Chapter 39
“The Prince Died, So I’m Starting Over!”
“Me, Your Highness? Why me?”
“I once tried to arrange an engagement directly with Count Lurupel, excluding Lady Lurupel herself… and, well, I also forced her into a rather troublesome situation.”
“Wow! You knew about that?”
When I clapped my hands in admiration, the Third Prince immediately wilted again.
I had to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside me.
Hearing his words reminded me of the first time I met him.
Back then, he was a boy whose thoughts were impossible to read—sometimes even irritatingly so.
But it had only been a few weeks since then, and the Third Prince had changed a lot.
Now, at least in front of me, he was honest. And I no longer felt uncomfortable around him.
I could treat him like… well, like a much younger little brother.
“This is actually a secret, but… I once planned to make Your Highness pay dearly someday.”
“R-Really?”
“Yes. But I’ve just decided to give up on that.”
“…Why is that?”
“Because I liked the flower you gave me!”
Then it hit me—why I couldn’t stop glancing at that ruined pansy.
“It’s not very pretty anymore, though.”
“But it’s a flower Your Highness picked yourself, just for me, isn’t it?”
“…How did you know that?”
“I saw your hand. You didn’t even notice the scratch on the back of it, did you?”
The Third Prince blinked and looked down at his own hand in confusion.
This time, I couldn’t hold back my laughter.
Even as we were talking, that shabby little pansy kept tugging at my thoughts.
Probably because, without realizing it, I’d sensed the truth—that the prince had gone to the garden himself and picked the flower for me.
I could picture him crouched in front of a flower bed full of pansies, completely absorbed in choosing just the right one, not even noticing when he’d hurt his hand.
All because he wanted to give me the prettiest flower.
Suddenly, he seemed so endearing.
“Thank you. It’s the most beautiful flower I’ve ever received!”
I smiled brightly as I said it.
The Third Prince couldn’t take his eyes off me.
Looking at him reminded me of my childhood.
When I was little, I used to buy cheap five-thousand-won carnation pots for Parents’ Day. Looking back, it was such a shabby gift it would’ve been better not to give anything.
But my mom and dad were always delighted anyway.
They’d say that keeping dried flowers in the house wasn’t good luck, yet they’d leave those wilted little carnations by the front door until every petal had crumbled away.
Now I thought I finally understood how they’d felt.
Because I wanted to place this tattered pansy right in the middle of my room, too.
Yes—this warm, fluttery feeling had to be what it felt like to be appreciated by your own child.
…Even if it wasn’t my child.
“I’ll be right back to my room! Before the flower gets any worse!”
The Third Prince was still staring at me like he was in a trance.
I felt like I had to show him just how much I liked his gift.
Clutching the pansy bundle, I quickly left his room.
My own was just a door away, so it wasn’t far.
Once I got there, I grabbed the vase on my table, took out the unremarkable flowers that had been in it, threw them in the trash, and placed the pansies inside instead.
‘They’re… well, pretty damaged, but maybe they can still be saved.’
I decided to ask Anna in the morning how to properly care for them.
Setting the vase somewhere visible, I started walking back toward the prince’s room.
Then, something occurred to me, and I stopped mid-step.
‘His cheeks were really red earlier…’
His flushed face and hot hands still lingered in my mind. Maybe I should bring him another blanket just to be safe.
So I grabbed the blanket from my bed, rolled it up, and carried it over to his room.
“Your Highness! …Oh? Already asleep?”
I’d only been gone a few minutes, but the Third Prince was already fast asleep, looking almost lifelessly still.
It was easy to picture him closing his eyes for just a moment and then dozing off without realizing it.
Careful not to wake him, I gently spread the extra blanket over him.
“Mm…”
The thick blanket must’ve been heavy—he frowned slightly in his sleep.
I stroked his forehead softly with my thumb.
And soon enough, the Third Prince was sleeping peacefully again, his face serene like an angel’s.
Watching him made me sleepy, too. A yawn slipped out.
