1 Prologue

[Year 1040, Vauxhall Empire]

I always tried to be brave. People love brave girls. Like the Saintess Rhiannon or the Great General Louisa . They like intelligent, beautiful girls who can wage war and come back victorious. They brush off the obedient ones because feisty is more entertaining. That's how it always been. Those who break their chains and divert from normal are the ones that will be remembered. The rest are just extras.

"Make me queen."

It was spoken on a whim. A demand from a fraint-hearted little cat who deluded herself into believing that she could become a lion. Unfortunately, such childish foolishness ruined my life.

I stared at the large painting hanging against the marbled wall of the Imperial Palace. A piece of art trying to express the beauty of the black-haired woman. Her luscious black hair flowed like ocean waves, a thin layer of bangs covered her forehead and thick eyebrows of the same color. It highlighted her hazel colored eyes—I thought it was green but my brother argued it was brown so we settled that it was hazel. To be honest, now that I'm all grown-up (I still haven't debuted yet but I'm almost there), I can see why mother forced us to settle with hazel.

My hand instinctively reached for her necklace that stood out from her fair skin. The chain was black—as black as her hair. The pendant itself was green. No. Not green like her eyes but green as in the beautiful color of evergreen forest during spring. It was a lively dark color that held the image of a familiar crest.

Cypress. A weak tree that dies easily. I bit my lip and tilted my head to side. My tutor told me that Cypress, along with Asphodels, symbolizes the Dead. How fitting.

A lot of people, gentry and commoners alike, told me that this woman, Lady Sigrid Aveyard-Wagner, was atrocious. In fact, she was so evil that people branded her as the worst villainess in living memory. A woman who manipulated people, slaughtered cities and pitted kingdoms against each other. However....

"Had she'd been born a generation later, she would've been adored for her charm and intelligence." Gale, my tutor, commented when he saw my face.

Why are there still some people who finds her life interesting? Why would anyone be invested in the life of a villainous woman? They should be disgusted and disturbed by the amount of wrong she committed. They should be repulsed that she's tenacious enough to drag an entire dynasty with her and still smile horridly like she did in this portrait.

"I don't understand. She's vile and manipulative..." I tilted my head. Why are people still justifying her evil deeds and painting the villainess as the victim?

Sir Gale blinked and shurgged, "Her time is ruled by men who only loved themselves. And yet she lived longer and had power more than any women her generation was allowed to. That says a lot, don't you think?"

"Yes. That she's ambitious and greedy."

"Well, I can't argue otherwise." Sir Gale chuckled without humor, "She did wanted to rule the world. But maybe, you'll understand her when you're older."

I blinked and pouted.

"Papa said she's vile, and he's a grown-up."

Sir Gale gave me a side-look, "Some people spend their lives blinded from the truth. Your father is one of those fools."

And what made him think that I am not like my father? Besides, is it alright for him to talk about my Duke father like this?

"Enough about her. Sit down now, Mira. You still have some arithmetic worksheets to finish."

Lady Sigrid. Her life is a knowledge that passes through your brain and remains there for a long time. She was a subject to many debates and fiction. A figure that stood at the apex of feminism, one could argue.

It was ironic how, instead of celebrating the good Queen Esmeralda, who lived at the same era as the villainess and was, in all angles, better and kinder, we celebrated and immortalized the vile woman who doesn't deserve to be remembered.

What a pity.

"Finished with your lessons?" Father greeted as I sat with him for dinner.

"Yes."

"The Crown Prince wanted to accompany you at Zelda's Recital." He informed me, "Your sister said she'll be honored to have the prince watching her but asked for your permission nonetheless."

I stared at our dinner. Steak, mashed potatoes, and a serving of sweet corns. I reached for the wine glass to wet my lips as I listened to father. My answer for this kind of conversation are always automatic.

"Of course. How can I go against my beloved prince?" My voice came out too sweet I wanted to choke.

My father smiled at his obedient daughter.

"You'll be a good Queen, Mira."

I gulped a large amount of wine before placing in back on the table. I didn't looked at my father nor did I touched my food. I just stared at nothing as my ears rang. A good queen, indeed. One who listens to her husband, mouth shut until told otherwise, eyes blind at everything but her husband's instructions.

A perfect marionette queen, indeed.

Ah, right, that's why I never liked her....

I always tried to be brave. But at the end of the day, I am nothing but a good for nothing coward, unworthy to be remembered. Just like the good Queen, I became mute and blind. I was raised to let people like Lady Sigrid take the spotlight so I can enjoy the luxury of being a puppet.

Ahh, and I wondered why people like me are never celebrated as much. Its just as I thought. We're too dull to be entertaining.