the small things I had been doing over the past week could be considered work.
I cleaned his house because I could not sit still without doing something. I cooked because I wanted to give something back, however small. I watered his plants because, honestly, the garden was the one place in this house that made me feel at peace in the morning.
It was not work. Just things I did because I wanted to.
Yet this man had spun it into a reason for me to accept his money without feeling indebted. Once again, he was helping me in a way that left me unable to refuse.
"Besides," he added, "the gold coins I spent on the night of the ceremony have already been returned by the king. So you do not need to worry about that."
I fell silent.
He was right. The king himself had returned the money. Technically, Raymond had not lost a single coin because of that night. And the money he was offering now, if it truly was considered wages for my work, was not charity.
But still.
I stood there for several seconds, staring at the coins in his hand. My mind warred between the pride that told me to refuse and the common sense that said if I kept refusing like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, I would only look like someone who did not appreciate his kindness.
In the end, I extended my hand and accepted the coins.
The weight of metal in my palm felt foreign. It had been a very long time since I last held money that was my own.
"Thank you," I murmured softly.
Raymond nodded, then slipped his hand back into his pocket.
"Right, we part ways here," he said. "I need to visit a friend first for a small matter. Be careful."
I gave a small nod. He began to turn and walk toward the main street. His figure gradually blended into the morning crowd of the capital, his plain clothing making him indistinguishable from any other commoner.
But after only a few steps, he stopped and looked back.
"Ah, almost forgot," he said. "Will your errand take long?"
"It should not take too long," I replied.
"In that case, let us meet again at the city park before sundown. You know the place?"
The city park. An open space in the center of Ulbert with a large stone fountain at its heart. I had passed through it a few times during my days at the academy, though I had never actually stopped to enjoy it.
"Of course," I answered.
Raymond raised his hand briefly as a gesture, then truly disappeared into the crowd.
I stood alone at the side of the road, the coins still clasped in my hand.
Strange.
For the first time since the night of the ceremony, I was standing alone in the capital without feeling afraid. People passed by all around me, busy with their own affairs, and not a single one of them looked at me with disgust or pity. Here, I was not a mixed-blood child. Not a prince's former fiancee.
Just an ordinary woman standing at the side of the road.
I drew a slow breath, then began to walk.
My main reason for coming here was not to shop. Even though Raymond said this money was my wages, I knew the reality was not that simple. I could not keep depending on him forever. The clothes he had bought me. The food in his house. The roof over my head. All of it was his. And I, even though I no longer felt like a prisoner, was still someone living off another person's kindness.
That had to change.
I needed a job. A real job. Income that was truly my own.
Raymond had once suggested an administrative position at the guild. At the time, I did not answer. Not because I refused, but because I was not yet ready to admit that the path he was offering might make more sense than the one I wanted to take.
But a week had passed. A week to think. A week to accept that this world would not change simply because I was stubborn.
First step.
I would go to the guild.