Cuteness is All That Matters (3)
Sudden demand for a transfer, and Olivier's eyes wavered. I preferred sticking by Olivier's side, who showered me with affection rather than immediately suspecting me like Iora did.
"You have a tendency to trust people blindly. Don't just open those hazy eyes of yours—make sure you discern who they really are."
"Y-You're not planning to bully him or anything, are you?" Olivier shot me a suspicious glance and hugged me even tighter. Suffocating...
"This kid... What do you take me for? Besides, this is a good proposal for both you and the boy. Wouldn't it carry more weight with two people vouching for him than just one princess?"
Another solid point... Even if my head accepted it, my heart wouldn't, it seemed—Olivier pouted, her lips jutting out in a sulky expression.
"Fine. If you're saying it that strongly..."
With the look of a mother sending her child off on their first errand, Olivier carefully set me down and pushed me toward Iora.
"Ed, from now on, stay by my sister's side."
I glanced at Olivier, wondering if this was really okay, but she avoided my eyes, unable to meet them.
"This kid... Am I going to eat you or something?"
"Sob! You have to treat him well!"
After that tearful farewell scene, I suddenly found myself alone with Iora.
"Um, uh... where should I...?"
"Oh, just sit wherever you're comfortable. I still have work to finish."
With that, she began reviewing the documents a servant brought her. With no choice, I sat in an empty seat a bit away from Iora, the most comfortable spot available. I quietly kept my mouth shut, occasionally stealing glances at her as she handled her paperwork.
"What an unusual child."
Iora's sudden remark. Since she hadn't even looked up from her papers, I thought it was just musing to herself.
"Pardon?"
"Even noble children who are rigorously trained in etiquette struggle to sit quietly alone like this, unlike other kids. That's commendable and impressive."
W-Well, that's a compliment, right? I smiled in thanks, but Iora's words didn't end there.
"Which makes you even more suspicious."
"Pardon?"
"It's something even thoroughly mannered noble kids find hard. Your background is a bit questionable, isn't it?"
She looked up from her documents then, meeting my eyes. Her lips curved into a gentle smile, but her gaze was sharp as a blade. It made me feel like I should apologize.
"S-Sorry!"
"No need to apologize. I wasn't trying to say anything by it."
With that, our conversation cut off again. After hearing that, the atmosphere felt heavier than before. It was getting suffocating, bit by bit.
Luckily, someone broke the tense mood.
"Your Highness! This humble Jowell reports! May I enter?"
"Enter."
The man who stepped in after permission was clad in plate armor—a young, vigorous-looking fellow.
"The interrogation of the criminals has concluded."
"I see. Did you learn anything?"
"Well..."
The knight wore an expression of deep shame.
"We obtained no useful information. Their minds seem protected by powerful magic, so attempts to read them magically failed... And since most were half-dead by the time we arrived, even light torture caused them to expire..."
"Didn't you say you'd administered magical healing? What was the torturer doing?"
"M-My apologies."
"Letting such important criminals die is a grave offense. Replace the torturer."
"Yes, ma'am!"
After that exchange, she glanced at me.
"For a child's body, you show no mercy."
Only then did I realize the men they'd been discussing were the thugs who'd ambushed Olivier.
"S-Sorry."
"Hehe, am I scary? You apologize at every word... No need to freeze up like that."
She covered her mouth lightly with her hand, as if emphasizing the mole there, and laughed.
"More importantly... this is serious. Assassins protected by magic even palace mages can't easily pierce, ones who dispatch the Imperial Guard effortlessly... It seems some force we can't ignore is threatening our imperial family."
She stroked her cheek thoughtfully and continued.
"Understood for now. Double the guards on the capital streets and strengthen patrols."
"By your command!"
"Next..."
Iora stood from her seat.
"Shall we inspect the palace security for my brother's birthday tomorrow?"
"Your Highness will do it personally?"
"He asked me to."
With that, Iora headed out with firm steps. Just before leaving, she beckoned me with a flirtatious wave, like a fox spirit tempting a man.
We—Jowell, me, and the servants—followed Iora as she walked somewhere. After quite a while, Jowell spoke cautiously.
"Your Highness, about the matter I mentioned before."
"Before? What matter?"
"About my younger brother..."
"Ah, that."
Iora stopped in her tracks and turned to Jowell, hand on her hip, eyes glancing upward.
"You asked me to take your brother as my squire, right?"
"Yes! Exactly!"
Iora nodded, glanced down at me briefly, then said,
"Perfect timing. I've already found a suitable candidate for that, so unfortunately, I can't take your brother as a squire."
"P-Pardon? B-But Your Highness, you clearly said you'd accept my brother as..."
Iora gave a wry smile and scratched her temple.
"Sir Jowell, it seems there's a misunderstanding. I said I'd consider it, but I never agreed to accept him."
"Ah..."
Only then did realization dawn on Jowell, as if recalling the past conversation.
