My birthday, as heir to the throne of Medea, and Christmas were approaching. The gardens of Temphsire Palace were beautifully landscaped according to the season and occasion, the trees adorned with multicolored lights from a royally commissioned lighting company, twinkling day and night.
As time passed, what changed was my uncharacteristically diligent daily routine and the resulting weight loss. My laziness, indolence, and tendency to seek isolation remained, but outwardly, I emulated the refinement and dignity of royalty, performing my duties to a reasonable degree.
In a palace where I couldn't trust anyone completely, I felt like I was stranded in another world. Under the watchful eyes of the Queen's people, the power I gained under her shadow was absolutely not mine, and I couldn't wield it carelessly. With so many eyes and ears watching, whatever I did would be heard. My priority was to become recognized and needed by the Queen.
Left alone after Noah's departure, I resolved to utilize my advanced knowledge of the world's currents, and I sought to gain recognition for my worth by discreetly revealing it to the Queen. Showing it off to everyone would do no good. Perhaps it was worth far more than an incompetent, fake princess, but the queen didn't act harshly or nag me. No one picked on me or treated me rudely, unlike in other novels and movies. Nothing interesting could break me out of this stable boredom.
“...It’s boring.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and muttered to myself, "Life is so boring and uninteresting."
Compared to my determination to properly portray the heir, the duties I was given felt dauntingly trivial. Perhaps it was because Erita had lowered the expectations of the Princess. Furthermore, because it was no different from my original life, I adapted quickly. Looking at it another way, I was apathetic, tormented by the conflict and depression I'd harbored for so long. It was also a state of resignation, driven by the futile conclusion that the world didn't turn out the way I wanted, due to the rigorous laws of cause and effect, karma, and equivalent exchange.
Noah hasn't returned, and there's been no contact. Still.
“Would you like to play a game of pocket ball?”
That oblivious servant, Ted, ruthlessly trampled on my serious reflections. He occupied only the space of a bed in one corner of the spacious palace bedroom and would often drag me out of my dejected state. Unlike the court ladies who always bowed and acted as if they were beneath me, he spoke casually and displayed a pleasant rudeness, which I didn't find offensive. I responded with a cold, indifferent expression.
“I don’t want to bother going there.”
"Should I just move the billiard table over here? You just need to stand up."
He wore a thick wool shirt, a vest, and a long polo coat, and his gray eyes narrowed as he smiled slyly. It was a characteristically cheerful smile, revealing his even teeth.
He was a handsome man with a muscular build, but I didn't think much of him. Noah had a coat like that, too. It suited him well. Ted added, his smile lingering, stroking the back of his head.
"I wish you'd go outside. Even prisoners get more sunlight than the Princess."
“I hate it because it’s winter and it’s cold.”
"You don't go out in the summer because it's too hot, and in the fall because you feel lonely. When on earth do you...? I worry about your mental health because you never do anything in your free time. You even hate exercise. Is there anything you'd like to do?"
“Well, even if I had it, I wouldn’t be able to do it.”
"Hmm."
Ted, lost in thought, tilted his chin, seemingly contemplating how to play with me. His brows were slightly furrowed, suggesting a hint of worry. The silence was quickly broken.
“Then how about you go out and pretend to go on a date with me?”
Unlike his usual powerful tone, his words trailed off. I wondered if he'd accidentally crossed the line with a joke, forgetting our social status.
Are you flirting with me? Perhaps you want to be my husband? He's a worthy candidate, a descendant of the Marquis Dominic and a knight of the Royal Family. I glanced at him suspiciously.
“What does it mean to pretend to be dating?”
“Her Majesty gave orders to win the Princess’s heart. And to let you go out more often.”
Ted surprisingly only told the truth. Perhaps that's why he's been so friendly with me all this time. As soon as he finished speaking, a look of displeasure crossed my face, and he added.
"I know you don't care about me. It's rude of me to ask, but I have no intention of becoming your husband. You're too young for me, and even though you're separated, your husband is still alive and well. Both morally and in terms of taste."
“But why do you insist on pretending to have that kind of relationship?”
"I suggest we 'pretend' before other marriage candidates show up and pester you to go out. The Princess doesn't like going out."
“Marriage candidate.”
I chewed it over in my head thousands of times, but only once did I utter it. It was an unpleasant word in many ways.
We're not divorced yet, so why does everyone think it's over? Even though the only thing that remains is the word "marriage," I secretly cherished it. I felt it was Noah and my only connection. It was a defense mechanism and a means that no one could invade. It was expected. Not long ago, the Duke of Hessen came to visit, looking extremely apologetic, and delivered Noah's news on his behalf, saying this.
