Margaret Illenia was the very definition of a lady to a knight.
Why?
It was simple.
She was a princess.
Or rather, used to be one.
The Kingdom of Illenia, while neither acknowledged nor officially recognized by the Four Empires, still held its own place in the world. But calling it a “kingdom” was a bit of a stretch. It was more like a walled village with its own culture and customs.
That’s why, even now, Margaret’s accent would sometimes slip through in her speech.
However, her life as a princess didn’t last long.
By the time she was nine, demons had overrun her home, reduced to ashes.
Despite Illenia’s independence, the Empire of Aetherion eventually dispatched high-ranking mages and knights to clean up the situation.
The battle was harsh, and though the demons were wiped out, the casualties were severe.
Many of Illenia’s people were lost that day. Even Margaret’s mother, the Queen, was among the dead.
Though her father survived. So did she.
With the help of the Empire of Aetherion, the survivors were relocated, given food, clothes, and a place to stay.
But there was no such thing as free lunch.
As a kingdom unrecognized by the Four Empires, the Illenia family wasn’t considered royalty or nobility. They were treated as refugees, not aristocrats.
And so, the debt began.
Her father, once a king, now spent his days working tirelessly to pay it off.
Day after day, night after night. He did it all to secure their living expenses and to ensure his daughter, Margaret could have a future.
That was the extent of Vanitas’s knowledge, regarding Margaret’s background from the original game.
Anything beyond that wasn’t relevant to the player, or the narrative.
And anything that happened from now, early in the game’s narrative, would depend on the circumstances ahead.
“So, uhm….” Margaret hesitated, glancing away. “Wouldn’t it be better if someone from the Crusade Department showed me around…?”
“I thought the same,” Vanitas replied as the two walked side–by–side. “But the Headmaster insisted on assigning me, considering we knew each other.”
“Is that so…?”
“Or would you prefer someone else do it?”
Margaret shook her head quickly. “N–No, it’s fine. I’m just…. a little surprised, that’s all.”
“Surprised?”
“Yes, well, I thought you’d be busy….”
“I have time to spare for today.”
“I see….”
They walked in silence for a moment. Students passed by, some sneaking glances at Margaret, clearly recognizing her status. A few even whispered to each other.
——Is that really her?
——She’s even more beautiful than the rumors say.
Margaret pursed her lips, holding back a smile, but it slipped through anyway. Her shoulders straightened just a bit more, and she walked with a touch of pride.
She clearly enjoyed the recognition.
“Isn’t the training hall back there?” Margaret asked, pointing at the room they had just passed.
“Renovations,” Vanitas said without looking back. “They moved it to the west wing. I’ll take you there.”
Margaret nodded and followed him down the hallway. The sounds of clashing wood and metal echoed, getting louder as they walked.
Students wearing Crusade uniforms moved past them. They glanced at Margaret briefly. Some recognized her and whispered among themselves, but none dared to approach.
“It feels kind of odd,” Margaret muttered.
“What does?” Vanitas asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Being back here as a visiting instructor” she replied. “Back when I was a student, I used to run through these halls just like them. Now I’m just…. walking.”
Vanitas didn’t respond. He understood the feeling.
There was a strange detachment when one returned to a place they once belonged to, only to realize they no longer fit in the same way
They continued in silence until they arrived at the training hall. From the slight gap in the large double doors, they could see a lecture in progress..
“We’ll head inside tomorrow,” Vanitas said. “This is where you’ll be teaching.”
Margaret peeked through the door.
“Ah, wow….” she breathed out softly. “There’s so many… students….”
Her hands moved to the hem of her shirt, fidgeting with the fabric. She tugged it slightly, twisting the cloth back and forth.
Vanitas raised an eyebrow, observing her quietly. ‘Is she nervous?’
Her eyes darted between the students and the instructor. She kept adjusting her stance like she was trying to ground herself.
‘She is.’
“Pressured?”
