Sponsoring the Princess? Why Me?
Why would I sponsor the princess?
Why did I even read that romance fantasy novel? Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe because my sister was making a fuss about it, or perhaps it just happened to catch my eye that day. Anyway, at first, it wasn't half bad once I started.
The setup was cliché. An empire and its princess. The classic imperial succession struggle unique to romance fantasies. And a young, handsome, capable northern duke who sponsors that princess. Nothing special, but it was flashy enough and stimulating in just the right way.
The problem was that handsome, capable northern duke.
"No one's this much of a pushover." I chuckled dryly at my smartphone screen.
In the story, the duke clearly loved the princess. Or at least, it was described that way. But to me, it was laughable.
A princess he'd met only once at a palace ball in his youth. Radiant golden hair framing snow-white skin and stunning beauty. And those captivating purple eyes that drew people in. The issue was, it was one-sided love. The protagonist princess showed no real feelings, yet the northern duke was ready to give her everything. What kind of love was that?
When the princess was in crisis, he rushed troops to her aid. When she needed money, he sent every coin he had. When she disliked someone, he became her sword without hesitation.
After giving so much that no pushover could top it, and the princess finally ascended the throne... I was genuinely impressed.
"...What an idiot."
Because that northern duke became a traitor.
And the now-empress protagonist? She didn't lift a finger to save the duke in his hour of need. No, she abandoned him with her own hands.
"I will remember your devotion, Kairon. However, the heinous crimes you have committed are beyond forgiveness."
The empress princess said this with tears in her eyes, as if she were the tragic protagonist.
"Yeah, she is the protagonist."
"So please, die for the empire."
By the final scene, the curses were spilling from my lips for real.
"Holy shit, what a load of crap."
The princess in the novel was beautiful. She clearly struggled and strove through crises. Pitiful yet cunning, and sometimes crueler than anyone. But the problem was, she shouldn't have done that to Kairon.
To Kairon, who would've sacrificed his life if she asked, she shouldn't have responded like that at the end.
Slice!
In the novel, the scene continued with Kairon meeting his death just like that.
"...Not once in my life have I ever not put you first."
Even on the brink of death, Kairon remained steadfast. Thoroughly used and discarded, yet he never resented the protagonist—instead, showing pure, devoted love.
Sob, sob!
The description followed of the princess sobbing over Kairon's corpse...
Whoosh! I hurled my phone away. Even as it tumbled across the bed, rage boiled inside me.
"No, no! This is bullshit. Fucking hell, this can't be real!"
I know some people love this kind of plot. The tragic protagonist and the northern duke who loves her, devoting himself to the end. But to me, it felt like she'd stripped him to the bone and tossed him aside.
Given Kairon's significant role, I'd been immersed—making me feel like the idiot pushover. I was pissed.
"Ah, fuck. Should've never read it."
I ruffled my hair roughly, but my blood still simmered. What the hell? Who even writes this crap?
Sure, it's for women, but there's a line. A line you don't cross.
"Haa."
I let out a deep sigh, forcing myself to calm down. The damn thing was so long, and I'd wasted a whole day on it.
'Kairon Balder, Northern Duke.'
The man with the empire's strongest private army. Young powerholder gripping the northern mines and trade routes. The only one who stood by the princess to the end, even when she was ousted from the capital.
Yet before her, he turned inexplicably weak. Cold and selfish, my ass. One smile from the princess, and he questioned nothing. She extended a hand? He took it without doubt. Her request? He accepted without hearing details. She shed tears? He started wars for her.
And died for it.
"...He started a war for her, and she tells him to die." I muttered, and the room fell silent. Well, it had always been quiet.
I booted up my PC and searched for the novel I'd read: Northern Duke's Pure Love Only for Me.
I scrolled through the comments and slammed the site shut.
"Fuck."
I couldn't relate at all. To me, no moron's this much of a pushover.
The reviews were all praise.
"It wasn't even love to begin with."
Thinking about it, Kairon wasn't the only pushover. Anyone who met the princess's eyes or held her hand acted strangely. Whether contrived plot or mesmerized by her beauty, everyone bent to her whims.
"No traits mentioned or anything."
