Rita was startled by Cecilia’s sudden, abnormal behavior, her body moving before her mind could catch up.
She took a step forward and opened her arms, trying to protect the girl who had fallen to the ground like a frightened kitten.
“Don’t come closer!”
Cecilia’s pupils shrank even smaller.
On the marble floor, she flapped about like a stranded swan, using both her hands and feet to scramble several steps away from Rita.
Her palms searched the ground, seemingly looking for something she could use as a weapon, but all her fingers touched was the smooth marble surface—nothing else.
Rita’s movement to approach with open arms was abruptly stopped by Cecilia’s sharp command.
Besides the trembling at her fingertips, she didn’t dare make a single unnecessary move.
Although it felt strange, the two remained locked in this tense standoff.
Even though Rita wasn’t quick to react, she immediately sensed that something was wrong.
This was the first time Cecilia had lost her composure so openly in front of her—or rather, had shown her emotions so directly.
Even on the night when Cecilia secretly cried, she had held herself back.
This had to be related to the Mark engraved on Cecilia’s chest.
Perhaps the Mark had triggered some painful memory for Cecilia?
But that didn’t quite make sense—if Cecilia knew she would see the Mark, why would she be so generous as to let Rita bathe her, and for such a long time?
As Rita pondered this, her gaze inevitably flicked toward Cecilia’s chest.
“Ee.”
Cecilia let out a short, sharp cry, her whole body trembling in response.
So it was true!
The problem wasn’t just the Mark.
Before Rita saw it, Cecilia had been as usual; after the mention of the Mark, her temperament changed drastically. And on top of that, Cecilia had said, “What are you?” not “Who are you?”
In other words, seeing the Mark was the root of the problem.
Realizing this, Rita slowly raised her hands—afraid of frightening Cecilia even more—and took a few steps back, creating a greater distance between them.
She wasn’t planning to do anything—Rita was simply sending a message.
A flicker of surprise crossed Cecilia’s eyes.
Her barren chest heaved with several deep, exaggerated breaths, as if she was forcing herself to calm down.
After a few breaths, Cecilia’s trembling fingertips finally steadied.
She tried to push herself up from the floor, but whether because the marble was too slippery or the earlier fear had drained her strength, her small feet slipped as she pushed again and again, failing to get up.
Rita wasn’t completely oblivious.
Between just watching and provoking Cecilia’s displeasure, she chose a more balanced approach.
“Lady Cecilia, do you need my help?”
Hearing Rita’s voice, Cecilia’s fingers twitched, then she lowered her head.
Her golden hair fell like a curtain, hiding her expression.
But she still stretched out a hand in front of her.
Perhaps it was better not to see Cecilia’s face right now, Rita thought.
She stepped closer and crouched before Cecilia, holding the outstretched arm with one hand and supporting Cecilia’s shoulder with the other, clumsily helping her to stand.
The moment Rita touched her, she felt Cecilia’s body shudder violently again.
Though puzzled by all this, Rita knew it wasn’t the right time to ask questions.
All she could do was help the tiny princess sit on the stone bench, then quietly step aside and wait.
After a long silence and awkward tension that seemed ready to freeze the air, Cecilia finally broke it.
“Rita.” She softly called out the name that had suddenly entered her world. “Why do you stay by my side?”
Rita considered for a moment, then answered truthfully, “Because I suppose I can’t leave even if I wanted to?”
Cecilia pursed her lips, clearly not satisfied with the answer but didn’t press further.
Instead, she asked a question that caught Rita off guard.
“Tell me, what did you see?”
“Uh… the pool, steam, golden hair, and… your back?” Rita’s mind, which had just started turning again, suddenly stopped, not understanding what Cecilia meant. “Very beautiful.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Cecilia sighed helplessly, then seemed to take a deep breath as if to fill her lungs, as if steeling herself.
She turned her body toward Rita.
And also saw… the Mini Treasure Chest…
No, she must mean the Mark that had caused her emotional breakdown earlier.
Rita suddenly realized but dared not answer directly, afraid of causing more distress.
“Answer me.” Cecilia’s voice regained its usual authority.
During the time she had been helped up and seated by Rita, she had buried the anger and fear deep inside, donning her strong, commanding mask once again.
“It’s… some strange pattern, like…” Rita thought for a long time, swallowing a word that felt inappropriate here. “A tattoo? I can’t really describe it.”
“Could you see it clearly?”
“Yes.”
“I am called the Cursed Princess.” Cecilia seemed to finally exhale the breath she had just taken, placing a hand on her chest. “That is the reason.”
The problem is, you didn’t touch the right place.
The Mark was between the collarbones, near the heart, but where was she touching?
Could it be that even Cecilia herself couldn’t see this cursed pattern?
Rita swallowed her doubts and simply nodded, indicating she had heard.
“Do you still want to stay by my side?” Cecilia lowered her hand.
Why ask that all of a sudden?
Rita didn’t understand, nor what the curse was exactly.
Perhaps it would bring misfortune to those around Cecilia, which was why everyone avoided her?
But judging by Cecilia’s reaction just now, Rita felt the consequences would be harsh if she refused now.
After thinking it through, she left some room in her answer.
“Rest assured, I won’t look at you differently just because you bear a curse. If you want me by your side now, then I will stay here.”
Cecilia’s gaze grew subtle again—not satisfied nor disappointed, but more like confusion.
But that look didn’t last long.
After she lowered her head and blinked, it vanished without a trace.
“This is my secret. As for yours—I won’t ask. Not a single word.”
Saying this, Cecilia opened her arms toward Rita.
“Now, give me a hug.”