“I have no intention of remarrying, even if it means I will never be able to see the person I love again.”
It was a rather unexpected remark, but now it made perfect sense. He, a Duke and a worthy heir, would have declined the Queen's offer to become her son-in-law. It would have been his chance to secure Daniel's throne, but he was a man of conviction. I nodded and smiled at Ted.
"You pretend to be dating, and I'll just follow orders and not bother you. We'll help each other out, right?"
“It’s like carrying out a mission, but I will do my best.”
He smiled with a somewhat lonely look on his face.
Thinking of Millia brought a strange sense of unease. She'd once said she was interested in Ted. Her work ethic is so strong that there's no romantic connection between them, but since I don't know Millia's true feelings, I can't ignore it. I don't want to make excuses, like trying to pretend to be someone with some kind of vested interest.
Rumors are always exaggerated. I didn't want to create even the slightest cause for conflict. A small misunderstanding could start an irreversible snowball effect. Imagine Noah's fury if he heard this news while he was on the battlefield. He might abandon all mediocrity and transform into a mad conqueror, leading dozens of Frogen bombers back to the battlefield.
In fact, I'd like to see him like that, but fortunately, I'm not that kind of ignorant person. I sat up straight and turned my gaze to Ted with a firm gaze.
"I don't want to go that far. It'd be unsightly. I'll take care of it, Ted."
“If there is anything you want, please let me know at any time.”
He gave a kind smile.
Those I met as a Princess. I was reminded once again that they and I have a strictly hierarchical relationship, that they simply accept orders from above. And that those in power are lonely by nature.
As Ted had said, potential marriage candidates would appear, and the man appointed as my personal assistant came to visit. I had already established an impenetrable fortress.
“May God bless the star of Medea, Princess Diana. My name is Henry Marx.”
A man wearing a formal dark gray glencheck suit and bow tie greeted me. He had the distinctive black hair of a Medea, a moderate height, and captivating eyes. As I gazed into his violet-purple eyes, I was reminded of the eye color of Count Liam Marx, a middle-aged man who had enthusiastically agreed to my use of the death penalty in court. I offered him a polite greeting.
"Hello."
"It's an honor to serve you. I look forward to working with you. I will be of great help to you in your endeavors, Princess."
Henry closes his eyes and smiles faintly. Unlike Ted, who is a macho, handsome man, Henry has a youthful, handsome face and a gentle demeanor that would make him a favorite and beloved figure among many women.
He was an elite who studied abroad early, moving to the Kappel Federation at a young age and majoring in economics and finance.
"Is it so?"
Henry didn't lose his smile despite my indifferent reaction. "You'll be good at socializing," I said, crossing my arms and nodding at Maria. Maria, with her strict, headmistress-like expression, strode forward confidently and handed him a piece of paper with something written on it.
“Before we welcome the Princess, I will give you some precautions.”
"Yes."
“First, the ambition to become a Prince is prohibited.”
"Yes..."
“That kind of snorting and teasing is prohibited.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Henry clasped his hands together and shook his head with a pitiful, resentful expression. Maria's blunt cheeks flushed, as if she were vulnerable to such things. Seeing her stern demeanor soften, I tapped her shoulder to bring her to her senses. Seeing a faint smile play on Henry's lips, she let out a gasp and cried out.
“That! Even smiling cutely is forbidden!”
“There is no need to regulate even smiling.”
I calmly corrected Maria. No matter how cute he was, I was confident I wouldn't fall for it. I like sexy, decadent men. Henry pulled his bow tie taut on both sides and lifted his chin.
"I guess the Princess prefers cool-headed people. I'll try to be a confident secretary."
This man also seemed to be a bit of a savvy type. He asked me with a haughty look in his eyes.
“Is there anything else you would like me to do?”
I pointed to Boaz, who was sniffing around Henry.
“How about taking a walk and getting to know Boaz? He’s my friend.”
“Don’t he want to bite? It’s so big and fierce.”
“There is no dog that doesn’t bite.”
Henry glanced at Boaz and me, perhaps frightened by the sharp assertion. "If you act like Erita, you'll bite. I didn't know that kind of dog could bite."
“Uh... I’ll go for now.”
“Maria, please come with him and tell him about the walking trail.”
Maria flinched, her face agitated, as she smoothed her neatly tied hair. It was an order given because she seemed to have a penchant for cute men. They say royalty sometimes introduces good spouses to their maids. Henry and Maria hesitantly left the room, clutching Boaz's leash. A moment passed, and when I looked out the window, I saw them happily pacing the garden with two dogs. Apparently, they'd been ordered to take the Queen's pet, Max, for a walk on the way out.
