Chapter 32
The Prince Died and Starts Over!
‘This has to be magic, right?’
The Third Prince’s silence dragged on.
Lying on my back, wiggling my feet, I began to let my imagination wander.
Based on all my experiences so far, every strange, unexplainable thing that happened around the Third Prince turned out to be caused by magic.
So this time, it had to be magic too.
‘But what kind of magic is it? A spell that makes you taller? Stronger? Or maybe healthier?’
A dozen theories floated through my head like bubbles.
I waited for the Third Prince to explain this mysterious phenomenon, but even after quite some time, he said nothing.
Come to think of it, he’d always been a secretive child.
Maybe he was struggling because it was something he couldn’t tell me.
‘…Maybe I should help steer the conversation away.’
After all, everyone has at least one secret they can’t share with others.
So did I.
If someone were to ask me, “Aren’t you actually not the real Harriella?” I would definitely panic and lose my composure too.
“Sigh…”
I let out a long breath, gazing at the Third Prince’s pale ankle — which looked even whiter from where I was sitting below.
“Your Highness, I think it would be best if you changed clothes first.”
“…What?”
The Third Prince, who had been staring blankly at the mirror as if he might step into it, turned to look at me.
He looked like he was about to burst into tears.
“Your clothes are far too small now. Aren’t you cold? You might get a fever if you stay like this.”
I stood up and brushed the dust off my skirt.
After straightening my outfit, I approached him.
Up close, I realized his eyes were now slightly higher than mine.
Until recently, he had always looked up at me — but now I had to look up at him. It felt oddly awkward.
“Please lie back down on the bed for now. I’ll bring you new clothes.”
“New clothes?”
“Yes. If we leave things like this, won’t people easily notice that you suddenly grew more than a hand’s length overnight?”
Of course, it was something that would eventually be discovered anyway.
But it was better to pretend his growth had happened gradually over several days rather than all at once.
Fortunately, the Third Prince had been bedridden for the past few days.
If we said he grew taller because he’d been sleeping so much…
‘Hmm, well, maybe only Anna would believe that…’
Still, what could we do about what had already happened?
For now, the best course was to hide the situation for as long as possible.
“Though, I’m worried,” I added. “Do we even have clothes that will fit you? We did have some looser garments made, but Your Highness has grown so much…”
“Among the clothes we brought from Asphodel…”
The prince trailed off mid-sentence.
He blinked his violet eyes.
“…The ceremonial robes.”
“Pardon?”
“What about the ceremonial robes?”
He looked at me anxiously.
“They won’t fit anymore, will they?”
“I doubt it.”
He had grown so much that the robes tailored for him three weeks ago surely wouldn’t fit now.
“Ah…”
A small sound escaped his lips.
“…Now that I think about it, the robes aren’t the only problem.”
Since his height had increased, his hands and feet must have grown too.
He began to worry about the gloves and shoes next.
Really? That’s what you’re worried about right now?
I stared at him in disbelief.
“Your Highness, you don’t need to worry so much. You can leave that to the attendants.”
“But it’ll be hard to make new clothes in just one day.”
“One day? …Ah!”
I suddenly realized — the prince didn’t yet know that I had decided to postpone the engagement ceremony.
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that! The engagement’s been delayed!”
“…Did Count Lurupel say that?”
“Nope. I decided it myself.”
He looked puzzled.
I just giggled and gently helped him lie back down.
Even though he had only been standing for a few minutes, his face had gone completely pale.
Poor thing — even while sick, he was worrying about the engagement!
Being a noble wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
I tucked the blanket snugly around him and picked up a handkerchief lying near the edge of the bed.
It was time to place a damp cloth on his forehead again.
“…Why are you delaying the engagement?”
But the prince wouldn’t let go of my sleeve.
“Because you’re unwell, of course.”
I replied casually, wetting the handkerchief with water from the jug.
This time, I made sure to wring it out properly.
“I’m fine now. I’ve recovered a lot.”
He said that with a face that clearly hadn’t recovered at all.
