âAnything. Anything The Queen must do to help.â
âShall I call the Duchess of Sethang for you, Your Highness? She has always asked for favors from you.â
Iris recalled Duchess Elena In Sethang in her head. She was an intelligent and cold-looking beauty who was more affectionate than people gave her credit.
Thinking of the woman, who had personally taken care of Irisâs bedding so kindly, Iris nodded and smiled, âIf the Duchess would like to guide me, I would appreciate that. I want to be useful as a queen.â Iris made up her mind, thinking from a commonerâs perspective of food, that although she was going to run away soon, she still needed to earn her foodâs worth!
The Queen Rosemaryâs official representative, Elena In Sethang, who was always irritated by The Queenâs failure to fulfill her duties, rushed over gleefully within two hours after hearing the miraculous news. She arrived so quickly that one wouldâve thought sheâd flown to the palace!
âYour Majesty, My Queen!â Elena greeted Iris joyfully. âHer Highness, who is generous, merciful, wise, and intelligent.â Elena praised her, something she had never done for Rosemary before, and then kissed Iris on the hand before standing up and beaming. âBecause it is your first time, I have created a schedule in ten-minute sections. Let us walk and talk.â
âTen? Ten minutes?â Iris opened her eyes wide. It was still morning! If it was every ten minutes, what about her meals? And the bathroom? And her break? How many tasks did she have that required just ten-minute blocks?
At Irisâs words, Elena happily nodded and replied, âOnce you get used to it, I will plan for every second.â Elenaâs smiling face was practically glowing, and her pearly-white teeth shone eerily.
Wow, the sky is yellow. Was the sky yellow, or did the blue sky look yellow today? Iris wondered as she peered out the window and daydreamed for a moment. Using magic to write a letter in Rosemaryâs handwriting, Iris sat quietly at the small mahogany desk by the window while Elena shoved cookies into her mouth. Elena had claimed that no one said that you had to eat with your own hands.
âYour Highness, this letter is crooked. And donât forget the elegant brush strokes.â Elena pulled the letter from under Irisâs quill.
Her arm hurt, but Iris couldnât say that out loud and bit her bottom lip instead. Her arm felt like it was swelling, but she was unsure if it was already swollen or if it just felt that way. The mound of letters couldâve been written by someone else, and Iris couldâve just signed them.
There were so many letters from the people who wanted The Queen to hear their stories; she couldnât believe how many. Rosemary had ignored all the letters, and Iris was unaware of this, so she earnestly read through each letter, one by one.
The letters described awful situations, and there were many requests for help from Queen Rosemary. In both the tower and in the workshop, Iris had lived a very sheltered life.
She didnât know this at the time, but everyone around her was under the towerâs orders. They monitored her condition, and once a day, they reported her state to the towerâs monk. Of course, the towerâs monk was a disciple of Elaineâs.
Because of this, Iris had no idea how people in the outside world lived, and she had no intention of knowing. She had never thought about the stories of the less privileged. Now, she sat in shock as she read about sick people, starving people, and people whose family members had died. Their grief-stricken letters made Iris want to curl up into a ball and cry her heart out.
On the other hand, some letters were more light-hearted. They were letters written by noblewomen who wrote about lively entertainment, such as trips, tea parties, and balls.
There were many letters between the heart-breaking ones, talking about various other things. Iris didnât know much about royal society, and so when she found an invitation to the ball, she only recognized it as an invitation. Royal Society was typically a political and complicated place, but Iris had no way of knowing this either.
âAfter signing the letters for twenty more minutes, we shall move to the temple.â Elena interrupted her thoughts.
âThe temple?â As Irisâs hand stopped moving, she looked up at Elena, who then tapped twice on the desk. She meant for Iris to keep moving her hand, even when she was talking.
Elena spoke as Iris continued to sign with her aching arm, âThe lady of the nation, Her Highness, will participate in the prayer meeting for the many people of our country.â
âWho are we praying to?â
âTo Ruthna.â
My guardian goddess, Ruthna! She was the protector of all wizards and the goddess holding this world together. It was difficult to understand how she created everything in this universe and then just sat by and watched all the misery.
The first lesson that Iris had learned at the tower was that everything in this world existed out of necessity, and sheâd often thought about what that necessity was. Iris moved her gaze down for a moment.
âIt is a shame that your hands are not working, Your Highness,â Elena wouldnât even pardon her for just a second.
âYes, yes. I am writing.â Iris shook away her thoughts and concentrated on her writing and signatures. Elena had frighteningly told her that she expected a certain number of letters to be signed in twenty minutes, and if not finished, she wanted them done before she went to bed that night. Iris had sighed heavily, wishing sheâd never asked about the duties.
The temple, commonly known as the Great Temple of Ruthna Shetarion, had been built by a man called Mr. Shetarion. He was known as the wealthiest man on the continent and a faithful worshipper of Ruthna. Mr. Shetarion had dedicated the temple to the goddess, Ruthna, and it was known throughout the empire for its beautiful architecture.
In the magnificent hall stood an enormous statue that was ten meters tall, crafted with white marble, and beautifully decorated with numerous jewels and stained glass. Despite being made of marble, it was famous for being so real that you could almost feel her breath.