"Princess."
I turned my head as I heard Milia's muffled voice. She opened her mouth with a rather uncomfortable expression.
“They say that the sinner Erita’s condition is not good.”
While living in a camp in the Levani slums, Erita suffered from all sorts of illnesses. As if possessed by some evil spirit, she suffered from a plethora of minor ailments, seasonal illnesses, and contagious diseases, wasting precious health budgets. At the beginning of winter, she contracted pneumonia, and there was no sign of improvement.
She had a very pitiful expression on her face, as she was already in trouble if she died as a hostage.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to hospitalize her and get her treated.”
“Please check the status yourself and report back.”
"All right."
Just as we were about to end the conversation, Milia cautiously brought up a different topic.
“Princess, you increased the dosage of sleeping pills.”
“It’s not working because I’ve developed a tolerance.”
“I heard from Lady Maria that you take it with alcohol before going to bed.”
“Because that works better.”
"Princess."
Milia lowered her voice as if sternly reprimanding me, her face set in stone. I hadn't noticed, as she was usually so gentle, but as expected from a former Royal Guard soldier, she was quite adept at maintaining a stern expression.
"I've been telling you this for months, but you haven't listened. If you continue like this, I'll have no choice but to report it to Her Majesty."
"Anyway."
I smiled and looked straight into her eyes without avoiding them.
"There's no record of any prescriptions for sleeping pills, Milia. I can't receive psychiatric treatment. As the heir to the throne, I can't have any flaws, right?"
“I can help you find other hobbies to indulge in, or to make your time a little more enjoyable...”
"Who is as joyful and happy as I am? I live a life of royalty, of luxury, and lack nothing. What can I do to enjoy this free and secure life even more?"
Milia's turquoise eyes, bathed in the sunlight through the window, seemed to twinkle. I knew she had tried desperately to restore my daily life. I knew she pitied me for losing both day and night.
The affectionate Milia tried to comfort me as I was throwing a tantrum like a child.
“Princess, Captain Noah Rotsilt will be back soon.”
As time passed, what changed was my uncharacteristically diligent daily routine and the resulting weight loss. My laziness, indolence, and tendency to seek isolation remained, but outwardly, I emulated the refinement and dignity of royalty, performing my duties to a reasonable degree.
In a palace where I couldn't trust anyone completely, I felt like I was stranded in another world. Under the watchful eyes of the Queen's people, the power I gained under her shadow was absolutely not mine, and I couldn't wield it carelessly. With so many eyes and ears watching, whatever I did would be heard. My priority was to become recognized and needed by the Queen.
Left alone after Noah's departure, I resolved to utilize my advanced knowledge of the world's currents, and I sought to gain recognition for my worth by discreetly revealing it to the Queen. Showing it off to everyone would do no good. Perhaps it was worth far more than an incompetent, fake princess, but the queen didn't act harshly or nag me. No one picked on me or treated me rudely, unlike in other novels and movies. Nothing interesting could break me out of this stable boredom.
“...It’s boring.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and muttered to myself, "Life is so boring and uninteresting."
Compared to my determination to properly portray the heir, the duties I was given felt dauntingly trivial. Perhaps it was because Erita had lowered the expectations of the Princess. Furthermore, because it was no different from my original life, I adapted quickly. Looking at it another way, I was apathetic, tormented by the conflict and depression I'd harbored for so long. It was also a state of resignation, driven by the futile conclusion that the world didn't turn out the way I wanted, due to the rigorous laws of cause and effect, karma, and equivalent exchange.
Noah hasn't returned, and there's been no contact. Still.
“Would you like to play a game of pocket ball?”
That oblivious servant, Ted, ruthlessly trampled on my serious reflections. He occupied only the space of a bed in one corner of the spacious palace bedroom and would often drag me out of my dejected state. Unlike the court ladies who always bowed and acted as if they were beneath me, he spoke casually and displayed a pleasant rudeness, which I didn't find offensive. I responded with a cold, indifferent expression.
“I don’t want to bother going there.”
"Should I just move the billiard table over here? You just need to stand up."
He wore a thick wool shirt, a vest, and a long polo coat, and his gray eyes narrowed as he smiled slyly. It was a characteristically cheerful smile, revealing his even teeth.
He was a handsome man with a muscular build, but I didn't think much of him. Noah had a coat like that, too. It suited him well. Ted added, his smile lingering, stroking the back of his head.
