CHAPTER 42
The day I was informed that the Forest of Darkness would be the subject of the wager—as a consequence of meddling with Adix Lordburg.
I had clearly written to Dmitri in a letter:
“A herb has been discovered in the Forest of Darkness that may alleviate the symptoms of the Second Princess’s illness. Please send aid with a palace physician (one trained by the Imperial Court) and military support.”
And yet—
“Did the Regent say nothing? About investigating the herb?”
“Well…”
The man scratched his head uneasily and faltered. His eyes darted around as he explained the situation.
“Regent Dmitri ordered the investigation of the herb per Your Highness’s letter. However, there was… significant resistance. No one volunteered to examine the herb…”
He bowed his head in shame.
‘Well… I suppose that’s not too surprising…’
Back then, I still didn’t have many supporters. Plus, the fact that the herb came from the Forest of Darkness didn’t help.
That forest was overrun with magical beasts. Over fifty people went missing there annually.
When nutrients ran low, those monsters would lure in people and abduct them. That’s why the number of disappearances never dropped—instead, it kept increasing steadily.
The problem was, most of the missing were merchants or travelers from the Kosaren region…
‘Since Kosaren depends on the forest for sustenance, forcibly closing it isn’t an option. So their hesitation makes sense.’
But now? Things had changed.
Now that I’d returned from the Magic Tower with orichalcum, no one dared oppose me.
‘This is going to get interesting.’
I grinned slyly and looked up at Reynold and the man.
“I’ll take full responsibility for the investigation. Tell the Regent I’ll be the one to calm Yevgeny’s seizures.”
“Y-Your Highness…?”
“Yes. Normally, I’d leave it to the Regent. But he’s busy, isn’t he? As family, it’s only right to lighten his burden. So, where’s the herb being stored?”
“A-As instructed, in a cool, dark place with no light exposure…”
“So, the basement. Let’s go.”
“Ah—yes! Your Highness, w-wait for me!”
The man rushed after me. I turned and asked,
“By the way, your name?”
“D-Delan Sorcier, of the Viscount Sorcier household.”
Sorcier?
I blinked wide-eyed.
“You mean the famous family of physicians? Weren’t your ancestors the Imperial Physicians for generations?”
Delan Sorcier blushed and scratched the back of his head.
“Y-Yes, that’s correct. My father currently serves as His Majesty’s Imperial Physician.”
“Then you must be the heir…”
“I’m the successor to the family title, yes. My older brother is set to inherit the physician position. I wasn’t very gifted in healing arts.”
“Ah.”
So that’s why he was assigned to herb storage.
‘In that case…’
“Do you at least know basic healing? If you’re knowledgeable in pharmacology, can you prepare medicine?”
“I know a bit, but my brother is far more versed. Why do you ask…?”
Because he’s from the Sorcier household.
‘The one who will weaken Yevgeny’s seizures and eventually cure her entirely.’
To me, he is someone who once strangled my chances—and the very person who would pave the way for my success.
I chuckled to myself, then masked it with a polite smile.
“Didn’t your brother say he wanted a fast track into the Imperial Medical Office?”
“H-He did, but the competition is fierce. This year, there are so many brilliant candidates, he’s almost given up.”
“Then tell your brother this.”
“Yes?”
“If he wants to become an Imperial Physician, come visit my palace.”
“P-Pardon?”
“Now, let’s go to the herb storage.”
I hummed cheerfully, and Delan Sorcier followed with a tilted head.
One month left until the banquet. The medicine couldn’t be made until afterward.
‘Yevgeny just needs to hold on until then.’
It was pitiful—she’d barely gotten out of bed, and now she was bedridden again.
Trying hard to suppress my smile, I headed to where the herb was kept—the one that would cure Yevgeny: Nocturne.
* * *
The banquet drew near.
Letters from those I’d invited under my name filled the room, along with messages from nobles summoned before the Emperor was injured.
Mullin whispered as he approached while I was reading a letter.
“Your Highness, I just returned from Princess Yevgeny’s palace. According to Lanya and Blemie, she’s still burning with fever and can barely sip water.”
“Hmm, really?”
“Yes. And she’s been desperately asking for His Majesty… If he finds out, he may be displeased with Your Highness…”
Even if he did, the nobles would shield me.
I shrugged, and Mullin’s face remained full of concern.
But for now, the banquet took priority.
‘It’s a joyous day. I won’t let news of her dirty my mood.’
I was smiling when several carriages entered the Emerald Hall.
Mullin commented as we watched them arrive.
“Those must be early guests. They’re likely here with gifts to curry favor. Shall I tell Sir Cecil to turn away any attempts at bribery?”
I narrowed my eyes in thought, then shook my head.
“No, actually, it’s perfect. It’s a chance to flaunt how far I’ve risen. And I personally invited these people—no need to stop them.”
Mullin clapped in admiration.
“As expected of Your Highness—always two steps ahead.”
“Aren’t you glad you switched sides?”
“To be honest… yes. Very much.”
He scratched his head awkwardly just as—
“Your Highness, a guest has arrived. May I let them in?”
Cecil’s voice came through the door. Mullin and I exchanged knowing glances.
“Yes, let them in.”
