Chapter 12
A third of the mages living in the Magic Tower were slaughtered.
In just a single night.
The rumor swept across the Empire in an instant, and Arwin became an object of both fear and awe overnight.
The Tower, with its drastically reduced numbers, appeared to have suffered a crippling blow to its power—but before long, mages from all corners, having heard the rumors, began to pour in.
According to word on the street, even reclusive mages who’d been living in seclusion all came running to register, causing the numbers to swell to nearly twice their original count.
That was the kind of person Arwin was in the novel.
In terms of magic alone, his combat power was the strongest in The Beast’s Flower.
If this were an online novel, he’d be ranked world number one.
Of course, in swordsmanship, Kennith was the strongest, so he too would be world number one, and if Londmio fought, he wouldn’t lose either—so that made him world number one as well.
It was like one of those Korean web novels where world ranks one, two, and three all live in the same country—in The Beast’s Flower, the top three on the continent were all concentrated in one Empire.
Honestly, this Empire might as well rename itself “Overpowered-as-Hell.”
What kind of absurd “casual gathering of the continent’s strongest” was this supposed to be?
“Latté, how’s the tea? Would you like another cup?”
Evelyn’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
Instead of answering right away, I stared at her face for a moment.
Yep, that’s right. Now that I think about it, the one who keeps all these number ones dangling in her fishpond and manages them… is you—the Continent’s Rank Zero.
And I… am the friend of that Rank Zero.
“No, I’m fine. The tea’s lovely. Smells great, too.”
My mood brightened instantly as I replied. It struck me anew how much of an unshakable shield the person before me was.
Yeah. My friend is the heroine of The Beast’s Flower—what could possibly go wrong?
Buoyed by that thought, I let go of my lingering regrets about Arwin without much effort.
If I stuck around Evelyn long enough, I’d naturally run into him again anyway.
Draining the last of my lukewarm tea with a cheerful grin, I heard Evelyn suddenly suggest taking a walk.
It was out of nowhere, but I obediently nodded and rose to follow her.
Trailing after Evelyn into the earl’s manor garden, I found the sunlight mingling with the greenery to be wonderfully refreshing.
As a rule, when the heroine suggests something, it’s best to just go along without fuss. That’s how you get to both watch the ritual and eat the rice cake, so to speak.
Just like now.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince?”
“Fancy meeting you here.”
The Crown Prince—whom I’d once searched for three days and nights in the palace gardens without so much as glimpsing a single hair—had suddenly appeared right here in Evelyn’s front yard.
I silently applauded in astonishment.
So it’s true—heroines really can get lost in their own backyard and still run into the male lead.
Evelyn recognized him; she knew who he was.
But, as with their first meeting, she showed no sign of being impressed. She looked as if she’d have reacted the same even if she’d run into the Crown Prince’s valet instead.
“What brings you here…?”
“I had business with the earl and stopped by.”
Londmio’s answer was brief.
The gaze he fixed on Evelyn still held curiosity and interest.
How long did it take for those eyes to shift from curiosity to affection again?
Right now, he was probably still in the “What, this woman’s really not interested in me? What’s her deal?” stage.
I studied the Crown Prince’s face closely.
Still ridiculously handsome.
It was a strangely compelling kind of face—the sort that made even someone like me, who’s no art student, want to grab a pencil and measure out the proportions.
How many men in this world had to be sacrificed to create that face?
One of them was probably meant to be my future partner, too… Oh, my poor, nonexistent man. My heart aches.
Maybe my mournful stare—infused with grief for a hypothetical man who might have existed—was a bit too intense.
The Crown Prince’s blue eyes rolled away from Evelyn and locked onto me instead.
I felt a flicker of puzzlement at the unexpected eye contact, just before he spoke.
“No wonder my face felt hot. What are you staring at me for—am I that handsome?”
I tilted my head slightly. What a dumb question.
Not because he was conceited, but because the answer was obvious. Who better than him to know that he’s blindingly handsome?
Well, considering he caught me staring, I suppose I should be thankful he didn’t just tell me to look away.
So I gave the only answer one could possibly give to such a predetermined question.
“Yes, you’re handsome. Your dazzling looks have blinded me—I can’t see a thing. I feel like I’ve gone blind. So… would the Imperial Family pay out insurance money if I filed a claim?”
I hadn’t exactly thought it through. I’d meant it as flattery, but my mouth had auto-generated the sentence and spat it out.
Instead of being pleased at my compliment, the Crown Prince looked… disgruntled.
It was the sort of expression that said, What the hell did I just hear?
Why? I’d just told him his beauty had literally blinded me—how was that not the highest praise? Was it the part where I asked for money?
Then it hit me.
Oh. Right. Maybe insurance payouts aren’t a thing here.
Come to think of it, I’d never paid any premiums to the Imperial Family.
Still, I’d paid my taxes faithfully—though I guess that’s unrelated.
At any rate, the words were already out, so I rolled my eyes halfway and tried to let the moment pass in silence.
If I went on rambling about insurance, his expression would only get worse. Best to just shut my mouth.
Ugh. I really shouldn’t have made that dumb joke.
Londmio’s This-one’s-a-weird-one gaze didn’t last long.