"Everyone has a role suited to them. Your brother likely has a better place, so don't take it too hard."
"Could that suitable candidate be... this child?"
Jowell pointed at me. Sudden bad vibes hitting hard...
Iora nodded crisply in affirmation.
"Indeed?"
"However, Your Highness, this child's origins are unknown. Using such a mysterious boy as a squire..."
True enough. Suddenly making me her squire probably meant keeping me close to watch me.
"Sir Jowell, I want anyone guarding my side to be talented, no matter who they are. In that regard, this boy passes with flying colors."
Despite the princess's words, Jowell eyed me with clear dissatisfaction.
"That's a look of disbelief."
"N-No, it's not that..."
"How about this? To resolve your doubts cleanly. Sir Jowell, why don't you spar with the boy?"
"P-Pardon?!"
What the—? I stared up at Iora in disbelief, nearly as stunned as Jowell, but she smiled amiably and said,
"No intent to insult you, but... I believe this boy is stronger than you. If you're dissatisfied, test him yourself. If you win, it proves my eyes wrong, and I'll accept your recommendation."
Iora's abrupt proposal. Jowell stared at me blankly. After a moment's hesitation, he bit his lower lip and replied,
"Understood. I shall obey Your Highness's will."
And just like that, I ended up dueling a knight I'd just met. In a small training yard, no less, with Iora watching. Not only servants, but knights and soldiers drawn by the rumors had gathered sparsely.
"Sir Jowell, are you sure? Fighting without armor."
"My opponent is a child. Fair conditions demand the same."
Jowell shed his plate armor, down to a tunic and shorts—light attire. Sword at his waist, he faced me in the center. Towering over me, he looked utterly bemused and amused by the situation.
We backed away to create distance, then faced off again. The moment we did, he drew his sword and charged with a mighty shout.
I blocked his path with mana threads.
"Guh?! Urgh...?!"
Startled by the sudden binding, he struggled desperately.
Now, how much force should I use? Can't kill him, obviously. But a stalemate puts me at a disadvantage... I released him as he tried to move.
"Whoa?!"
Like someone shoving hard against a vanished obstacle, Jowell's balance pitched forward—but his reflexes kept him from falling.
"Guh...! This...! Ack?!"
As he gripped his sword and charged again, his head snapped back, and he toppled. I'd strung a taut thread at neck height; his momentum sent him tumbling.
"Ugh, urgh..."
Still, he didn't give up. Each time, I tripped or yanked his feet with threads, inducing falls. Keeping distance with constant Niwawa chants.
"Hah, hah..."
Even he, who seemed so fit, was dirt-covered, breathing raggedly. Scrapes marred his exposed skin.
"That's enough!"
Judging there was nothing more to see, Iora raised her hand from the sidelines.
"Sir Jowell, you get it now, right? You can't beat this child!"
"Y-Yes, Your Highness is correct."
"Good. But don't feel too ashamed! To me, this kid's a once-in-a-century prodigy."
Don't feel too down. Your opponent's me. Iora spared Jowell's pride appropriately before dismissing everyone.
After the scheduled inspection, the sun had set, and night fell as we returned to the palace. Following Iora inside, I asked,
"Your Highness... where will I stay now?"
"Hm? Why ask? Obviously my chambers."
"Pardon?"
"You're my squire, aren't you? Squires can share chambers. Follow me."
"..."
Her tone and actions were different, but it felt like the same clingy vibe as with Olivier. Unable to refuse, I trailed her to her chambers.
Fitting for a princess, the room was spacious, yet sparsely and modestly furnished. Still elegant and refined.
Idly surveying my future space, something caught my eye.
"Huh?"
In one corner, on a display shelf, small statues were lined up. Painted like figurines, in a cluster.
But every single one depicted boys—young male children.
What the—?
Thudthudthudthud.
Footsteps so frantic, it was like a lion charging. Simultaneously, I was flung sideways.
I slammed into the wall, swallowing a hiss of pain, and grimaced as I assessed. There stood Iora before the shelf, breathing heavily. She'd apparently rushed over and shoved me aside.
She didn't stop—sweeping the figurines off the shelf in an instant.
"Guards!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Her shout pierced my eardrums. A maid hurried in, bowing deeply.
Iora pointed at the scattered statues.
"I explicitly ordered you to remove those! What is the meaning of this?!!!"
"Pardon? Ah... W-Well... Removing the statues wasn't urgent, so I put it off and... forgot, it seems..."
"Unbelievable! Who told you to judge priorities? When I say remove them, you do it immediately!!! You're no longer needed. Out of the palace—begone!"
"P-Pardon? Your Highness! Please, not that...!"
The naive-looking maid prostrated herself, pleading, but Iora coldly ignored her. Other servants dragged the sobbing maid away.
Now alone in the room, Iora avoided my eyes, turning her head away. Her ears were beet red.
Seeing her back heaving like a steaming kettle, I finally realized.
This woman... The "observing" was just an excuse, wasn't it?