Chapter 33
The Prince Dies and Starts Over!
“Has Her Majesty the Empress recovered her health?”
“Unfortunately, no. Because…”
The Third Prince trailed off, lowering his gaze. He looked dejected.
My eyes happened to fall on the edge of my sleeve. A few threads were fraying from the hem — the sleeve that had been perfectly fine just a few hours ago. The prince had been nervously fiddling with it the entire time.
“…Because no matter how great a witch may be, magic can’t heal people.”
He continued solemnly.
“What? But didn’t you say Her Majesty showed improvement?”
“…When I was young, my mother often told me that magic is convenient, but never perfect.”
Even after living in this world for years, I still wasn’t used to talk of magic or witches.
And what the prince was saying now — it was something I’d never heard before.
I couldn’t help but listen closely.
“There’s no magic that can cure a person’s illness.”
“I see…”
“But there is magic that transfers one’s life force to another.”
His words struck me like a thunderbolt.
“D-Do you mean Lady Ramiel gave her life force to the Empress?”
“Yes.”
“But even if she wanted to form a bond with Her Majesty, that’s far too much to sacrifice—”
I stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing the truth.
My eyes widened as I looked at the prince.
He nodded faintly.
“Yes. It was because of me.”
The Emperor’s favor for Lady Ramiel had been fleeting.
Their relationship had been doomed from the start — the fickle affection of nobles rarely lasted long.
But Lady Ramiel, a fallen noblewoman who’d grown up almost like a commoner, hadn’t known that.
Unprepared and alone, she’d been thrust into a harsh world.
In the imperial palace, with no one to rely on and a newborn in her arms, she had few choices.
“My mother gave up her life to protect me. She sleeps in a deep slumber now because her life force is nearly gone.”
“Then, Your Highness is learning magic to…”
“Yes. To share my life force with her.”
It was a story that could move anyone to tears.
He deserved a monument of filial piety or something.
The secret the Third Prince had kept hidden was deeply touching.
I couldn’t help but compare him to my real cousin back home — a twenty-three-year-old man who still complained about beans in his rice.
Thinking of that ungrateful brute made the prince seem even more admirable.
“My sudden growth spurt must be because Mother’s protective magic weakened.”
“Ah! You mean the magic that blurs people’s perception of you?”
“Yes, that must be it. I didn’t know it also concealed my growth, though.”
A faint, bitter smile touched his lips.
For the first time, I truly wanted to help him.
“All right. I’ll help you!”
“You’ll… help me?”
“Yes. I mean, I’m not exactly some genius, but isn’t it better to work together than struggle alone?”
I spread my fingers in front of him.
“See? I can do more than just stand watch. I can bring new spellbooks into the archives, or find a good place for you to practice magic. And…”
I folded my fingers one by one, listing all the things I could do.
Actually, there were quite a few.
Unlike the prince, I didn’t have to worry about the servants watching me.
“Well? Pretty useful, right?”
“Yes, very reassuring.”
“So don’t worry and focus on resting for now. I’ll persuade my father.”
“You’ll persuade Count Lurupel?”
“Yes. Believe it or not, I’m the best in the world at breaking my father’s stubbornness.”
Count Lurupel had a temper, but he was all bark and no bite.
If I put my mind to it, bending him to my will was easy.
“I see. Impressive.”
“Right? There’s nothing I can’t do.”
The prince seemed genuinely impressed.
My pride swelled a little.
“But the ability I need right now isn’t one that can persuade your father.”
“Huh? Then what?”
“The ability to persuade you, Lady Lurupel.”
“L-Lady Lurupel… wait, me?”
What did I do?
I blinked at him, confused.
His cheeks were faintly flushed again — perhaps because his handkerchief had dried and lost its cooling effect.
Ahem.
He cleared his throat unnecessarily.
“I must hold the engagement ceremony tomorrow.”
“What? Why?”
“Because of Lady Saliva. Do you perhaps remember my servant — the one with narrow eyes and a mole near his lips?”
He tapped his chin to indicate the location of the mole.
He must have assumed I never remembered anyone’s name.
Of course I remembered that rude servant — and even his name. At first, it had been confusing because it was so common, but eventually, it stuck in my head.
Honestly, he was so annoying it would’ve been weirder not to remember.
But I couldn’t admit that.
If I remembered the servant’s name but not the prince’s, he’d probably be crushed.
“Ah… um, An… Anthony? Or, uh… maybe Andrew…? I kind of know, kind of don’t…”
So I pretended not to know.
The prince nodded knowingly, as if expecting that.
“It’s Andrew. …But his name isn’t important. You can forget it.”
“Sure… already forgotten.”
“I’m talking about the servant who always waited for me outside the archives.”
“Oh, that one! I know who you mean, even if I don’t remember his name. Anyway, what about him?”
I’d rather talk about anything than names.
Now that I thought about it, the prince might be the only person whose name I didn’t know properly.
I knew Anna’s, Sir Peter’s, and now Andrew’s.
The prince graciously ignored my attempt to change the subject.
“He works for Lady Saliva.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. His family has served the Saliva Dukedom for generations.”
“Ahh, that explains it…”
No wonder he was so arrogant for a mere servant. With Lady Saliva backing him, he had reason to be.
Lady Saliva was the Second Prince’s mother — and the beloved younger sister of Duke Saliva himself.
According to Countess Lurupel, she was the perfect example of an arrogant noblewoman.
I’d read about her infamous cruelty toward Lady Ramiel in The Biography of Lady Ramiel, written by the countess.
Within the cold palace, Lady Saliva had tormented Ramiel the most.
“He may look like an ordinary servant, but in truth, he’s been spying on me — reporting my every move to Lady Saliva.”
“I see…”
I suddenly remembered what the Count and Countess had said: that since the Empress and Crown Prince were alive, the Third Prince would never be involved in succession struggles.
They’d been completely wrong.
Utterly and disastrously wrong.
The prince hadn’t just been caught up in a power struggle — he’d fled here to Lurupel to escape it.
Really, with three princes born of different mothers, how could there not be a fight for the throne?
Even considering Lurupel’s provincial isolation, they were shockingly ignorant of court politics.
Perhaps that was precisely why the prince had chosen to come here.
“I’d rather not draw attention to myself.”
“Understandable…”
“So I want to proceed with the engagement as planned.”
“Alright…”
“Can I count on you?”
He looked up at me, his eyes still faintly red from the heat.
After hearing such a confession, how could I possibly say no?
I sighed.
“…It seems Your Highness already has the ability to persuade Lady Lurupel.”
At that, the Third Prince broke into a bright smile.
After finishing my talk with him, I returned to my room and called for Anna.
“No! Absolutely not!”
Anna, usually so calm, was unusually firm in her refusal.
“Oh, come on, Anna! I might become the trendsetter of the western province!”
“Tren… what? What’s that? No, wait—never mind! Either way, no!”
She clutched my yellow dress to her chest as if I were trying to snatch away her child.
“Showing your ankles? That’s something only uncultured people do!”
She shrieked as though the sky were about to fall.
Who knew that shortening an engagement dress would be this difficult?
Beads of sweat formed on my forehead.
Sigh… Why doesn’t this world have proper tailors?
I couldn’t help but let out a weary sigh.
The people of this world really had no sense of sewing.