"I wish you'd go outside. Even prisoners get more sunlight than the Princess."
“I hate it because it’s winter and it’s cold.”
"You don't go out in the summer because it's too hot, and in the fall because you feel lonely. When on earth do you...? I worry about your mental health because you never do anything in your free time. You even hate exercise. Is there anything you'd like to do?"
“Well, even if I had it, I wouldn’t be able to do it.”
"Hmm."
Ted, lost in thought, tilted his chin, seemingly contemplating how to play with me. His brows were slightly furrowed, suggesting a hint of worry. The silence was quickly broken.
“Then how about you go out and pretend to go on a date with me?”
Unlike his usual powerful tone, his words trailed off. I wondered if he'd accidentally crossed the line with a joke, forgetting our social status.
Are you flirting with me? Perhaps you want to be my husband? He's a worthy candidate, a descendant of the Marquis Dominic and a knight of the Royal Family. I glanced at him suspiciously.
“What does it mean to pretend to be dating?”
“Her Majesty gave orders to win the Princess’s heart. And to let you go out more often.”
Ted surprisingly only told the truth. Perhaps that's why he's been so friendly with me all this time. As soon as he finished speaking, a look of displeasure crossed my face, and he added.
"I know you don't care about me. It's rude of me to ask, but I have no intention of becoming your husband. You're too young for me, and even though you're separated, your husband is still alive and well. Both morally and in terms of taste."
“But why do you insist on pretending to have that kind of relationship?”
"I suggest we 'pretend' before other marriage candidates show up and pester you to go out. The Princess doesn't like going out."
“Marriage candidate.”
I chewed it over in my head thousands of times, but only once did I utter it. It was an unpleasant word in many ways.
We're not divorced yet, so why does everyone think it's over? Even though the only thing that remains is the word "marriage," I secretly cherished it. I felt it was Noah and my only connection. It was a defense mechanism and a means that no one could invade. It was expected. Not long ago, the Duke of Hessen came to visit, looking extremely apologetic, and delivered Noah's news on his behalf, saying this.
“I have no intention of remarrying, even if it means I will never be able to see the person I love again.”
It was a rather unexpected remark, but now it made perfect sense. He, a Duke and a worthy heir, would have declined the Queen's offer to become her son-in-law. It would have been his chance to secure Daniel's throne, but he was a man of conviction. I nodded and smiled at Ted.
"You pretend to be dating, and I'll just follow orders and not bother you. We'll help each other out, right?"
“It’s like carrying out a mission, but I will do my best.”
He smiled with a somewhat lonely look on his face.
Thinking of Millia brought a strange sense of unease. She'd once said she was interested in Ted. Her work ethic is so strong that there's no romantic connection between them, but since I don't know Millia's true feelings, I can't ignore it. I don't want to make excuses, like trying to pretend to be someone with some kind of vested interest.
Rumors are always exaggerated. I didn't want to create even the slightest cause for conflict. A small misunderstanding could start an irreversible snowball effect. Imagine Noah's fury if he heard this news while he was on the battlefield. He might abandon all mediocrity and transform into a mad conqueror, leading dozens of Frogen bombers back to the battlefield.
In fact, I'd like to see him like that, but fortunately, I'm not that kind of ignorant person. I sat up straight and turned my gaze to Ted with a firm gaze.
"I don't want to go that far. It'd be unsightly. I'll take care of it, Ted."
“If there is anything you want, please let me know at any time.”
He gave a kind smile.
Those I met as a Princess. I was reminded once again that they and I have a strictly hierarchical relationship, that they simply accept orders from above. And that those in power are lonely by nature.
***
As Ted had said, potential marriage candidates would appear, and the man appointed as my personal assistant came to visit. I had already established an impenetrable fortress.
“May God bless the star of Medea, Princess Diana. My name is Henry Marx.”
A man wearing a formal dark gray glencheck suit and bow tie greeted me. He had the distinctive black hair of a Medea, a moderate height, and captivating eyes. As I gazed into his violet-purple eyes, I was reminded of the eye color of Count Liam Marx, a middle-aged man who had enthusiastically agreed to my use of the death penalty in court. I offered him a polite greeting.
"Hello."
"It's an honor to serve you. I look forward to working with you. I will be of great help to you in your endeavors, Princess."
Henry closes his eyes and smiles faintly. Unlike Ted, who is a macho, handsome man, Henry has a youthful, handsome face and a gentle demeanor that would make him a favorite and beloved figure among many women.
