Youngest 203
by CristaeEpisode 203
Startled, I sat up.
“Damn it.”
What is this!
I hurriedly kicked off my blanket, ran over, and swept aside the curtains.
The sun was just beginning to cast its pale light, birds chirped peacefully outside, and I could hear the shouts of the knights in training, as usual.
It was an ordinary morning at the Duke Zevert’s residence, nothing out of the ordinary.
“What a dream…”
My body slumped down onto the floor.
How could a dream feel so wretchedly real?
‘What was that?’
My fingertips felt cold.
‘I’m sure it was a dream from the original story.’
That is… the point in time after Leviathan Zevert was killed—the perspective of the “Seventh,” perhaps?
And that dreadful man who appeared at the end—
‘Anyone could tell it was Khalid’s voice.’
Was it because I received Khalid’s mana before bed? Why would I suddenly dream of something like that…?
‘Could this dream be from the second part of Sword Planted on the Ruins?’
In my previous life, I’d only read the first episode of the second part before dying, so I had no idea what happened next.
‘But why the perspective of the Seventh, of all things?’
Is it possible for an unwitnessed part of the original story to surface like this, of its own accord?
‘…Maybe it was just a random dream.’
I had no way of knowing. As I rubbed my dry face, my eyes fell on the back of my hand.
The crest of the Mage Kingdom, grown long and dark.
Suddenly feeling uneasy, I hurried to the mirror and checked the mark on my lower back once more.
Same size and shape as ever.
I swallowed hard.
‘Once I’ve finished the coming-of-age ceremony today, I should go to the Zelox Memorial.’
I was certain the final clue would be there.
My suspicion now became conviction.
In the dream—
The place where Leviathan died had been the memorial.
The formula Khalid brought was incomplete in some way, so no matter how I considered it, there was no answer but there.
But more pressing—
“Damn, what a foul mood! Of all days!”
It was my birthday!
I recalled the crumbled piece of cake seen in my dream from the perspective of the “Seventh.” The “Seventh” had never tasted cake in the original story.
An inexplicable impulse of defiance stirred within me.
‘I’m going to eat as much as I want.’
Two layers, three layers—I’ll devour them all!
With that resolve, I slapped my cheeks briskly.
Then, composing myself, I pulled on an overcoat and took a few deep breaths.
Actually, I’d sensed a bustle outside my door since earlier. Every year on my birthday morning, it was the same routine.
I calmly opened the door. And, right on cue—
Pop! Bang!
A shower of party poppers greeted me.
“Rubian! Happy birthday!”
My family’s beaming faces!
I forced away memories of the dark and gloomy Zevert manor I’d seen in my dream, as well as the “Seventh’s” face, shadowed as if at death’s door.
“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to blow out the candles?”
Dad said, holding a mini cake. The image of blood staining his hands flickered in my mind, but I quickly erased it with the mental equivalent of a rubber eraser.
“It’s your favorite—strawberry cream.”
Shaking off the last shreds of that filthy nightmare, I finally managed a radiant smile.
“Ahem. Dear family,”
I cleared my throat and lifted my chin with dignity.
Now that I was an adult of eighteen, I was supposed to respond gracefully and with poise… but—well, not in front of my family!
“Heehee, thank you all so much!”
I bounced up and down in delight!
As always, birthday mornings were lively.
Blow out the candles, hug Mom and Dad in one big bundle, soothe sentimental Grandfather as he got teary about my growing up, then ride with my brothers on Liam’s flower-adorned carriage to parade around the mansion… Well, I swear, the parade stops next year.
At any rate, once breakfast was thoroughly enjoyed, I set about preparing for the afternoon reception.
“Miss, here you go.”
Hazel came over and handed me something as I sat at my vanity.
It was a small vial of potion.
“Someone from the Imperial Palace came by this morning. From Kasalia…? I think so.”
‘Sevelena must’ve sent it.’
Sending this meant everything had gone well.
I flicked the vial once. Pearly opal flecks whirled inside like a cyclone.
“So this is the real thing.”
The potion for verifying blood relations.
“Are you going to use it right away? On that mage?”
Hazel, quickly catching on, lowered her voice and grew somber.