“I should go back to my room…”
But even as I said it, I didn’t move. I didn’t want to return to my bed without a blanket.
“I’ll just ask a servant to bring me a new one…”
On my way, I’d turn off the lamp, close the door I’d left open when I brought the blanket, and then…
A list of small tasks piled up in my head—but my body ignored every single one.
“…Maybe I’ll just sleep for an hour.”
After a brief internal debate, I chose to follow my body instead of my brain.
Thankfully, the prince’s bed was big enough for three grown men.
And he was sleeping way over on one edge.
‘It’s fine if I borrow just a little space, right?’
I lifted the corner of the blanket and quietly crawled in.
I knew I really shouldn’t—but the bed was just too tempting.
Just one hour. That was the plan.
I had no intention of getting caught by Anna and scolded.
Really, just one hour…
Yes. Exactly one hour…
There are mistakes we make again and again, even knowing better.
Like when you say, “Just ten more minutes,” in the morning.
The moment you say it, being late is practically guaranteed.
“Hehe…”
“You’re laughing about this?”
“Well, I can’t exactly cry…”
Needless to say, my promise last night had been just another “ten more minutes.”
One hour? Not even close.
I slept sprawled across the Third Prince’s bed until Anna came to wake me the next morning.
“Honestly! You could’ve at least said something!”
Anna was grumbling, clearly exasperated.
This morning, when she’d come in to wake me like usual, she’d nearly screamed upon finding my bed empty—along with my blanket.
“Good thing I left the door open…”
That was the only thing I could say. Even if I had ten mouths, I wouldn’t have had a good excuse.
“Why on earth were you sleeping in His Highness’s room?”
“Uh… well, it just kind of happened…?”
“Oh no you don’t! Don’t brush this off! You’d better tell me the real reason so I can stop worrying!”
Hands on her hips, Anna tried her best to look stern—though she didn’t look scary in the slightest.
When I just smiled silently and said nothing, she started guessing on her own.
A few moments later, her eyes went wide, as if she’d made some grand discovery.
“Wait…!”
“Wait what?”
“Were you scared to sleep alone because the room felt too big?”
“No… I’m not a child…”
“So you were scared! Oh, it’s my fault. I should’ve stayed with you!”
I shook my head, but she clearly didn’t believe me.
Anna looked close to tears.
She insisted that from now on she’d sleep on the floor in my room so I wouldn’t have to be alone.
An offer I found… not remotely comforting.
“You’ll ruin your back sleeping on the floor…”
“It’s fine! I’m practically indestructible! I can’t even remember the last time I got sick!”
“Lucky you… But, uh, Anna…”
“Yes?”
“I think I might be just a little sick right now…”
My voice was weak, my vision a little blurry—and apparently, it wasn’t just my imagination.
The longer I talked to Anna, the more my body trembled and my skin burned.
“Oh heavens! My lady!”
When I suddenly slumped over the table, Anna panicked and rushed to my side, touching my forehead, cheeks, and neck in quick succession.
“Oh no… You’ve got a terrible fever! I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner…!”
Her lips were close to my ear, but her voice sounded far away, muffled like it was echoing from under a lake.
Through my hazy vision, I could see her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
It’s okay, Anna. I used to be practically a corpse without my health too…
I tried to say it—but I never knew if I actually did.
Because the world faded to black right after that.
I ended up bedridden for five days.
During my feverish delirium, only a few people crossed the threshold of my room.
The ones who visited most often were the Count and Countess Lurupel.
They had originally come early in the morning to scold their youngest daughter—for showing up to the engagement ceremony in a dress so short her ankles were visible.
But seeing me sick and bedridden changed their minds.
They remembered that little Hariela had always been frail as a child.
And they realized that a reckless, energetic daughter who caused trouble was far better than one who might die quietly at any moment.
After all, you can’t even make trouble unless you’re healthy.
Leaving with gentle words, they told me they would forgive any mischief I caused—as long as I stayed well.
The next most frequent visitor was none other than the young Archduke…
