villainess'ss Secret Service

c131

Rostan and roksolna

Rosalie fixed her big, empty gray eyes on the stone path in front of her, her thoughts wandering through familiar but confusing areas of her mind. It all started with the letter Laith brought her about Evangelina, and now she felt overwhelmed and disoriented.

Questions swirled in her mind like autumn leaves caught in a light breeze.

'How could this even be possible? It feels like this whole situation is changing the very core of our story. So, what happens now? Who will help Damien in his struggle against the curse that binds him? And what about the other events that were supposed to happen once Evangelina returned?'

This situation was frustrating and confusing. As Rosalie read the letter from Laith, startling truths emerged. A baby girl named "Florence," wrapped in a blanket with her name stitched on it, had lived in an orphanage for a few months before dying from a serious lung disease.

These revelations stirred a mix of emotions in Lady Ashter. On one hand, despite her inner conflict, she felt a sense of relief and unexpected joy at this twist in the story. But on the other hand, a big question loomed: If there was no trace of the Hidden Saintess, who would help Damien in his desperate fight to break his curse?

Rosalie gently rubbed her forehead, as if trying to smooth out an imaginary wrinkle, and let out a long sigh.

'Does this mean I can spend more time with him? If I keep sharing my strength with him, will he be okay? But then again... What will happen to me in the end? Half of my soul is trapped by Asmodeus! This situation has turned into complete chaos. Everything feels so wrong.'

Princess Angelica, who had been quietly watching her friend struggle with these thoughts, placed a gentle hand on Rosalie's shoulder. She leaned in closer and whispered softly,

"Rosalie, are you alright? Would you prefer to wait inside the Palace?"

Rosalie flinched at the princess's question, caught between her thoughts. As her bright eyes met Angelica's, she managed a small smile and replied carefully,

"I'm fine, just a little nervous."

Rosalie's worries about the future of both Damien and herself were not her only concerns today. Another important issue weighed on her heart—the respected delegation from the Empire of Izaar was arriving, and she had the honor of being there with Princess Angelica.

Suddenly, she realized she stood before the grand entrance of the Emperor's Palace, surrounded by the Emperor, the important members of the Imperial Council, and her dear friend Princess Angelica. Their purpose was to personally welcome the leaders of the upcoming delegation.

She paused, her thoughts confused, but a strong resolve began to grow inside her.

'Even though my situation is confusing, this is not the time for personal worries. There is something much more important happening right now that needs my calmness, not just for Angelica’s sake but also for Damien’s. My own problems can wait for a better time.'

Lady Ashter's thoughts were interrupted again by the distant sound of approaching carriages. Moments later, the expected guests finally arrived.

Six tall carriages appeared, their deep red exteriors decorated with beautiful, intricate golden designs that shone brightly in the sun. The large horses pulling these grand vehicles were a rich brown, their long, silky manes resembling the golden sunset.

As the majestic horses came to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dust, a hush fell over the scene. Then, the door of the first and largest carriage opened with a soft creak, revealing a tall, bronzed figure with closely cropped black hair, dressed in a striking mix of red and yellow clothing.

The mysterious man extended his arm, offering help to those inside the carriage. A large hand then reached out, belonging to a tall, strong young man who stepped out with a regal presence.

Following him was another hand, this time belonging to a petite young woman, who gracefully stepped out with a playful elegance.

As the Imperial twins approached the representatives of Rische, Rosalie couldn’t help but gasp in awe. The siblings looked so alike that if they wore matching outfits and had the same haircut, they could be mirror images.

The young man wore a flowing, sleeveless black robe with intricate golden designs on the collar and chest. Across his shoulders was an embroidered image of a powerful dragon, adding to his majestic aura.

Underneath the robe, he wore a white silk shirt with long, billowing sleeves that sparkled in the light, like untouched snow. His straight black hair hung down his back in a loose braid and rested on his shoulder. His bangs framed his tanned face, highlighting the bright green color of his almond-shaped eyes.

His sister, though small, showed noticeable strength. She wore a robe of the same style but in a vibrant shade of red, like the Laurel flower. Her loose sleeves matched the shining ivory color of her silk shirt, providing a striking contrast to her straight black hair, which was secured with a long golden hairpin.

The twins had an enchanting charm that seemed almost out of place in Rische. As they approached their hosts, their presence took on an ethereal quality.

Rosalie’s big gray eyes struggled to choose which twin to focus on. Their captivating aura was almost too much to take in. Eventually, she settled her gaze on the commanding presence of the prince, her heart racing with swirling emotions.

'Wow... So this is how people from Izaar look... I can’t remember their description from the novel, but they really have a magical aura, like they stepped out of another world. Their beauty feels straight out of a fantasy story.'

As the Imperial twins stood before their welcoming hosts, their emerald eyes carefully looked over each representative before they smiled widely and greeted everyone.

"Good afternoon, esteemed members of the Imperial family of Rische, distinguished members of the Imperial Council, and Your Grace..."

The young man spoke in a low, strangely seductive tone, his voice carrying a hint of allure. He paused for a moment, letting his gaze linger on the Grand Duchess. With a warm smile, he bowed politely to the others, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his shirt as he continued in the same enchanting manner:

"I am Rostan, and this is my sister Roksolana Izaar, representing the Imperial family of Emperor Rohanon Izaar. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Majesty."

"The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness!" the Emperor replied warmly, bowing in return and prompting the rest of his group to follow his lead.

"You must be tired from your journey. Let my servants show you to your rooms first so you can get some much-needed rest. Although I didn’t organize a grand welcome banquet as you requested, I would be honored if you would join us for dinner. I’ll make sure you enjoy the finest dishes of Rische."

Rostan exchanged a sly yet friendly look with his sister. Turning back to the Emperor, he offered another warm smile, a curious glint in his eyes as he replied, "That would be wonderful, Your Majesty."

Then, he looked at Rosalie, giving her a long, thoughtful gaze as if trying to see more than just her appearance. The duchess, in turn, tried to understand what his intense look meant, but couldn’t find any answers.

Before she could gather her thoughts, Rostan’s gaze shifted away from her. Still, as he followed the Imperial servants into the grand Palace, he occasionally tilted his head to catch another glimpse of the lady standing behind him.