Where Has Popcorn Gone?
As dawn broke, I headed out to the fields and found Popcorn watering the Sprout.
One drop at a time, it carried the water with great effort.
“You’re working hard from the crack of dawn.”
When I spoke, Popcorn flew over and clung to my eyebrow.
“Pi pi pi pi.”
It let out deep, exhausted sighs that seemed to sink into the ground. I wasn’t sure if it had shoulders, but it looked like they were drooping.
Huh. Come to think of it, it was getting easier to read its expressions.
Curious, I lifted it onto my palm. Its body seemed a little bigger now. It was still no bigger than a fingernail, but its eyes and mouth were clearer, and its limbs stood out more distinctly than before.
It wasn’t so much that it had grown as that its form had become sharper.
“You’re growing too, huh.”
I’d always thought spirits lived in the exact form they were born with, so seeing it grow felt strangely moving.
Before, it had looked like nothing but a ball of fluff. Maybe there was an actual body underneath?
Curious, I gave it a gentle poke with my finger. Popcorn rolled across my palm, flailing its tiny limbs.
It must have tickled.
I chased the rolling Popcorn with my fingertip and rubbed it lightly. Small as it was, I could feel something like a heartbeat inside.
“So you really do have a body.”
To be honest, I had assumed it was made entirely of fluff.
After rolling around in my palm for a moment, Popcorn suddenly sprang upright. It made a face like it had just realized something, then fluttered off toward the Sprout.
It circled the Sprout once, then tilted its head.
After tilting its head several times, Popcorn pressed itself flat against the Sprout.
Then it put its ear to the stem. Whether it actually had ears, I wasn’t sure, but that’s what it looked like.
Wondering if it could hear something, I bent down too and listened closely.
But I heard nothing at all.
“....”
Of course not. There was no way a plant would make a sound.
What a stupid thing to do.
I glanced around sheepishly, but thankfully no one was watching.
As I straightened up, Popcorn flew right in front of my nose, making little “pi pi” noises. It clenched its tiny fists as if making a firm resolution.
After performing a few incomprehensible gestures to steel itself, Popcorn glanced back at the grass once more, then flew off somewhere.
As always, Popcorn was busy.
I wondered what it would come back with today to complain about being tired. I couldn’t help but smile softly.
Thanks to Popcorn and Pudding, I never had a dull moment these days.
Though even without those two, the physical labor was so exhausting I wouldn’t have time to be bored anyway.
“Time to get to work, I suppose.”
I rolled my shoulders and arms in wide circles, then began clearing stones from the field.
I wondered when this task would finally end. Surely I wouldn’t have to do it for the rest of my life.
When I looked out over the vast plain that still stretched endlessly before me, I ruffled my hair in frustration.
Land was good in moderation.
If I got too greedy, I’d end up an old man with a permanently bent back just from picking up rocks.
Anyone who was to become a crown princess had to study a great many things—royal etiquette, customs, foreign languages, and more.
Because the education available to high-ranking nobles and low-ranking nobles was so different, Marguerite, who came from a barony, was inundated with lessons that would have taken all night and still not been enough.
Even the way one held utensils or walked differed between lower and higher nobility.
And ascending to the royal family meant even more differences.
Marguerite had to relearn everything, from the way she blinked to the way she walked, sat, and drank a glass of water.
Most of her studies took place at the marquis’s estate, but there were certain classes that could only be held at the palace.
The person in charge of those palace lessons was the queen, and she despised Marguerite.
She probably couldn’t stand the idea of her son’s wife coming from a poor barony.
The tutor the queen had chosen carried a specially made switch. At the slightest flaw in Marguerite’s movements, she would mercilessly strike the offending spot.
Normally, whipping a future crown princess with a switch would be unthinkable.
But in a room where no one but the queen’s ladies-in-waiting could enter, such punishment carried out with the queen’s permission was simply overlooked.
After all, no one would ever know.
I heard the switch had been made at the queen’s special command.
The pain was severe, but it left almost no marks.
It must have cost a fortune.
If they had that kind of money, they should have used it to feed the people who were starving to death.
Most of the sudden “urgent business” that canceled her scheduled meetings with the prince had also been orchestrated by the queen.
She did everything she could to keep the prince and Marguerite apart.
Perhaps she even hoped Marguerite would simply die before officially becoming crown princess.
That was how much the queen hated her.
‘But what is this about?’
Marguerite had come to the palace today to meet the prince.
Yet she was led to the queen’s chambers instead.
That had happened occasionally before, so she tried to take it in stride, but the queen’s words were strange.
“...Just what have you been doing? It is your duty to strengthen your bond with the prince and ensure he does not look at other women. Yet you only come when a schedule is set, and you have not sent him a single love letter. Do you even understand what it means to be crown princess, or do you not…?”
Hadn’t the queen once urged her to recommend concubines in order to increase the royal bloodline?
She had said it more than once or twice.
“I apologize, Your Majesty. My thoughts did not reach that far.”
Even though the queen’s words left her speechless, Marguerite offered the same meek apology she always did.
The queen and the marquis always reacted the same way.
They felt satisfied for a while after venting, so all she had to do was listen quietly.
It seemed the queen wasn’t finished yet.
Marguerite let the actual words flow through one ear and out the other, absorbing only their meaning.
After years of practice, she had grown used to the technique.
Ah, but she had to be careful not to yawn.
Marguerite straightened her back and composed her expression.
After pouring out her tirade for a long time, the queen finally looked at her quietly.
“Alf loves you. I know that feeling is genuine.”
