Chapter 1: PBDK

“Applicant number 316, Chloe Evergreen!”

‘That’s my number, isn’t it?’

“…Ah, yes!”

I wasn’t yet used to the name “Chloe Evergreen,” so it took me a moment to realize I was being called.

I covered my sloppy reaction with an awkward smile and stepped forward. One of the attendants assisting the knight selection exam handed me a cheap iron sword.

I took it on reflex, feeling slightly dazed.

‘What is this?’

I know it’s a sword.

But it felt completely different from what I was used to.

I had learned swordsmanship as a hobby, but I’d always used high-quality blades tailored to me.

The dull weight and rough texture of this cheap iron sword felt unfamiliar.

It was clearly a sword in shape, but it didn’t belong in the same category as the one carefully stored in the palace armory under special care.

While I was still confused, the examiner, who had probably repeated the same instructions dozens of times today, recited them flatly.

“Pour your maximum aura into it and strike that rock.”

The blade looked full of impurities, probably making it quite fragile.

‘If I hit that rock with this, won’t it just break immediately?’

But even though I had grown up sheltered and wasn’t particularly perceptive about social situations, I knew better than to question this here. That would get me disqualified on the spot.

So I tilted my head slightly—just enough to look obedient—and raised the sword.

‘So breaking it must be part of the test.’

Just before I infused aura and swung down, the examiner—who had been focused on his grading papers the entire time—suddenly looked at me.

“Wait.”

My arm froze awkwardly in midair.

“Yes? Why? I mean—what is it?”

I asked back, confused. The examiner clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Setting the glasses aside… can you even see properly with your hair like that?”

I pushed up the glasses that had slipped down to the bridge of my nose with my index finger, then swept my bangs aside.

“I can see perfectly fine!”

The examiner flipped through my application with obvious dissatisfaction.

He was checking the vision test section.

His eyes lingered on one part several times, but I remained confident.

‘Everything should be normal.’

In fact, my eyesight was better than most people’s.

The glasses and messy hair were just disguises.

It’s embarrassing to say this myself, but portraits of our family—famous for our distinctive beauty—were spread throughout the empire.

Since the coming-of-age ritual required us to live for a year under a false identity, I couldn’t reveal my real face.

But the crisis of failing the ceremony came immediately.

“The hair is fine. But since your eyesight is good, could you take those off?”

The examiner nodded toward my precious glasses.

“Palace knights are required to maintain dignity.”

He added the explanation as if this wasn’t just nitpicking.

I flinched at the reasonable-sounding argument.

As an artifact taken from the imperial treasury, these glasses were designed in a style that was popular over 200 years ago.

In other words, they were so outdated they seriously undermined “dignity.”

But if I took them off, my identity would be exposed. And if that happened, I would fail the coming-of-age ritual.

Just imagining being the first imperial royal to fail it made my skin crawl.

“No way!”

I clutched the glasses tightly and shouted.

The examiner’s expression, which had only been displeased before, now turned more serious.

A candidate refusing to remove ridiculously outdated glasses despite having perfect vision—this was asking to be marked down.

I quickly searched for an excuse.

‘This is kind of low…’

But I couldn’t think of anything better.

I squeezed my eyes shut and blurted out,

“They’re my late grandfather’s keepsake!”

‘Well, technically it came from the imperial treasury.’

It must have been passed down by a previous emperor anyway.

The examiner, who looked like he had been ready to fail me a moment ago, softened noticeably.

“Ahem.”

He avoided my gaze and cleared his throat.

“A keepsake, huh… then just keep wearing them.”

Strangely sentimental, he seemed to imagine some story behind the glasses.

“Yes! Thank you!”

I quickly responded before he could change his mind again and raised the sword once more.

‘Let’s finish this quickly.’

I gathered my aura.

Hoo—

A faint pink glow formed along the blade—so subtle that only I could see it.

Then I swung down at the rock.

CLANG!

The sound was like metal striking metal.

‘Ouch, my hand.’

Still, a clear crack formed across the rock.

Crackling sounds spread as it split further. The hit had definitely worked.

For a strike made with a cheap iron sword, wasn’t this actually a pretty good result?

As I proudly shook out my stinging hand, I heard murmuring from behind me.

This felt ominous.

“Do I… have to completely break it?”

My pupils trembled violently.

‘Am I going to fail the knight exam for lack of strength?’

Sir Calix said I’d pass easily if I was at this level…

Was he just flattering me as a student—or the daughter of his superior?

As I began to doubt Sir Calix, the truth fortunately came out otherwise.

The examiner, after staring at the cracked rock for a long moment, finally spoke.

“Pass.”

“Yes!”

I clenched both fists in triumph.

“You’re happy after breaking your only spare sword?!”

The examiner laughed in disbelief.

…Maybe swordsmanship is only fun when it’s a hobby.

“358 days left.”

Every day feels like a month…

The first three or four days were actually fun.

For someone like me, who had always been restricted for safety reasons, the knight order building was fascinating.

Pretending to be “Chloe Evergreen” even felt like role-playing.

But training was harsh, and rumors about how I had passed the entrance exam spread quickly. Life in the knights’ order became much harder.

‘358 days…’

I sighed as I counted the remaining time.

Then a shout came from behind me.

“Hey, rookie! Didn’t you hear me?!”

“Yes! I heard you!”

I, now fairly accustomed to the hierarchy after just a week, snapped to attention.

“How many times do I have to call you? Already spacing out?”

It was Sir Hugo, my assigned senior.

He had a slightly old-fashioned, nagging personality, but was relatively kind compared to others. Still, he seemed irritated.

His scolding didn’t last long.

“You know next week Sir Elias Blake is coming in as the new commander, right?”

‘Why would Elias be here?’

But saying I didn’t know would drag this out, so—

“Yes! I know!”

I nodded immediately.

Hugo pointed toward the commander’s office.

“He’s been assigned to our miserable Tenth Order, so he’ll probably be in a bad mood. Go clean the commander’s office. Make it shine.”

I had already learned in one week that asking “Why me?” never ended well.

Neither did mentioning that there were cleaning maids for this.

“Yes, sir!”

I had no idea how to clean properly, but I agreed anyway.

Every time I asked “why,” the knights got angry.

Hugo looked slightly surprised at my obedient answer.

Patting my shoulder, he said in a rare gentle tone,

“You’re finally learning how to behave.”

Knights grow into sharp, perceptive people by serving seniors or academy upperclassmen.

Compared to that…

I was the youngest princess of the Empire.

A country with no succession struggles because my family got along too well.

Servants, nannies, friends—all kind and gentle people.

Because of that upbringing, even though I tried to be mindful and polite, other knights saw me as “one of those kids these days.”

Getting praised for being slightly obedient was proof of that.

Hugo leaned in and added in a lower voice,

“You know the new commander is close friends with His Highness the Crown Prince, right?”

‘I know that very well. That Crown Prince is my older brother.’

I even used to play with Elias when we were kids.

‘Things got awkward as we grew up.’

“Yes!”

I answered briefly while thinking. Hugo continued,

“No matter how talented he is, people are saying he’s too young for such a position. That’s why he was assigned to the Tenth Order. But in my opinion, he’ll be promoted within a year. Make a good impression. I’m telling you this for your own good.”

He spoke with exaggerated seriousness.

It was actually valuable advice for someone like me—rumored to be a commoner recruit who got in through favoritism.

“Yes, sir!”

I smiled brightly.

Hugo patted my shoulder once more and left.

I headed toward the commander’s office.

“Something will work out.”

Trying to stay optimistic, I opened the door firmly.

“Huh?”