He was an elite who studied abroad early, moving to the Kappel Federation at a young age and majoring in economics and finance.
Considering his background as the son of a high-ranking noble and minister, he would certainly qualify as a suitable candidate for the royal in-law. In the past, he would have expressed deep gratitude and respect to the queen for providing such a prosperous life and even hosting an ‘Ideal Type World Cup’ for him. But now, it's nothing but an extremely regrettable situation.
Henry didn't lose his smile despite my indifferent reaction. "You'll be good at socializing," I said, crossing my arms and nodding at Maria. Maria, with her strict, headmistress-like expression, strode forward confidently and handed him a piece of paper with something written on it.
“Before we welcome the Princess, I will give you some precautions.”
"Yes."
“First, the ambition to become a Prince is prohibited.”
"Yes..."
“That kind of snorting and teasing is prohibited.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Henry clasped his hands together and shook his head with a pitiful, resentful expression. Maria's blunt cheeks flushed, as if she were vulnerable to such things. Seeing her stern demeanor soften, I tapped her shoulder to bring her to her senses. Seeing a faint smile play on Henry's lips, she let out a gasp and cried out.
“That! Even smiling cutely is forbidden!”
“There is no need to regulate even smiling.”
I calmly corrected Maria. No matter how cute he was, I was confident I wouldn't fall for it. I like sexy, decadent men. Henry pulled his bow tie taut on both sides and lifted his chin.
"I guess the Princess prefers cool-headed people. I'll try to be a confident secretary."
This man also seemed to be a bit of a savvy type. He asked me with a haughty look in his eyes.
“Is there anything else you would like me to do?”
I pointed to Boaz, who was sniffing around Henry.
“How about taking a walk and getting to know Boaz? He’s my friend.”
“Don’t he want to bite? It’s so big and fierce.”
“There is no dog that doesn’t bite.”
Henry glanced at Boaz and me, perhaps frightened by the sharp assertion. "If you act like Erita, you'll bite. I didn't know that kind of dog could bite."
“Uh... I’ll go for now.”
“Maria, please come with him and tell him about the walking trail.”
Maria flinched, her face agitated, as she smoothed her neatly tied hair. It was an order given because she seemed to have a penchant for cute men. They say royalty sometimes introduces good spouses to their maids. Henry and Maria hesitantly left the room, clutching Boaz's leash. A moment passed, and when I looked out the window, I saw them happily pacing the garden with two dogs. Apparently, they'd been ordered to take the Queen's pet, Max, for a walk on the way out.
"Princess."
I turned my head as I heard Milia's muffled voice. She opened her mouth with a rather uncomfortable expression.
“They say that the sinner Erita’s condition is not good.”
While living in a camp in the Levani slums, Erita suffered from all sorts of illnesses. As if possessed by some evil spirit, she suffered from a plethora of minor ailments, seasonal illnesses, and contagious diseases, wasting precious health budgets. At the beginning of winter, she contracted pneumonia, and there was no sign of improvement.
She had a very pitiful expression on her face, as she was already in trouble if she died as a hostage.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to hospitalize her and get her treated.”
“Yes, normally this would be something the Chief Supervisor should have directed, but given the deep animosity stemming from the family's death...”
"All right."
Just as we were about to end the conversation, Milia cautiously brought up a different topic.
“Princess, you increased the dosage of sleeping pills.”
“It’s not working because I’ve developed a tolerance.”
“I heard from Lady Maria that you take it with alcohol before going to bed.”
“Because that works better.”
"Princess."
Milia lowered her voice as if sternly reprimanding me, her face set in stone. I hadn't noticed, as she was usually so gentle, but as expected from a former Royal Guard soldier, she was quite adept at maintaining a stern expression.
"I've been telling you this for months, but you haven't listened. If you continue like this, I'll have no choice but to report it to Her Majesty."
"Anyway."
I smiled and looked straight into her eyes without avoiding them.
"There's no record of any prescriptions for sleeping pills, Milia. I can't receive psychiatric treatment. As the heir to the throne, I can't have any flaws, right?"
“I can help you find other hobbies to indulge in, or to make your time a little more enjoyable...”
"Who is as joyful and happy as I am? I live a life of royalty, of luxury, and lack nothing. What can I do to enjoy this free and secure life even more?"
Milia's turquoise eyes, bathed in the sunlight through the window, seemed to twinkle. I knew she had tried desperately to restore my daily life. I knew she pitied me for losing both day and night.
The affectionate Milia tried to comfort me as I was throwing a tantrum like a child.
“Princess, Captain Noah Rotsilt will be back soon.”
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