Chapter 6
How could I not be startled with Crown Prince Adrian de Felix—said to resemble the most beautiful empress in the Arkan Empire—standing right before me?
He was the beloved crown prince of the Empire, the legitimate son born of the Empress. Moreover, he was the one the sacred relic had pointed to as the next emperor.
Of course, Caron, blinded by ambition, had manipulated things—but the relic’s “choice” was him.
I’d heard that as a child he was frail and often went away to convalesce; I never imagined this would be the place.
And to think he was friends with Johan.
It made sense that rumors of him staying here hadn’t spread. The imperial family must have ordered secrecy.
Revealing the whereabouts of a prince who might become the next emperor was a grave crime.
Even so, I was rattled. I knew full well what awaited him.
This time, too, Caron would try to kill him to seize the throne.
Adrian held out a hand to me. I didn’t hesitate; I took it and rose.
“You said you’re a friend of Johan’s, right?”
Adrian’s eyes curved with satisfaction as he smiled at me. He was a man, but it wouldn’t be wrong to call him beautiful.
“So you finally believe me.”
“You said you’re Johan’s friend—so I’ll believe you.”
My gaze met the prince’s. He gave a playful, brazen smile.
“By the way, what kind of prayer were you saying at this hour?”
I’d hoped he hadn’t heard. My mind went blank, scrambling for an explanation that wouldn’t sound strange.
Aside from our voices, the night was still. As the silence stretched—because I couldn’t answer—someone else’s voice cut in.
“Who’s there! That sounded like it came from my sister’s room…”
“Damn. This will be trouble if Johan finds out.”
He hushed me—shh!—then flicked his hand. With nimble, silent steps he sprang toward the window.
Clinging to the frame, he glanced back at me.
“See you next time. And then you’ll owe me an answer.”
I nodded before I could think. Adrian smiled once more and vanished from the window.
I walked over and peered out. Frail, was he? What a lie.
Even if it was only the second floor, it was high enough to risk injury with a jump.
The crown prince had already disappeared without a trace. It felt like a dream.
Perhaps meeting the crown prince had been intended by the gods?
While I was lost in thought, a sound came from the door.
“Roblien, are you okay? Open up.”
The voice belonged to Johan Calix.
Before he could break the door down, I hurried to open it. He looked flushed and checked me over for any sign of trouble. Flustered, I blurted a stiff greeting.
“H-hello? I’m Roblien.”
Unlike me, Johan waved with easy warmth.
“Uh, hi. More importantly—did someone come in?”
“No. I just woke up early, that’s all.”
With a worried face, he searched every corner of my room. I let him look as much as he liked.
“I heard something while I was sleeping. It sounded like it came from your room. I was going to go out the window to check, but it was locked.”
The window… was locked?
Pfft!
I suddenly burst into laughter at the whole situation. The two of them were just too adorable.
“Roblien, are you sure you’re okay? You suddenly laughing is making this oppa a little scared.”
“Oppa…?”
“Well of course I’m your oppa. Ah, right—I never introduced myself. Hehe. I’m Johan Calix.”
Calling himself oppa, he held out a large hand that, despite his height, looked almost shy.
He seemed like he’d be disappointed if I didn’t take it, so I grabbed it at once. Delighted, Johan shook my hand vigorously.
“Rob, call me oppa from now on.”
I nodded. Before I knew it, he was using a nickname and chattering away. I simply listened.
Then Johan’s eyes narrowed to slits—suspicious.
“Op…pa?”
“Y-yeah?”
At the word oppa, Johan’s cheeks flushed pink. I pretended not to notice and asked a question instead.
“Um, by any chance… is someone staying at our house?”
“Ah, about that.”
He looked at me, clearly conflicted. I was about to tell him it was fine if he couldn’t say when he spoke first.
“Just keep this between us. The truth is, I’m friends with the First Prince, Adrian. He’s here under the pretext of convalescing—just visiting. He’s going back to the palace tomorrow morning.”
Feigning ignorance, I widened my eyes in feigned surprise.
“Adrian has his circumstances… And it’s a secret, so you can’t tell anyone else. Sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, then please let me meet him sometime. I’d like to.”
Johan paused, thinking, then squared his shoulders as if making a grave decision.
“Well, you’re my little sister. It should be fine. Okay. I’ll introduce you. Our Rob, just trust this oppa.”
“Th-thank you.”
He thumped his chest with a fist, telling me to leave it to him. Was such grand resolve necessary? I let it pass.
I looked quietly at Johan. Somehow, I felt I could never hate him no matter what he did.
“Oppa, thank you.”
When I thanked him sincerely, Johan made an odd face. He tapped the tip of my nose with a fingertip.
“Don’t thank me for stuff like that! You’re my one and only little sister. Don’t forget it, okay?”
A laugh escaped me before I knew it. Right. I, too, have an oppa.
Johan locked the window tight and, still worried, refused to go back to his room.
He insisted on staying until I fell asleep.
In the end, he lay down gripping my hand—and fell asleep first. I whispered,
“Thank you, oppa.”
Feeling the warmth of his hand around mine, my heart grew uneasy.
Before my regression, I believed I had to keep, deep in my heart, the responsibility that came with being heir to the sacred relic.
And I believed I had to show complete faith in the god who had helped me return to the past.
In the old days, I always carried such thoughts; I had been taught and raised that way. To me, they were natural.
I thought of the prince’s black cloth covering his sword that I’d hidden from Johan.
How much had he heard?
Too bright.
I wished someone would block that light.
Shrrk. Something rustled, and the pesky light vanished.
…Huh?
I blinked my eyes open, startled.
How long had I slept?
“Young lady, did you sleep well?”
Basha was sitting at the bedside, knitting. Johan, who had fallen asleep next to me, was already gone.
“What time is it?”
“It will soon be time for lunch.”
I’d slept this late?
Startled, I bolted upright. Unlike me, she stayed composed.
“I’ll have preparations made for your wash.”
At Basha’s clap, the waiting maids bustled into motion.
I followed where Basha led. She seemed to be a meticulous sort, minding every little detail.
“Not knowing what the young lady prefers, I prepared a variety. Please choose whatever pleases you.”
Clothes a girl my age would like were spread out before me in abundance.
It was dizzying—like she’d brought the whole world’s wardrobe.
I examined them one by one myself and chose the neatest, most modest-looking piece.
“I’ll take this one.”
She raised no objection to my choice. Come to think of it, how many times had I ever chosen my own clothes?
Memories of my time at the White Ducal House surfaced.
Back then I’d simply worn whatever was prepared. My opinion didn’t matter. I just accepted what I was given.
Suddenly, all this felt unfamiliar. While I was thinking that, Basha presented a jewelry box.
“These were sent especially by Young Master Raymon.”
Basha opened the box and showed me. Inside were a matching necklace and bracelet, a brooch, and a hair ornament.
Each piece was exquisitely crafted. Anyone could see they were works of a master artisan.
“Which would you like to wear?”
Having never owned jewelry before, I had no idea what to do.
“I… don’t really know.”
“Pardon? Ah—then would it be all right if I chose for you?”
“Yes, please.”
She took out a hair ornament set with rubies and diamonds. She braided my hair, tied it with a red ribbon, and finished it with the ornament.
Next, on the pale-violet dress that looked a bit plain, she pinned a large amethyst brooch encircled with gold filigree.
To be continued.