Margaret’s cheeks puffed slightly as she let out a short breath. “No, I’m fine.”
“You’re fidgeting.”
“I’m not.”
“Your hands say otherwise.”
She quickly pulled her hands away from her shirt and folded her arms.
“It’s just…. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken in front of this many people, that’s all.”
“How are you managing your Order….”
Margaret sighed, placing a hand on her chest as if steadying herself. Slowly, she slid the door to the training hall closed.
“Well, you’ll be fine as long as you’ve prepared your lesson plan,” Vanitas said, glancing at her. “It’s only two months. Not that long.”
“Ah?” Margaret’s eyes darted away, avoiding his gaze.
Vanitas raised an eyebrow. Don’t tell me…
“You….”
“Y-Yes?”
“Did you prepare anything?”
“Of course I did!” she said quickly, but her voice cracked halfway through.
Vanitas crossed his arms, staring at her in silence.
Margaret fidgeted, her eyes darting left and right.
“W–Well…. I thought I’d figure it out once I got here.”
“Sigh.”
“It’s just…. back with my Order, all I have to do is say, ‘Block this, attack that,’ and they’d do it.”
“….”
***
After Vanitas showed her around the campus, they took a detour. Beneath the shade of a gazebo, papers were scattered across the table.
Vanitas picked up one of the pages and scanned.
“Sixty-Four Folds? Isn’t that a bit much for a first-year student?” he asked, raising a brow.
Margaret, who was scribbling down more notes, paused mid-stroke and glanced up at him.
“Is it?” she asked, tilting her head like it was the first time she’d considered it.
“This is a third-year level sword art.”
“Really?” Margaret blinked. “I honestly forgot. It’s just…. it’s really easy.”
Vanitas gave her a flat look. “For you, maybe.”
Margaret scratched her cheek, eyes shifting away. “I thought starting with something cool would motivate them.”
Vanitas let out a sigh. “Here.”
He pulled out a stack of papers and handed them to her.
“This is.…?” Margaret tilted her head, flipping through the pages.
“A course outline I put together.”
Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the contents. “Huh? But what do you know about swordsmanship?”
“Doesn’t take much,” Vanitas shrugged. “Read a few books, figure out which ones are beginner-friendly.”
“….”
Margaret blinked, stunned for a moment.
“What?” Vanitas asked, raising a brow.
“N–Nothing….”
Her eyes moved across the pages, slowly at first, then faster.
Her brows raised higher with each turn. The outline was clean and perfectly organized.
Every step was laid out, from basic stance drills to gradual techniques, all designed to steadily increase the students’ proficiency.
It wasn’t something done overnight.
The level of detail, the variety of sword arts included, it wasn’t just one book. Five? No, maybe ten books worth of study.
Her grip on the papers tightened.
‘He…. studied all this…. for me?’
Margaret glanced at him, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“….What now?” Vanitas asked, noticing her stare.
“Nothing,” Margaret muttered, eyes darting back to the papers. Her grip softened as her fingers traced one of the headers.
She read through it again.
“….It’s good.”
“Of course it is,” Vanitas said, leaning back on the bench, arms folded behind his head. “I don’t do things halfway.”
Margaret bit her lip to stop the smile creeping onto her face.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
“Don’t mention it,” Vanitas replied, eyes closed like it was nothing.
There was a common misconception, a question her friends often asked her.
‘Do you have feelings for Vanitas?’
But no, that wasn’t it. Not even close.
It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even respect.
It was something else entirely.
Gratitude.
***
On the day the demons overran her kingdom, there was an unexpected guest.
The Astrea family.
A Viscount family from the Empire, they had only come for sightseeing. Maybe it was just a vacation to escape the reach of the Four Empires.
It could have been anywhere.
But by coincidence, they were there. On that day.
They couldn’t be considered childhood friends. Just two children brought together by chance.
Her, a princess.
Him, a Viscount’s son.
