Chapter 57

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 57

Chapter Title: The Prince's Letter

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Recalling how I'd brushed off the escorts my dad assigned me for a walk, only to run into Adrian—who was destined to become Duvered's mortal enemy—and then blabbed Ishak's name by mistake... Lightning would surely strike the entire Duvered household if they found out.

Ishak let out a thoughtful hum as he read the letter.

"...Waiting for the day we meet again?"

I shot up like I'd been jolted, blurting out,

"W-wait, wrong address! More like Cookie Muncher. Yum yum."

I tried to casually shove Ishak back down and snatch the letter away, but...

Henri narrowed his eyes and said,

"The only girl in this castle who could fit into those shoes is Leblain."

At that, Ishak's face turned stormy. Dad growled,

"Which bastard."

Henri and Ishak shot Dad a chilling glare.

"Please cast a tracking spell, Father."

"Father, leave the vanguard to me."

...Since when did those two see eye to eye?

I desperately clutched my stomach and groaned.

"Owww..."

The Duvered folks flinched and rushed over.

"You okay?"

"What's wrong?!"

"Lebl."

Pretending to be in pain was embarrassing and made me feel guilty toward my family, but it was the most effective tactic.

I whimpered thinly, clutching my belly, "Tummy... hurts..."

Dad's eyes widened, and he scooped me up in a flash.

"Doctor!!"

He didn't even bother calling for one—instead, he carried me straight to the infirmary himself.

The letter lay forgotten in the garden, but I frantically signaled Lea with gestures.

That one! Mine!

Ever faithful, Lea glanced around and slipped the letter into her apron pocket.

My feverish invalid act had worked perfectly, and the letter fiasco was buried.

Only Lea, who'd delivered it, eyed me with narrowed suspicion.

"You made a friend at the temple! But since Lebl can't read letters, they asked me to send it instead."

I waved my hands awkwardly in excuse, and kind Lea dropped it without pressing further.

Once she left, I sighed and fiddled with the letter.

If Dad or my brothers knew it was from a prince, they might just kill him on the spot—or so my terrifying imagination warned.

They probably wouldn't go that far, but still, thank goodness Adrian and Duvered haven't crossed paths.

The two were fated to be archenemies.

People said if one died, everyone would know the other was behind it.

In fact, Duvered had once faced a massive crisis because of Adrian, and Adrian had nearly died due to Duvered's schemes.

I unfolded the letter.

It was just that one line Ishak had read. No signature revealing the sender.

Even so, I could sense how much agonizing thought Adrian had poured into those words.

He knew me as a mage. And being as sharp as he was, he'd realize how dangerous it was to contact me.

The Empress Dowager's faction despised mages—and anyone consorting with them.

The shoes... He must've seen mine.

Noble children's shoes were made of incredibly soft leather—more decorative than functional, since they rarely walked much.

Mine were comfier than most, free of ornaments, but still noble make, so they wore out quickly.

That day, I'd walked a ton—even up a hill—so they were in rough shape.

What a thoughtful kid.

I smiled faintly and hid the letter away where no one would see.

Then I penned a reply.

I wish we could meet right now, but...

Given Adrian's situation—and mine—I couldn't just rush off to see him.

Getting tangled with me, the Duvered lady and fake Child of Destiny, would only draw fiercer scrutiny from the Empress Dowager.

And if he got dragged into the battle for the throne, Duvered's future would be uncertain too.

But I couldn't stop worrying about him.

His image kept haunting me—that withered old tree of a boy, slumped alone after losing his retainers.

I tore a page from my sketchbook with a rip and wrote my response.

[Thanks for the gift. The shoes are pretty, and the flowers were so pretty. I'll think of you every time I see them. Let's write often!]

I sealed it neatly and asked an adjutant to deliver it to Adrian at the temple.

That evening, Dad visited.

"How's your tummy?"

"Gramps made medicine, and it's all better now!"

"Good."

Dad gently rubbed the corners of my eyes with his knuckles, then pulled a chair beside the bed and sat.

"Lebl, the temple has formally requested to educate you. What do you think?"

The Empress Dowager pulling back had made him anxious.

I fidgeted with my hands at his words.

