Bright morning sun and the chirping of small birds.

A certain village — a place rich in nature, to put it nicely; or, to put it bluntly, deeply rural.

On a hill on the outskirts of such a tranquil village,

There stood the mansion.

The mansion's sole occupant was a Marchioness named Violette Aimée Schellenbourg.

Rumor has it that she incurred the Prince's wrath by insulting a saintess, leading to the annulment of her engagement and her expulsion from the royal capital.

In what was once a bustling noble's resort – now completely desolate – Violette, even today, continued to live a slow, self-indulgent life, filling the air with her hearty laughter.

*This work is also published on AlphaPolis.