Chapter 29
“Agh, this is exhausting... Why’d that guy have to dump this on me?”
It was early evening after sunset. I was climbing the small hill behind the temple. After finishing volunteer work with the young lady, a temple staffer approached me and asked if I could help out for a bit. The reason? A crowd had gathered in the square next to the temple, pulling all the manpower that way, leaving no one to patrol the surrounding outer areas.
They said kids usually came out around this time holding their moms’ hands, then wandered up the hill out of curiosity, so they asked me to patrol instead. I was going to stick with Polo and the princess’s team since I was worried about leaving the young lady alone, but the princess had vanished somewhere, so I hurriedly left her with Polo for a moment.
For some reason, he didn’t look thrilled about it—maybe he was nervous. Anyway, that’s how I ended up grumbling my way up the hill when a faint sob reached my ears.
“Sob... sob... hic...”
What? I’m actually hearing a girl crying? Guess that guy was right.
The woman’s weeping came from not far off. For a split second, I wondered if it was a ghost, but I shook it off and headed toward the sound, staying calm.
“Sounds like someone’s crying... Did a kid get lost?”
Logically, any girl crying up here had to be a lost child. It made sense they’d wandered into the woods out of curiosity and gotten stuck, unable to find their way down. Worried that a scared kid might panic at my footsteps and cause an accident, I approached with the gentlest voice I could muster, trying to soothe them.
“Hey, little one~ Did you lose your mom...? Huh? Princess?”
But greeting me wasn’t some tiny kid—it was the Empire’s Second Princess, Astraia von Kailum, her disguise magic apparently worn off, tears streaming down her face through her radiant golden hair.
“Mars... Noctus...”
“P-Princess, why are you here...? More importantly, are you hurt anywhere?”
I rushed over to check on her. I had no idea why she was bawling her eyes out, but if she’d gotten injured, I’d catch hell later. Sure, coming here was her own idea, but as someone supposed to be attending her, they’d blame me for not providing proper protection.
Don’t princesses usually have secret guards as standard? Why was she out here alone without anyone watching her back?
“Looks like you’re not hurt anywhere.”
Thank goodness—no injuries. Relieved, I pulled a handkerchief from my back pocket and handed it to her. Back in my previous life, I never carried one, but learning noble etiquette here had made it a habit.
“Uh... I haven’t used it once today. It’s clean, so no worries—”
“...Thank you.”
She took the handkerchief from me and wiped her tears. She’d cried so much that it took longer than expected, and by the time she’d dabbed them all away, it was soaked. She hesitated, wondering if she should give it back, but I gestured for her to keep it, brushing off the awkward moment.
“You’re not going to ask what happened?”
“No, well... You’re crying, so it’s probably not good, but you might not wanna talk about it... And it’d be rude of me to pry...?”
“I see... Yes...”
Was she sulking because I didn’t ask? Figuring out the princess’s feelings was beyond me—the guy who’d flunk romantic intuition tests forever. It was like perfectly reading a three-year-old’s mind. Her eyes looked somehow hollow and defeated. I wasn’t dying to know, but maybe I should offer to listen.
“Well, unless it’s some huge secret, you can tell me if you want. Might feel better than bottling it up alone, right?”
“...You have a point...”
Once I offered to hear her out, her face brightened a bit as our princess opened up.
“You know I’m like a fallen kite in the imperial palace, right?”
“Mm...”
This wasn’t exactly a secret. The Second Princess, daughter of the Empress Dowager, had lost her mother to illness and received no love from the Emperor since birth. The current Emperor had two wives: the First Wife, the Empress from high nobility, and the Second, the Empress Dowager from commoner roots.
The Empress Dowager was a woman the Emperor met while sneaking out of the stifling palace in his youth. Naive and worldly-inexperienced, he traveled until he ran out of money, collapsing on the outskirts of a rural village where she saved him. At first, he planned to repay her kindness with odd jobs and crash there awhile, but living together, he fell truly in love—and she with him—becoming lovers.