For the queen to say something like this—what on earth was going on?
Marguerite had met the Saintess shortly after she was summoned, and she had seemed like an ordinary woman, for better or worse.
It was strange that the queen would be this concerned.
“You honor me with your words.”
When Marguerite lowered her head slightly, the queen bit her lip.
This was truly bizarre.
The queen was the very image of a perfect noblewoman.
Biting her lip was something the queen would never do under normal circumstances.
Was the Saintess that displeasing to her, or was there some other meaning?
The queen paused as if choosing her words carefully, then spoke.
“The Saintess is a precious being who has promised prosperity to this nation. You must work together with the prince to support her so that she may wield her power properly.”
In other words, the queen was telling her to prevent the prince and the Saintess from getting close.
She couldn’t openly criticize the Saintess, after all.
“I will keep it in mind.”
When Marguerite bowed her head, the queen ordered a servant to escort her to the prince.
But the servant led her somewhere entirely different from where she usually met the prince.
As they walked down the long corridor, they occasionally passed other nobles visiting the palace.
The atmosphere among the people was different from the last time she had come.
Curiosity, contempt, mockery, delight.
All sorts of emotions were visible in their eyes.
‘Something really is off.’
While glancing at the people from the corner of her eye, Marguerite suddenly stopped walking.
‘Father?’
Her own father, whom she hadn’t seen in a long time, was somehow here at the palace.
He hadn’t noticed her yet because of the distance.
He was pacing back and forth, occasionally looking around as if searching for something.
A few nobles nearby were watching him with mocking expressions, but he seemed completely unconcerned.
That was just how he was.
It was why he worked the fields alongside the commoners and took part in canal construction.
If he cared about other people’s gazes, he would never do such things.
Though it was considered shameful behavior for a noble, Marguerite respected her father for it.
What was there to be ashamed of in working for the sake of the people?
On the contrary, the royal family that spent a fortune on something as useless as a whipping switch should be the ones ashamed.
Her father’s face was thinner than before, and his clothes were old-fashioned, far from current trends.
Still, they were neatly maintained.
Her mother must have tended to them.
Her eyes grew hot.
It had been so long since she had seen her father.
Her chest tightened with emotion.
‘But why is Father here…?’
The Kono Baronry was far from the capital.
Just the travel expenses to get here were considerable.
To enter the palace, one also needed appropriate attire, so unless it was absolutely necessary, her father never came to the capital.
Looking at his gaunt face and eyes, it was clear the estate could not afford such luxury.
Perhaps something had happened to her second older brother.
Her heart sank.
The servant walking ahead turned to look back, but she had no attention to spare for him.
As if sensing her gaze, her father looked in her direction.
His face shifted from surprise to calm.
Normally they would only exchange secret glances before turning away, but this time her father smiled gently at her.
Wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes as they curved downward slightly.
“....”
She understood.
She knew why her father had come.
That was the encouraging expression he made when his children were struggling and needed courage.
The last time she had seen that look was when she left home to go to the marquis’s estate.
He had hugged her tightly and, with exactly that face, told her to take care of herself.
‘He must have heard the rumors and rushed here.’
For his daughter who was suffering.
Her second older brother had probably told him.
Since he was about to become a palace official, he would have been in the capital and somehow gathered every rumor about how his little sister was doing.
Perhaps from his perspective, there were political currents that Marguerite could not see.
If things were serious enough for him to summon even their father to encourage her, then this might not be as simple as the prince merely turning his attention to the Saintess.
She had thought the worst that could happen was the dissolution of the engagement and being sent to a monastery, but perhaps the king had decided to completely discard her in order to obtain the Saintess in the best possible way.
If the king was obsessed with spirits, it was entirely possible.
The rumor that she was a wicked woman had clearly been started by the Saintess, but the one who had spread and fanned it so quickly was, yes, most likely the king.
Marguerite straightened her spine.
She smiled at her father with all her heart.
‘I’m all right, Father. I’m fine. Please don’t worry.’
She poured every ounce of that feeling into her smile. Had it reached him? Had it looked forced? Or had it seemed as natural as a flower blooming?
She caught a few nobles in the corner of her vision looking startled at her expression.
Judging by their eyes, she must have smiled properly.
Her father was still smiling, but a faint sheen of moisture had gathered in his eyes.
It seemed her fate had already been decided by the king.
Other nobles or the queen might still be uncertain, but if her second older brother had judged it this way, it was almost certainly true.
Sometimes a third party saw the situation more clearly.
Marguerite lifted her head and gave the servant a meaningful look.
The servant began walking ahead once more.
The place he led her to was not an area open to nobles, but a garden reserved exclusively for the royal family.
No one could enter without being a member of the royal family or having their personal guidance.
“His Highness the Prince is inside. Please follow this path farther in.”
With those words, the servant withdrew.
In the palace, the queen always assigned her a lady-in-waiting, but today there was none.
With the servant gone, she was alone.
It meant there was something in this garden they did not want others to see.
As she walked deeper inside, a sound like sobbing reached her ears.
It sounded like a woman crying. Ah, she didn’t want to hear this.
She had never heard it before, but she knew exactly what it was.
She wanted to turn back without looking, but the queen’s intention in sending her here was clear.
Meet the prince and win back his heart.
She could not simply leave.
The servant was probably waiting at the entrance.
She had to at least meet him.
As she drew closer to the sobbing, she realized it was actually panting.
Marguerite clenched her fists tightly.
Just one more step.
She took a deep breath in front of the tree that blocked her view, then finally stepped forward.