“But… what if he is your real father? Isn’t that even worse? He came all this way to hand his own daughter over to the Mage King…”
Hazel clamped her lips shut, not finishing the thought.
“There’s nothing I can do.”
I grinned wryly.
“Just have to tell myself I’m unlucky in the parent department, and get on with it.”
As I said it, I tilted my head.
Maybe not? After all, I did meet Dad and Mom here, so perhaps my luck with parents isn’t so bad?
Hazel hugged me tight, then energetically started brushing my hair again.
“So, when will you use the potion?”
“I’ll wait until after the party. He’s locked up securely, anyway.”
“Yes. He asked to go out this morning, but I kept him quiet with a three-hour breakfast. He’s probably still eating.”
Oh.
A literal case of being silenced with food.
“He’ll probably ask to go out again this evening, to see your party…”
Hazel’s lips curled into a wicked smile.
“This afternoon, I’ll treat him to a deluxe northern-style spa massage. The kind that leaves you barely conscious.”
Crack. The veins in her muscular maid’s hands bulged menacingly.
“Uh—be sure to leave him alive. And his joints, too.”
“Of course. Disassembly and reassembly are fine, right?”
Is that supposed to be reassuring?
‘The mage thinks the letter went through, so he won’t panic. He’ll assume the Kasalia king will carry out his orders.’
He has no idea he’s already been utterly exposed to His Majesty the Emperor.
‘Anyway.’
I looked at my reflection again.
“Let’s go for an elegant lady’s style today.”
Since the birthday party took precedence, I chose to focus on what lay immediately before me.
Hazel set to work, twisting, braiding, coiling, and tying my hair with every skill at her disposal, all while explaining details about the dress I’d be wearing. Other noble ladies typically had one or two maids attending them at such times, but Hazel, master of multitasking, was all I needed.
‘I haven’t had to go to many parties until now, anyway.’
Today was both my coming-of-age ceremony and my debutante ball.
The thought now made me nervous.
“What if I step on Dad’s foot while dancing?”
It wasn’t impossible—I’d done it before, at the academy performance…
Just in case, I’d bought Dad a pair of thick shoes.
“Oh, come on, you’ve practiced hard. That won’t happen.”
“Hazel. Don’t underestimate a klutz.”
No matter how many times I drilled the routine, I was always prone to crashing at the crucial moment.
Follow the rhythm? I’m not a carriage—how do you ride a rhythm?
‘Let’s just survive without disgracing myself.’
I reviewed the dance steps in my mind again.
“Your hair is basically done… Shall we put on your dress and finish up? Girls!”
Bang—the other maids burst in, eyes gleaming.
“Fufufufu. We have waited for this moment.”
Was it really necessary to twist your neck while coming to dress me?
Huh? Why are you stretching your arms now?
Crack, snap.
Wait, are those sounds normal?
“….”
Let me ask—do maids in other households always look as if they’re about to bury someone when they get you ready?
Licht stood before the mirror.
“…My face…”
Why did he look so unattractive today?
He frowned for once, scrutinizing his reflection.
“Oh, Your Highness. Is something in your eye? Why are you looking in the mirror all of a sudden?”
A maid who’d been with him since he was a child asked as she entered to tidy up. Being familiar, Licht felt at ease with her.
“Emma. Will you be objective with me?”
“Yes, of course. About what?”
“Am I getting uglier by the day?”
“….”
Emma was momentarily at a loss for words.
“…Excuse me?”
“It seems worse than usual today.”
What was he talking about? The prince, who was the very image of an angel inadvertently stranded on earth—minus the wings—saying this?
“Maybe it’s my hairstyle…”
Licht muttered, absently fiddling with his tousled blond hair. Emma nearly burst out laughing.
‘Oh, our sharp-edged prince is just as helpless when it comes to someone he’s fallen for.’
That he could be this preoccupied with his looks.
“You’re still dazzlingly, beautifully, perfectly handsome, as always, Your Highness. So you have nothing to worry about!”
“I don’t know…”
Licht smiled faintly at his reflection. It was a radiant expression, scattering light about him like a blessing, though he himself seemed unaware.
“It’s a problem if I’m only beautiful in your eyes, Emma.”
Emma had to stifle another laugh.