——You…. are you lost?
A boy, no older than seven, stood in front of her. Jet-black hair framed his face, and his amethyst eyes locked onto hers.
Around them, the kingdom burned. Flames roared, smoke choked the sky, and the ground trembled with the stomping of demons.
Margaret’s breathing was ragged. Her tiny hands clutched the hem of her dirt-stained dress. The knights had told her to run, to find her parents. So she did. But now, she was alone.
Her eyes darted around, scanning for any familiar faces. Her parents. Her people. The knights. But there was no one.
No one except him.
“I…. I don’t know where to go…. Father…. Mother…. I don’t know where they are….”
The boy looked at her for a moment. He glanced at the flames, then at the path ahead.
——Follow me.
“W–Wait, who are you?”
——Vanitas. Vanitas Astrea.
His grip was firm. He didn’t run too fast, just fast enough that she could keep up.
The sounds of destruction followed them, making Margaret flinch. But every time she stumbled, he glanced back and slowed down just a little.
——Don’t stop.
The path ahead was narrow as they navigated between collapsing buildings and shattered walls.
Smoke stung Margaret’s eyes, and her vision blurred. Her legs felt like they’d give out any second.
“W–Wait, wait, I…. I can’t….!”
Vanitas stopped, turning to face her.
——Get on.
“What….”
——Get on. I’ll carry you.
“B–But you’re—”
——Do you want to live or not? Hurry up.
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t argue. Hesitantly, she climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck.
——Don’t worry. Help is coming. My Father has requested the Empire’s assistance. Just hold on tight.
Then, he ran.
The world blurred past them as Vanitas moved. His feet crunched against gravel and ash, dodging fallen beams and shattered stone.
Margaret buried her face into his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut.
“Are you…. not scared?”
——Of course I am. Yesterday, me and my father were just—Ah!
His eyes widened, and he suddenly shifted his weight, swiftly changing direction.
A knight stood in their path, clashing against a demon.
——Get back, kids! Run!
Vanitas didn’t need to be told twice.
His body moved on its own, taking a sharp left. Margaret’s arms tightened around his neck, and he could feel her trembling.
——Haaa…. To sum it up, yes I’m scared. But being scared won’t get us out of here.
Margaret peeked over his shoulder. The world outside was a blur of orange flames, gray smoke, and blackened ruins. It was a scene out of a nightmare.
“….Then why are you helping me?”
Vanitas didn’t respond immediately. He glanced back at her.
——Because you’re here. What else am I supposed to do? Leave you behind?
Margaret’s chest tightened. Her breath hitched, and for the first time, she stopped feeling scared. She just buried her face deeper into his shoulder.
When they met a dead end, Margaret’s heart sank.
But then, something unexpected happened.
——O breath of the unseen, unseen but felt. Twist and turn, break and shatter—Windburst!
Swoosh!
A powerful gust of wind surged beneath Vanitas’s feet. In an instant, they shot upward.
“Aaaah!”
Margaret’s eyes widened as the world spun below them. She gripped him tighter, holding on for dear life.
They flew.
It was magic. He, a boy two years younger than her, was capable of such a feat.
When they finally arrived with the group of refugees escaping, Margaret glanced around.
Then she heard it—his voice.
——Margaret!
Her head snapped toward the sound. Her father was there, pushing his way through the crowd.
“Father!”
Her legs moved on their own. She ran straight to him, throwing her arms around him.
But instead of relief, she felt his hands grip her shoulders tightly.
——Where have you been?!”
“I’m sorry….”
Her father sighed deeply. Margaret had always been the type to sneak outside their home, exploring places she wasn’t supposed to within the kingdom walls.
Her personal knights would often cover for her, letting her wander as long as she promised to stay within sight.
But that day, everything went wrong.
That day, tragedy struck.
The demon horde came without warning. In the chaos, she lost sight of her knights and her family.