As the door opened, a refined lady in a modest gown gracefully entered, bowing.
Her soft brown hair was neatly braided, and her serene blue eyes crinkled like crescent moons.
“Lady Beysa Iolin greets Princess Lirien Sha Kaliberg, First Princess. May Aeliridium’s blessing be upon you.”
She was the first guest to seek a favor.
“Did you receive the handkerchief I sent? I selected it after much deliberation. I thought it suited Your Highness well.”
“So you’re taking my handkerchief as your own, Madam?”
“Shamefully, yes. I decided it myself. Is that unacceptable?”
She chuckled softly, a faint blush on her cheeks. I replied with a smile,
“Not at all.”
Lady Beysa smiled warmly.
“I heard that while waiting for your reply, Your Highness achieved something remarkable.”
“Indeed, that’s why I extended this invitation. It was under my name, so please don’t take offense.”
“Offense? On the contrary, I’m surprised and honored. So, Your Highness…”
She stepped forward and bowed again.
“May I ask for your support in establishing myself in society?”
Ah, so that’s her favor.
An opportunity to build connections—eventually rising in social circles to help her husband enter central politics.
‘Sympathetic on the surface, but burning with ambition underneath.’
But unfortunately—
“I’m sorry. I can’t accept your request.”
I already had a godmother in mind.
Someone powerful enough to keep the Empress and her family in check. Still, I extended my hand to Beysa Iolin.
“But may I propose something else instead?”
“A proposal?”
“Yes. It could benefit us both.”
Like—
“An alliance, perhaps?”
“…An alliance?”
Beysa was momentarily stunned. I nodded innocently.
“Yes! An alliance.”
I hoped Yevgeny would unravel on her own—and she wanted her husband to rise in politics.
It was a mutually beneficial relationship.
For someone who was once Yevgeny’s ally.
After Beysa left, many noble families visited my palace as Mullin had predicted.
They brought extravagant gifts and offered all kinds of proposals. I was exhausted after rejecting hundreds, if not thousands, of requests.
As I lay down, Ilia approached with a cool glass of orange juice.
“You must be thirsty, Your Highness. I saw some finger food in the kitchen. Would you like some?”
“Yes, thank you. Dealing with people makes me hungry.”
I nibbled on the canapés Ilia brought when—
Knock, knock—
Someone knocked on the door.
“Who could it be now?”
“I’m not sure.”
Should I let them in?
I signaled Ilia, and she walked to the door.
Her eyes widened the moment she opened it.
“Oh…?”
“G-Good day.”
“Y-Yes…? Oh, hello…?”
A boy greeted her with a sly smile. Judging by his height, he looked 14 to 16 years old. With narrowed eyes, he bowed deeply.
“I greet Princess Lirien Sha Kaliberg. I am Jerron Idrea, heir of the Marquess Idrea. It’s an honor to meet Your Highness.”
…?
I never invited this boy…
‘Did His Majesty invite him? But what would House Idrea want from me…?’
Normally, parents come to request favors—not children.
And wasn’t Jerron supposed to be 12 years old at this point?
But he was way too tall to be 12.
As I stared blankly, his light brown hair swayed, and golden eyes—not unlike the Emperor’s—curved into crescents.
He approached and extended his hand.
Unthinkingly, I accepted. He gently held my hand and brushed a kiss across the back of it, whispering close to my ear.
“Forgive the boldness, but I am not here to ask a favor, Your Highness.”
“Pardon?”
“I came to make an impression on you.”
He gripped my hand tighter. I stared at him, stunned.
“Young Lord…?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“…What are you—”
Before I could finish, he leaned closer and whispered again.
“I told you.”
His breath was warm against my ear. I tried to back away—
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing—! …Gasp, Y-Young Duke Eliette…!”
From the half-open door, a familiar face appeared.
It was—
“What sort of indecency is this, Lord Jerron Idrea?”
Richard, absolutely seething with rage.
Jerron smirked provocatively.
“I simply wanted to leave a lasting impression, Young Duke.”
This was overwhelming.
“….”
I couldn’t even breathe.
“Leave. Now.”
The tension was suffocating.
“I merely wanted to speak with Her Highness, nothing more.”
I sighed heavily. Why were these boys like this?
As I held my head, I recalled how it had all begun.
Right after Jerron whispered in my ear, Richard had lunged to kick him—but Jerron pulled me into his arms to dodge.
Caught in the middle, I clutched my head, dazed, while Mullin cried out in panic.
“Y-Young Duke Eliette! This is the Princess’s palace!”
“Get that bastard away from her!”
“A-Ah! Lord Jerron, please release the Princess—!”
“Why should I?”
“Excuse me?”
“What?”
Mullin and Richard stared at Jerron in disbelief as I struggled in his grip.
‘How is he so strong? Is he really twelve?!’
Then Jerron whispered again.
“Your Highness, if you squirm like that, it gets hard for me.”
“Then let me go.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Well I do…!”
And why was he provoking Richard with me like some kind of prize?
‘And Richard, why are you letting yourself be provoked?’
If not for Cecil’s timely intervention, my palace might’ve been reduced to ruins.
Still glaring at the two boys, I finally shouted:
“Both of you—
Get. Out.”
