Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Pink Hair, You're Mine Now
The estate of the First Prince, Manuel, was suffocating in a single word.
Not because of its size.
It was far more blatant than that.
It looked like an ultra-luxurious museum that had gathered every expensive, rare, and extravagant thing in the world.
Tapestries I'd never seen before hung on the walls, and every pillar was embedded with gold thread and jewels.
Not a single wine glass or plate was ordinary.
Even as a prince, there were quite a few things I'd never seen before.
The phrase feast for the eyes fit perfectly.
The Human Empire had always been this kind of nation.
A strategic hub connecting multiple continents.
Merchant ships came and went, caravans lined the roads, and jewels, spices, textiles, and crafts from foreign nations all passed through this place at least once.
If you had enough money, you could acquire almost any rare item.
And the more prosperous a nation became,
the more complicated its etiquette became as well.
Because it wasn't enough to simply be rich.
People wanted to appear noble.
That was why there were five forks sitting beside my plate even now.
'Maybe I should just carry chopsticks around.'
If I claimed they were an eastern custom, the nobles would probably find them fascinating and imitate them rather than criticize my manners.
Leaning halfway into the sofa, I grabbed a fork carelessly and tore into a piece of meat.
I had no intention of following etiquette.
In the first place, I wasn't trying to look like a well-mannered prince.
I drained my alcohol roughly, crossed my legs, and buried myself deeper into the sofa.
That alone was enough to make most nobles keep their distance.
"His Highness Rouang attending His Highness Manuel's banquet? What in the world is going on?"
"You haven't even heard the rumors yet?"
"What rumors?"
"They say His Highness Rouang intends to become independent."
"No way. A member of the Imperial Family leaving the palace?"
Pretending not to hear, I raised my wine glass.
They weren't wrong.
The Imperial Palace was the center of information and power.
In this era, leaving the palace essentially meant voluntarily stepping away from the center of everything, even for royalty.
But viewed another way,
it also meant I could sell my departure for a much higher price.
The Second Prince leaving willingly was an enormous political benefit.
One worth paying dearly for.
If they offered terms that satisfied me, I could leave quietly without causing conflict.
'The reactions from high-ranking and low-ranking nobles will probably be different when they hear I'm leaving.'
The high nobles merely glanced at me without approaching.
Naturally.
From their perspective, there was still no reason to hold on to me, nor enough value to justify the effort.
The people more likely to approach me first were lower nobles and members of the knightly class.
The prestige of royal blood.
A body capable of wielding a sword.
A treasury that wasn't empty.
That combination became a surprisingly attractive investment once you moved to the provinces.
For smaller nobles, a single knight's skill could often determine the outcome of a battlefield.
That was why I intentionally behaved even more aggressively.
I wanted to leave the impression that I looked like a knight capable of killing enemies efficiently.
If I displayed myself like this, who would approach first?
Someone who needed military strength?
Someone who needed royal authority?
Or someone who wanted both?
If they paid an appropriate price, I was willing to form connections and work with them.
Because I needed connections too.
Managing money, managing relationships, reviewing contracts, handling correspondence and communication—all of it required people.
If smartphones existed, I wouldn't need connections at all.
But this was a humanpunk world, so connections were necessary.
That was when it happened.
Among the monochrome sea filling the banquet hall,
one color that seemed to belong to an entirely different genre caught my eye.
Pink hair.
Holding my wine glass, I blinked once.
'...Was that color actually possible in reality?'
In a hall filled with nothing but black, navy, and dark wine-colored formal wear,
a single person walked toward me with cotton-candy-pink hair swaying behind her.
Not blonde.
Not brown.
Not red.
Bright pink.
And her eyes were violet.
Rather than fitting into a palace full of political schemes,
those colors looked far more natural on the cover of a romance fantasy novel.
Without hesitation, she walked straight up to me.
Voluminous pink hair.
Sparkling violet eyes.
And her expression...
was strangely bright.
It wasn't the face of someone afraid of the situation.
"H-Hello!"
"Yes. Greetings."
"My name is Angela Goldrun, Your Highness."
The servant standing beside her tried desperately to stop her, his face turning pale, but it was useless.
"M-My Lady..."
For whatever reason, Angela had approached the mad prince and confidently introduced herself.
I didn't bother correcting my posture from where I lounged against the sofa.
I merely raised my chin slightly and looked up at her.
Was that courage?
Or was she simply thoughtless?
In noble banquets, it wasn't exactly considered proper for a young lady to approach a man first.
Normally, an attendant would step forward first, politely establish the atmosphere, and only then would she speak.
Moreover, this world was lenient toward promiscuous men while demanding modesty from women.
A man building a harem was laughed off as vigorous.
A woman approaching a man first invited gossip.
She knew all that and still came to me?
How could I not be interested?
"I see. You're quite a bold young lady, Angela Goldrun. Did you come to see me for a reason?"
"I saw that Your Highness attended the banquet, so I came over."
"Really? Did you simply want to see my face?"
Surely she hadn't actually come because she wanted to see my face.