"Duvered has many enemies. Staying here means constant danger. But at the temple, we wouldn't face accusations of being villains."

"..."

"You'd have the Empress Dowager's backing too, and could properly develop your holy power. It's good for your future."

"...Dad wants me to go to the temple?"

Dad smiled faintly.

"If you knew the petty tricks your brothers and I pulled to keep you from going, you'd be shocked."

"Then why do you want me to stay?"

"Maybe because you suit the light."

My family must've feared I'd get too comfortable there and never come back.

Duvered didn't discriminate when taking in territory folk—whether officials or hires, regardless of status or origin. Naturally, it attracted criminals.

And to prosper the house, generations of Duvered dukes had done whatever it took. Vassals and locals followed suit.

Imperial citizens branded such Duvereds as villains.

Dad hated the idea of me—who should be protected at the temple and hailed a hero—getting pointed fingers alongside them.

It was a thought the real Theodor Duvered never would've had, so my heart twinged a little.

I leaned my head against Dad's large hand.

"I like it here."

"..."

"With Dad and brothers and Duvered people. So I don't wanna go to the temple."

Dad stroked my hair with a faint smile.

"You remind me of when I vowed to be a good father."

Gazing into his gentle eyes, I thought,

I'll live here with my family.

Safely, once I've achieved my goal.

So I need to prepare to face the world.

Time flowed like running water.

Five years passed. I turned nine.

A sunny morning.

Sitting primly in a chair, letting Lea brush my hair, I gazed into the mirror.

My chubby, maple-leaf fingers had lengthened nicely, and my fluffy locks that once swung at my shoulders now reached my back.

"Braids, or ribbons?"

"Mm, ribbons."

Goodbye to my lispy toddler talk!

Thanks to relentless pronunciation drills, I could speak quite elegantly now.

I covered my mouth with both fists to stifle a giggle, then straightened my back.

The maids chuckled and fetched the ribbons.

"So proper today."

"Lebl's nine now... No—I am nine now. All grown up."

I tilted my chin up haughtily, and the maids turned away, shoulders trembling.

Too much kid-acting made third-person stick to my tongue.

No more, no!

I'm nine—a full-fledged lady.

The past five years had been grueling. Tears blurred my days.

Living as a beggar had nearly erased my noble etiquette, so I endured Madame Compine's hellish training.

Now continental-level pushovers among the staff assaulted me with "You can skip today! Kids need playtime!"—but I studied silently.

The toughest was holy power training...

In my past life, I'd been a notorious holy power beggar, so actually wielding magic was new.

No temple priests to help, so Duvered's mages—hoods over their heads—pored over holy texts daily to teach me.

But as magic users, they couldn't fully grasp it, and failed holy spells sometimes scraped my knees.

Dad and brothers would explode every time.

Days of soothing their rampages—"Lebl sad if no mages"—while they threatened to behead them.

Remembering it all, I slumped with a weary face.

Then—

"They've arrived!"

The butler's bright voice rang out.

I hopped down and dashed out, maids trailing behind.

Heading to the gates, I spotted the returning Duvered knights—like a victory parade from the capital.

At the front rode a man on a sleek black horse with ash-gray mane.

Sturdy armor cradling his build, luxurious fur draping his shoulders.

More striking than his finery: his handsome features and icy intimidation.

"Dad!"

Dad, back from crushing the Kruger Kingdom—sparking the conquest of eleven barbarian realms and kingdoms.

Last year, the Empire—pinned down by allied magic knights' suicide blasts—begged Dad, who subjugated Kruger in just eight months.

In one year, the alliance surrendered at his feet.

"Squirt!"

"Leblain!"

My brothers, who'd fought alongside Dad, leaped from their horses and ran to me. I bolted toward them too.

Toward the brothers with arms wide...

—No, toward the war spoils crates.

I dove in without hesitation, rummaging wildly.

Waiting for the victory news and this day.

You brought it, right? Yeah? Didn't offer it to the Emperor?

My desperate search turned up a cloth pouch with exactly what I wanted.

Yes!

As I hugged it tight, the air around me chilled.

I glanced sideways slyly.

"First thing after a year apart..."

"...Our spoils get priority..."

My brothers stared with grim faces.