“You’ve recovered? Really?”
I placed the handkerchief on his burning forehead and raised an eyebrow.
Recovered, my foot — his skin was practically radiating heat.
“I’m really fine. I can attend the ceremony tomorrow without any trouble!”
He sounded desperate.
“Don’t be ridiculous. How could you attend an engagement with a fever like this?”
“It’s not that bad!”
“Oh please. At this rate, I could use you in place of the fireplace.”
The prince bit his flushed lip.
He looked as though he was about to cry, fidgeting with the edge of my sleeve.
The only reason he would lie so pathetically — not even Anna would believe this — had to be Count Lurupel.
I patted his soft hair, trying to comfort him.
“If you’re worried about my father, don’t be. Sure, he’s got a bit of a… nasty temper — no, fiery temper — but he’s not the type to hold grudges… well, not too much, anyway.”
I tried to soften my father’s reputation, but it was a lost cause.
“Anyway, it’ll be fine. I’ll handle things somehow.”
I ended my vague reassurance with a sigh.
“…That’s not it.”
Surprisingly, the Third Prince shook his head.
“Huh? Then what is it?”
Who else besides my father could he possibly be worried about in this small estate?
No matter how much I racked my brain, I couldn’t think of anyone.
“My mother…”
After a brief silence, he spoke softly.
I waited patiently for him to continue, but he hesitated again.
It seemed I would have to prompt the conversation myself.
‘Did he just say his mother?’
That rang a bell — I knew a little something about her.
“If this is about Lady Ramier, please don’t worry.”
“…What?”
“Unfortunately, she said she won’t be able to attend the engagement tomorrow.”
For a child who adored his mother as much as this prince did, that would surely come as a shock.
I spoke gently, trying to break the news as carefully as I could. But the atmosphere inevitably grew heavy.
“So it’s perfectly fine to postpone the ceremony until you recover. Who knows — by then, Lady Ramier might be able to attend and brighten the occasion.”
I did my best to cheer him up.
“…She won’t be coming then, either.”
He spoke in a quiet, sinking voice.
“…Because my mother is asleep.”
“I see…”
Perhaps Lady Ramier liked to sleep in late, I thought vaguely — but something told me that wasn’t what he meant.
I couldn’t just brush it off.
It had been only this morning that I’d regretted not learning more about Harriella’s background.
Maybe someday I’d regret not knowing more about the prince’s personal history too.
“…Is there something wrong with her?”
For the first time since becoming Harriella, I crossed a line I’d drawn for myself.
“…Yes.”
He nodded faintly and fell silent again.
Would it be too much to ask what exactly?
I hesitated, not wanting to hurt his sensitive heart.
“…Aren’t you curious about why I suddenly grew?”
Thankfully, he spoke again before my patience ran out.
“I am curious.”
“Then why haven’t you asked?”
“I wasn’t sure if it was something I was allowed to be curious about.”
He gave me a faint smile — I wasn’t sure what part of my words amused him.
“It seems, Lady Lurupel, that there’s nothing left I shouldn’t be curious about when it comes to you.”
His tone was weary, almost resigned.
“…So you’ll tell me?”
“Yes.”
His voice was a little hoarse as he began to explain.
It was both a story about himself and Lady Ramier — and about the Empire’s internal affairs.
To a frontier noble like me, it was all news I’d never heard before.
“Her Majesty the Empress fell ill with a mysterious disease — long before I was born.”
“Her Majesty? But I’ve never heard such a rumor.”
“That’s because it’s been strictly kept secret within the imperial family.”
The Empress had secretly summoned healers and priests to cure her illness, but none of them could ease her suffering.
“The only person whose treatment showed any effect was my mother.”
“So that’s how Lady Ramier earned Her Majesty’s trust…”
“Yes. Though calling it ‘trust’ may not be quite right — theirs was more a long-standing transaction than a bond.”
“I see…”
And just like that, the credibility of The Biography of Lady Ramier, written by the Countess of Lurupel, plummeted dramatically.