But the previous Emperor’s orders dragged him back to the palace by force. They couldn’t meet until he ascended the throne, when he finally brought her in as his Second Wife. His marriage to the Empress was political, but with the Empress Dowager, it was genuine love. Palace folk speculated the Emperor couldn’t forgive the daughter for “killing” the woman he cherished.
I’d heard from my father that the Empress Dowager’s health declined after giving birth, so maybe it was childbirth complications. Rumors flew—poisoned by the jealous Empress, or the princess a cursed being who stole her mother’s life force—but the imperial family never commented, letting it fade quietly from memory.
“I... always wanted my father’s love. I know it’s arrogant. A girl born devouring her mother’s life has no right to want more.”
“...”
“Still... just a word. Even a brief pat on the head. Praise wasn’t necessary. I just wished he’d look at me... just once in my eyes.”
After that, she’d lived treated like she didn’t exist. The Emperor, blaming his true love’s hollow death on his daughter. And the princess, turning genius to earn that father’s affection. Her haughty speech was probably an act to prove herself worthy of the throne.
“And... I’m to marry soon.”
“Uh... congratulations?”
Glare! Whoops, wrong response.
“Creteia’s First Prince. That’s the match. A man I’ve never met, decided solely by my father. How absurd...”
“Uh... from what I’ve heard, his reputation isn’t great...”
Even I, hopeless with romance, knew that name. Born with a sturdy build and impressive feats, but innately violent and rude—Cretia’s king had headaches over him. His womanizing was infamous too. Marry our princess off to that? Her future was doomed.
“Sorry. Whining to a nobody without connection. Pathetic, isn’t it...?”
“Hm... How about shaping public opinion?”
“Suddenly? Public opinion?”
“Yes. It’s an international marriage, but entirely His Majesty’s solo decision, right? No input from you.”
“Y-Yes.”
“Then forget swaying His Majesty—sway the people. You’ve got a great image among commoners, so news of a forced marriage would spark backlash for sure.”
Her popularity was sky-high; I couldn’t fathom why the Emperor didn’t name her heir. The First Prince and Princess from the noble Empress were highborn but dimwits by comparison—one a lust-driven brute, the other a spendthrift. No way they’d inherit.
“I-Is that so? Wait. Are you saying you’ll help me?”
“Yes.”
“What—?! That was just venting. You’ve no reason to get involved!”
“No reason not to, right?”
My answer left her looking utterly baffled, like her brain had short-circuited. Fair enough—from her view, a rural baronet seriously meddling in royal diplomacy looked ridiculous. But I meant it. Not because she was my type or I wanted a payout. I just got that craving for even a scrap of attention from someone you couldn’t hate.
“Inflate rumors about Creteia’s First Prince, paint the marriage’s downsides, frame you as the victim. Or craft a heartfelt love story—torn from your true love by force. People would eat it up. Fake a lover, show off some cute couple moments, and they’ll root for your romance.”
“Love... story? Fake lover?”
“Yeah. Polo’s right there.”
Seizing the chance, I’d set up an opening for her to confess to Polo. He might not accept instantly, but faking it could spark real feelings. If it bloomed into true love, I’d claim a fat consultant fee from her.
“I’d love to, but... faking with a Helios kid carries too much risk.”
“But isn’t this the perfect shot?”
“The Helios family stays neutral to avoid tipping imperial balance with their power. Linking with Polo Helios might appeal to the Emperor, but foes would pounce on our ‘relationship.’”
“Mm...”
“Worse, if the fake’s exposed, it’s deceiving the Emperor. Does Polo even act well?”
“...No.”
The guy was too honest for lies—like an idol’s cringey pirate act on old variety shows.
“Noble but not too high-status, decent looks, doesn’t treat me like royalty, can act smoothly, has ties to me so dating wouldn’t seem off...”
Stroke—
“...”
“...?”
Why? Why’re you looking at me like that? Yes?