Margaret glanced over her shoulder, searching for the boy who had saved her. Margaret could tell how well educated he was. He was obviously younger, yet his speech was more impeccable than hers.
“….”
But he was gone.
‘I didn’t even thank him….’
Then, it hit her.
“….Where’s Mother?”
——…..
Her father’s steps slowed.
Her heart began to race.
“Father…?”
——…..
He didn’t answer.
Her eyes widened. No. No, it couldn’t be.
She quickly pulled away from his grasp, stopping in her tracks.
“Where’s Mother?!”
Her father didn’t meet her gaze.
——….Listen to me, Margaret,
Her chest tightened.
“….No… no, no, no….”
Her father reached out for her, but she stumbled back, eyes wide with disbelief.
“….No! That’s not true!”
***
“I need to go, Margaret,” Vanitas said. “I have a lecture at 1:00. Feel free to modify the outline. If you’re unsure, just drop by my office.”
“Ah…. okay….”
Margaret’s gaze settled on his retreating figure.
Back then, when they migrated to the Empire, she had no time or chance to look for him.
Survival had been her and father’s only goal. It wasn’t until she enrolled in Silver Tower University, under a scholarship, that fate brought them back together.
But…..
——You are?
Those were his words when they first met again. His eyes had been distant. He didn’t remember her.
Of course, he wouldn’t.
She had never told him her name. Back then, she was just a girl he saved in the middle of chaos.
He probably didn’t even know she was the princess of that so-called “kingdom.”
But there was something more than just forgotten faces and names.
He didn’t feel like the same boy from back then.
The warmth in his voice was gone.
The bright, determined eyes that once navigated the wreckage had dulled into something cold. Detached, even.
Like he was someone else entirely.
Margaret shook her head and continued studying the outline.
There was no point pondering on it now.
“Hm?”
Margaret glanced up to see a bird perched above, staring down at her with its head tilted.
“Cute….”
***
Vanitas had expected this to happen.
It wasn’t a matter of intelligence. Far from it. Margaret excelled in strategy, combat analysis, and theoretical studies.
She could break down enemy formations, predict movement patterns, and identify weaknesses at a glance.
But ‘administrative work’ was a different story, and it wasn’t hard to see why.
When Margaret was still a princess of Illenia, she had no reason to learn such skills.
Her world was filled with knights, tutors, and attendants who did those tasks for her.
Her only responsibilities back then were etiquette lessons, dance practice, and a few diplomatic lessons from her father.
At nine years old, the most ‘administrative work’ she had probably done was choosing what dress to wear for her birthday celebration.
Something like that probably happened.
Then, everything fell apart.
When the demons overran Illenia, she lost the comforts of nobility.
Her world shifted from ‘what color of ribbon to wear’ to ‘which path to run to avoid death.’
From that point on, she only learned skills that could help her survive. Swordsmanship. Combat strategy. Adaptation.
She became the kind of person who excelled in battle, but never had the time, or the patience, to sit at a desk and balance ledgers.
Her father wasn’t much help either.
Once they settled in Aetherion, he had spent most of his time working to pay off debts.
Margaret had to mature quickly, taking on the role of protector, rather than princess.
So, it made sense that she was like this now. She could conquer enemies but struggled to conquer paperwork.
That’s why Vanitas had stepped in. All of it was possible thanks to the Spectacle.
He didn’t expect her to be grateful, nor did he care if she even realized how much effort went into it.
All that mattered was that she succeeded.
Not for her sake.
But for his own.
“No matter how long it takes, I’ll get her on my side.”
Because he needed her for whatever he and Soliette were about to embark on.
But there was one thing about Margaret that only people in her Order knew.
A brief fact written in the personality tab on her character profile, according to veteran players, her experiences had created a shift in her.
Two sides of Margaret.
The noble princess.
The hardened knight.
It was like dealing with two completely different people.
Vanitas shuddered at the thought.
He could only pray for the students now.