I expected something like, "The elders of my family asked me to meet you," or, "Would you consider cooperating with our family after leaving the palace?"
Those were the sorts of family matters I expected.
But instead, a noble lady was approaching me through pure impulse?
Her appearance and clothing seemed perfectly normal.
Had the pink hair somehow damaged her brain?
"Well? Now that you've seen me, what do you think?"
"You're very handsome."
"...I see."
For a moment, I lost my words.
The surrounding area also fell silent.
Rather than an elegant young lady walking gracefully in a dress, she felt more like a puppy happily rolling around in the mud.
The silence became so perfect that the sound of nobles swallowing nervously became even more noticeable.
"..."
"..."
"...Did she just call him handsome?"
"I heard it."
"Directly?"
"Baron Goldrun is going to collapse when he hears this."
"I'm glad I raised my daughter properly."
"My daughter would never say something like that."
Angela seemed to realize only then what she had said.
Covering her mouth with both hands, she turned bright red.
The servant beside her looked seconds away from fainting.
Judging by his reaction, she probably wasn't usually like this at home either.
The knights occasionally complimented my appearance with noble-style flattery.
But hearing it directly from a girl felt strangely different.
It made my chest itch.
'Rouang, so you really were just a boy too.'
"Ah, um, I..."
Angela finally seemed to realize she'd made a mistake and began fumbling.
"I'm sorry!"
"There's no need. Not many people compliment me. If anything, I'm pleased."
"Huh? W-What?"
Angela's eyes widened.
She had probably expected me to get angry.
For some reason, that reaction was adorable.
The type who constantly made mistakes, making it difficult to dislike her.
Awkward.
A little clumsy.
The sort of person who looked like she'd require constant attention.
She reminded me of heroines that used to be popular in old subculture media.
Of course, I wasn't in a position to pursue something like that.
I was royalty.
I had money.
I could wield a sword.
I wasn't some desperate man unable to find a marriage partner.
Which made my thoughts drift elsewhere.
'Who am I going to marry in the future?'
During the days when Rouang had been completely insane, no proper marriage negotiations could take place.
Political marriages followed by separate bedrooms and mistresses were fairly common in this world.
But a mad prince swinging swords around was unacceptable.
Because people could die.
Yet it had already been three months since rumors spread that I no longer cut people down recklessly.
By now, it was entirely possible that people within the palace had begun calculating things like:
Find him a suitable marriage and send him away.
At that moment, Angela carefully spoke.
"Your Highness... are you having a difficult time?"
"A difficult time... yes, I suppose I am."
Mostly because I didn't have a smartphone.
The screen I used to stare at every night still haunted my memory.
Whenever I woke up, I instinctively searched for my phone before seeing the luxurious palace ceiling and realizing reality again.
My current body lived far better than I ever had in my previous life,
yet no luxury could fill the emptiness left by the loss of smartphones.
Naturally, there was no way she could understand that unless she too was a transmigrator or reincarnator.
After hearing my answer, Angela looked thoughtful for a moment before making up her mind.
"If there's something troubling Your Highness, I can listen."
"Hmm... really?"
"Yes!"
I couldn't help smiling slightly.
This pink-haired girl was volunteering to listen to other people's secrets.
Where exactly did that confidence come from?
Angela became serious for a moment before whispering quietly.
"I still can't eat carrots very well."
"Pfft...!"
I finally burst out laughing.
It was so random that it made it even funnier.
"Haha, so that's your secret. I'll be sure to tell your parents later."
"N-No! If you do that, they'll make me eat carrots for all three meals until I fix the habit!"
I liked her.
I liked the pink hair.
Her personality wasn't bad either.
More importantly, the conversation felt alive.
Not a political conversation.
It felt like talking to a friend my own age.
She didn't weigh every word like the carefully molded daughters of noble houses.
She simply said whatever she wanted in that moment.
Yet that very quality made her even more suspicious.
She didn't feel like a noble lady at all.
'Could this pink-haired girl really be a romance fantasy character?'
Setting down my wine glass, I asked,
"You graduated from school properly, I assume? Being a picky eater would've become a rumor there quickly."
The Human Empire possessed several prestigious noble academies with long histories.
Manuel's banquet today wasn't a major social event.
It was a relatively private gathering among acquaintances.
Most attendees were nobles from the capital region, and children from such families were likely academy graduates.
That was why I asked naturally.
Angela immediately nodded.
"Of course. I graduated with excellent marks."
"That's surprising. You don't look the type. How highly were you evaluated?"
Noble academies didn't judge students through a few grades on a report card.
Suitable for administration.
Pious enough for the clergy.
Strong enough to become a knight.
Recommendations were usually given in that sort of manner.
But then—
"I was actually first-rank... no, wait! That's not it! They said they could recommend me as an administrator, but women weren't allowed."
At that moment, I nearly froze.
There was no such thing as first-rank in this world.
That only existed in South Korea.
...
Whether she was a transmigrator.
A reincarnator.
Or something else entirely.
I found her.
A soul from another world.