Chapter 28
The Prince Died, So We Start Over!
“Sati…?”
Judging by the expression of the Third Prince, it didn’t seem like it was him.
“Sahi….”
Not him either.
I quickly racked my brain.
I was certain I had memorized the Third Prince’s name at some point.
But no matter how hard I tried, his name just wouldn’t come to mind.
Wait, why? Wasn’t he the one who got hit on the head by the bandit, not me?
“See! You don’t know!”
The Third Prince burst into even more pitiful tears. His tear ducts seemed like an endless lake.
Perhaps from crying too much, his cheeks were flushed red and raw.
I thought his fever might rise even higher.
Shocked for a moment at the fact that I had completely forgotten the Third Prince’s name, I hurriedly started making excuses to comfort him.
“Well… sometimes, even if you’re close friends with someone, you just can’t remember their name for a day, right?”
“I’ve never had that happen!”
“Huh? How is that possible? Unless… you don’t have any friends…”
The Third Prince’s voice, which had been chattering so lively a moment ago, suddenly fell silent.
It seemed I had unintentionally hit a sore spot.
“…It’s okay. That can happen. I don’t have any friends here either.”
“…Fine!”
“It’s true. I’ve always only played with Your Highness anyway.”
Even though I had just spoken the truth, the Third Prince’s face flushed even redder.
He looked like a kettle boiling over—at this rate, I worried he might explode at any moment.
“May I take a look?”
I raised my hand and touched the Third Prince’s forehead.
His bulging forehead was scalding hot.
No wonder he had been acting up and down like this—he must have a fever and was rambling.
“I should call the healer.”
“…No need.”
“I’m not okay.”
The pair of eyes that refused to leave me were bloodshot.
I could never understand what made him so anxious, even during the previous bandit incident.
All I could determine was that the Third Prince needed some medicine and plenty of rest.
“…I wish you’d just hate me instead.”
As I moved to call a servant or attendant for the negligent Third Prince, he muttered softly in a tiny voice.
“Pardon? What did you say?”
Not sure if I heard him correctly, I asked again.
But the Third Prince didn’t answer.
He leaned against the bed, head lowered, silently.
‘…Better call the healer first.’
After a brief hesitation, I immediately grabbed the bell.
When I rang it, a nearby servant knocked on the door.
“Could you fetch the healer?”
“Yes, yes! I’ll bring them right away!”
The servant bowed politely and scurried off like he was running for his life.
A little later, the healer arrived at the Third Prince’s room.
By then, the Third Prince had already fallen asleep.
‘Aren’t you too late? Maybe I should dock some pay…’
I had an involuntary thought comparing them to the Luluphel family and was startled at myself.
“Good day, miss.”
As soon as I left the Third Prince’s room, someone called out to me.
Turning my head, I saw a familiar face—it was the personal attendant of Count Luluphel.
“Ah, hello.”
“My master asked me to bring you here. Could you spare a moment?”
“What is it about?”
The attendant remained silent even after I asked. Reluctantly, I had no choice but to follow him without knowing why.
Apparently, it was urgent—his pace was quick.
In the blink of an eye, we arrived at Count Luluphel’s room.
“Master, the young lady has arrived.”
“Come in at once!”
As soon as the door was knocked, Count Luluphel’s thunderous voice boomed.
The attendant flinched and stepped back.
I wondered why this short-tempered man was losing his temper again.
Even after living as Count Luluphel’s daughter for quite a while, I still had trouble adjusting to his hot-headed nature.
Probably never would.
I decided to free the scared attendant from this situation.
“You’ve done well. If you have other duties, you may leave.”
“Thank you!”
The attendant quickly scurried away. Left alone, I sighed and opened the door.
“Hariela! Why are you so late?”
The first thing I saw upon entering was Count Luluphel shaking his legs in a frenzy.
He looked extremely anxious.
“Good afternoon, Father.”