No system windows in this romance fantasy, but it felt off. Like she had some force that blindly compelled obedience. Not talent or charm—just raw pull.
And Kairon was the deepest victim.
"Ah, whatever. Not watching more."
I leaned back in my chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. I'd read almost to the end, but no interest in side stories.
"Like I'll ever touch another romance fantasy."
Above all, my mood was trashed. Regret gnawed at me.
"Duke."
Someone called me. The voice sounded strangely close.
"Duke?"
It came again. Soft yet plaintive, with a sweet allure that drew people in.
That moment, I blinked.
"...?"
What I saw wasn't the ceiling. A wide window and glossy ebony desk. Beyond silver candelabras sat a stunning woman.
"Duke, what's wrong all of a sudden?"
She tilted her head slightly, gazing at me. Moonlit golden hair revealed skin pale and flawless. Red lips, mysterious purple eyes.
"...Huh."
I opened my mouth unconsciously, then froze.
Wait.
Something familiar. Not just seen—deja vu.
"You're so quiet today."
She smiled softly. At that smile, a name surfaced from deep in my mind.
'Elysia Le Arden.'
Third princess of the Arden Empire. Exiled to the outer castle by the current empress. The woman who later crushes all siblings to claim the throne.
"Holy shit."
"...Pardon?"
Even as surprised Elysia spoke, cold dread settled in my gut.
I slowly lowered my head. My hands came into view. Long, sturdy fingers. Black gloves. Silver family crest on the back—a brave wolf.
Balder family crest. Northern shield of the empire.
And.
'Kairon Balder.'
The pushover duke I'd just cursed. I was in his body now.
"...?"
Breath caught in my throat. Not a dream. The luxurious glove texture on my fingertips. Crisp formal attire, faint rose scent. All too real.
"Are you unwell?"
Elysia tilted her head, watching me. Swish. Golden locks cascaded over her shoulder.
"...?"
My gaze followed involuntarily. Up close, she was unreal. The most beautiful person I'd ever seen—no exaggeration.
So yeah, her beauty was legit.
But.
'So what?'
I knew Kairon's ending. No big emotions stirred. Original Kairon would've fawned and replied instantly. Not me.
Frankly, it pissed me off.
"Duke?"
Elysia's brow twitched faintly. I finally spoke.
"I'm listening."
My voice came out lower, colder than expected. Sharp-edged.
"Good. I thought you weren't hearing me out."
Yet Elysia smiled at me again. As if she knew exactly how captivating she looked.
"Then, may I have your answer?"
Answer? Memories from Kairon flooded in.
This was chapter 1's start. Night before Elysia dives into the throne war. She summons Kairon to her outer castle for a big ask.
"I need your sponsorship, Kairon."
"I need your sponsorship, Kairon."
Hearing her recite the line exactly, I nearly laughed inwardly.
Ha.
How does she make such outrageous demands with a straight face?
Kairon would gain much as duke, but her requests weren't easy. Portion of gold from northern mines. Trade rights from Balder caravans. Lobby funds for imperial council. Her "sponsorship" meant everything.
"Elysia."
"Yes, Kairon."
She replied to my casual call with a radiant smile, like owning the world. Expectant, assuming assent.
It was obvious to me.
"Can I hear the specifics of this sponsorship?"
So I asked calmly instead. Elysia smiled slowly, as if caught off-guard.
"...Of course."
She touched her teacup lightly.
"I heard the northern winter was long again this year. But Balder mines must still be bountiful. Especially with prices up on many minerals."
"Yes."
"And I'm not asking too much of you."
What a piece of work. I thought, chuckling inside.
Damn, face doesn't even twitch. She hid her brief fluster instantly.
I pondered. First, funds like now. Then connections. Finally, assassinations.
"You know, Kairon—I just need a foothold to rise again. And you're the only one I trust."
She gazed with affectionate tones. Without foreknowledge, I'd be mesmerized by her beauty.
"That'll be difficult."
I said flatly, smiling coldly.
Why should I? Why play pushover?
"...Pardon?"
"Sponsorship? Seems tough."
I repeated clearly. Her face paled.
To me, that looked... far better than her usual beauty. Much more satisfying.