I could tell that whatever image of me he’d just formed wasn’t flattering.
Ha… my life.
“…Were you out for a walk?”
“Yes.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Yes.”
His attention shifted back to Evelyn.
She gave short, polite answers to each question.
Another one came.
“What’s your relationship?”
He meant between me and Evelyn.
“Friends,” she replied calmly.
I clapped a hand over my mouth in a small wave of emotion. Her answer felt like the notification pop-up confirming I had officially completed the “Become Friends with the Heroine” quest. Pride and relief washed over me.
I dedicate this honor to the street punks and to Arwin.
Just then, the Crown Prince dumped a bucket of cold water on my sense of accomplishment.
“Why?”
…This guy! Why what? What’s so strange about me and Evelyn being friends?
All that just because I cracked one joke? How dumb do you think I am?
I inwardly scolded him for having such a closed mind.
Don’t think you can judge a person’s entire character based on one quip, you jerk.
“…Ahem. Forget it. I take that back.”
“….”
“But it’s a pleasure to meet you again. Your name is…?”
“Evelyn Dote.”
“Yes, Evelyn. I’m very glad to see you again.”
So he did have some sense of propriety—he retracted his comment, then promptly tried a pick-up line on her.
Never mind the cheesiness of the words—the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled was enough to snag anyone’s attention.
Wow. Damn.
I’d suspected it when he pulled off that subtle smirk earlier, but the impact of his voice was beyond imagination.
The gentle fold of his eyes could probably charm even men.
But even that devastating smile hit Evelyn’s ironclad wall without making a dent.
“I’m honored, Your Highness.”
“You can speak comfortably.”
“I… must decline, Your Highness.”
She lowered her head in polite refusal, showing neither shyness nor pleasure.
The Crown Prince frowned slightly, apparently not thrilled by her “playing hard to get”—as he must have seen it—then turned his gaze on me.
What! Why are you looking at me now?
“Her reaction’s so stiff. Usually it’s different, isn’t it?”
“…?”
“What’s your name?”
“Latté Ecktry, Your Highness.”
“well. Latté. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He’d asked my name out of nowhere, only to give me the exact same line he’d used on Evelyn.
So he wanted me to show him the “usual” reaction instead of a cold shoulder?
Feeling like an example in a textbook, I forced my brow to smooth out.
It was a ridiculous request, but not a hard one. I could humor him.
Alright, let’s see…
An insanely handsome man tells me, a stranger, that he’s glad to meet me.
A walking sculpture. Filthy rich, too. And he says he’s happy to meet me…
I made my choice.
And winked at the Crown Prince.
Wink.
“…”
“…”
…Not it?
The silence that fell between us was heavier than before.
In hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the “usual” reaction.
Right. Noble ladies are supposed to be shy—that’s considered a virtue. Why do these realizations always come after the fact?
The belated embarrassment made me avert my eyes again.
Though, if you had a bold personality, it could be a plausible reaction… maybe. No, probably not.
The Crown Prince glanced between me and Evelyn, then took a step back as if to leave.
In the original story, this was about the time he exited anyway—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d somehow made it happen earlier.
I bowed to him, curious yet unwilling to know exactly what kind of impression I’d made.
That’s when it happened.
Rustle—snap!
Something darted out from the bushes near Evelyn.
Almost simultaneously, the Crown Prince pulled her into his arms to shield her, and the intruder stepped into the sunlight.
Flick.
Its ears stood straight up, its nose twitching, whiskers quivering.
A rabbit.
An undeniably small and adorable rabbit.
What was a rabbit doing here? Was keeping them in garden fashion in The Beast’s Flower?
The sight sparked a bit of nostalgia in me.
Still—a rabbit? The Crown Prince’s overreaction made him look ridiculous, as if a monster or assassin had appeared instead.
Was there an event like this in the original?
I couldn’t recall, but one thing was certain—I really wanted to tease him.
I wanted to. I had to.
I couldn’t resist.
“Kyaa! A ferocious predator rabbit! What’s it doing here?!”
“…”
“Phew, that was close. Thank you for saving my friend’s life, Your Highness.”
That much should be fine, right?
I smiled slyly at him, remembering how generous he’d been toward the heroine’s people.
“…Ahem.”
And my memory was right.
He didn’t order it dragged off for execution, nor draw the sword at his hip.
He only gave a cough that was part embarrassment at the situation, part annoyance at my needling.
Compared to Kennith—who’d have been yelling and swinging his sword by now—it was an astonishing display of mercy.
Granted, what I’d just done to the Crown Prince was nothing like what I’d done to Kennith, but still—he was treating me with downright heavenly leniency.
Yes, that was it. In the novel, Londmio was the most generous of the heroine’s fish toward her acquaintances.
When he pursued someone, he made sure to win over everyone around them too—like a man who’d also butter up his girlfriend’s brother, sister, and friends.
The problem, of course, was that his looks were so devastating that a single smile would make the heroine’s friends fall for him more than intended.
Come to think of it, the noblewoman who’d been Evelyn’s “friend” in the original had betrayed her midway—and it had all started with him.
If only this man hadn’t smiled at her like that.
Ah… the sins of a beautiful fish.