I greeted him politely, fearing he might nitpick.
But Count Luluphel barely acknowledged it.
“…Is something wrong?”
“Of course! Sit down! My beloved daughter, do you know what I heard last night?”
He seated me on the sofa and immediately began spilling everything like a tattling elementary schooler.
“…So about Count Osten.”
“Yes…?”
“…You know he also has a daughter your age, don’t you?”
“Yes…”
Ah, so that was why Count Luluphel looked like he was about to die—he had a reason.
He and Count Osten, one of his few friends or rivals, both had children of similar ages.
Last night, Count Luluphel shared drinks with Count Osten, a lord of a neighboring territory.
And there, he heard an utterly unexpected piece of news.
“That rascal’s daughter got invited to Lady Saliva’s tea party! Isn’t that ridiculous? Don’t you think so, Hariela?”
“Yes…”
Apparently, Count Osten’s daughter received an invitation to a tea party hosted by the Second Prince’s mother.
Count Luluphel and Count Osten had children of similar ages and always boasted about their children whenever they met.
Now, Luluphel thought it was his turn to boast—his youngest daughter was to be engaged to a prince, after all.
Everyone in the Luluphel household knew how much he loved showing off.
He had been waiting for an opportunity to boast, but the Third Prince’s incident had ruined it.
To make matters worse, Count Osten even boasted that his daughter had been invited to Asphodel Palace.
Count Luluphel was on the verge of losing his mind.
Previously, the Third Prince had mentioned that the Second Prince had recently broken off his engagement.
Under these circumstances, if the Second Prince’s mother hosted a tea party, what could it mean?
“…Don’t worry too much, Father.”
I patted him absentmindedly, reflecting on the past life.
In that life, Count Luluphel never became sick from envy over a friend’s good fortune.
“There’s no way that young lady will become the Second Prince’s fiancée.”
“Of course not!”
Count Luluphel shouted like an angry little dog.
Though furious, he still didn’t seem intimidating in the slightest.
Is it because of the Luluphel family’s signature pink hair? Perhaps this cute, lively hair undermined his authority.
I thought this and tried to comfort him lightly.
In the previous life, this never happened.
Even being invited to a tea party was a delicate matter—it was not the same as receiving a marriage proposal.
No one could predict the outcome, and it was far too early to boast.
Count Osten was a border lord protecting the western frontier of the empire.
For someone of his stature, boasting about a mere invitation was a bit ridiculous.
Clearly, Count Osten had been prematurely bragging, envious of Luluphel’s good fortune.
“Don’t just stand there! The engagement ceremony must go ahead as scheduled the day after tomorrow! Understood, Hariela?”
“Yes? But the Third Prince isn’t well yet.”
“He’s conscious, isn’t he? His leg isn’t broken. A half-day of mental strength should be enough!”
Count Luluphel was being unreasonable.
I explained again how hot the Third Prince’s forehead was, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Did the Third Prince ever say he wanted to postpone the engagement?”
“No? Not exactly…”
“Then it’s settled!”
Count Luluphel shouted as if a toothache had vanished.
“But Father! Perhaps His Highness is so preoccupied he has forgotten the engagement is the day after tomorrow!”
“Then you go and remind him!”
“Yes?”
“Yes! Seeing you, he’ll realize his embarrassment! Even though you’re from the same tree, he’s still lying in bed alone!”
Count Luluphel spouted nonsense.
I was so flabbergasted I missed the chance to refute him.
In the meantime, the impatient Count Luluphel grabbed a bell to summon a servant.
“My little kitten wants to go to the Third Prince’s room! Guide her!”
“No, wait, Father!”
“See you tomorrow, Hariela. I’m already excited to see how adorable you’ll be!”
“That’s not it!”
I tried to argue, but Count Luluphel didn’t even listen.
He lightly kissed my forehead and shooed me out of the room.
In the blink of an eye, I was left alone in the cold hallway.
