The Princess Reads the Letter
The House of Zernias.
It was the family of the man named Albert Zernias into whom I had transmigrated — and a house that did not exist in the original novel, The Crown Prince Wields a Sword.
When I first heard the family's name after waking up in this body, I was, honestly speaking, terrified.
Waking up inside a novel you'd read was enough to make anyone faint on its own — but to make matters worse, the body I had transmigrated into belonged to a person the novel had never mentioned even once.
That was what frightened me.
The family. My parents. Even the servants.
Despite having read the original, not a single thing about them was familiar to me.
Fear born of total unknowing — what they call the fear of the unknown — was a far more frightening thing than I had imagined.
So yes, in the days right after my transmigration, I was quite frightened by everything around me.
In the end, though, it had all been pointless worrying.
My parents, as I've mentioned a few times before, were people almost too good for someone like me, and the servants of the count's household always greeted me with bright, cheerful faces.
Now, there were occasionally one or two who still treated me like a twelve-year-old child, but that was their way of doting on me — the only son of House Zernias — not any attempt to hurt my feelings.
Aaron, of course, was the exception.
My swordsmanship instructor and the knight of our household lived for the sole pleasure of grinding me into the dirt, after all.
In any case, nearly all of the household's servants seemed satisfied with their work, and every one of them seemed to genuinely love this estate.
......The problem was that their affection ran a little overboard.
"..."
At the moment, I was confined to the Zernias Count Estate.
I know some of you must be wondering what on earth it means to be "confined" to your own home. But I was, quite literally, confined.
To put it simply for those still struggling to understand: ever since returning from the Valencia Ducal Estate yesterday, I had been placed under house arrest.
As usual, I'd finished dinner at the ducal estate and was on my way home when, through sheer rotten luck, I ran straight into my mother, the Countess Zernias, at the front gate.
And seeing her son wrapped in bandages, injuries plainly visible to anyone with eyes, my mother — unsurprisingly — blew up at me.
"Your debut into high society is just around the corner! What are we supposed to do if you come home injured?!"
The result of that outburst was my current situation. The absurd, laugh-or-cry predicament of being locked up in my own house.
It's not that I couldn't understand why she did it.
Not once in my life had I ever come home hurt from outside before.
Worried sick at the sight of her son injured for the very first time, she'd probably made that decision on the spot.
And to be fair, as Mother had said, the Imperial Banquet — the day Lady Rebecca and I would first set foot in high society — was not far off.
"......Haah."
But understanding my mother's heart was a separate matter entirely from my own heart being in turmoil.
It was true that I'd come home black and blue, sure. But the very person responsible for those wounds — Rebecca — had personally treated them, and at this point they didn't really hurt unless someone touched them.
No matter how I turned it over in my head, a ban on leaving the house felt like an absurdly harsh punishment.
So I went looking for anyone who might help me turn my mother's heart around.
The family physician. The maids of the count's household. Even my own father.
Three groups of people in total, all of whom I begged to talk some sense into my mother.
"You were injured this badly and you didn't come to me first?! Sit down this instant and let me treat you again — and then rest!"
The family physician, far from helping me persuade my mother, focused entirely on treating my wounds one more time.
"......Who could have done this to the young master?"
"Emma, find out who it was right this moment."
"Understood. I'll track them down, so please attend to the young master while we wait."
The maids' expressions turned so frost-cold it was frightening as they set out to hunt down the culprit behind my wounds.
"......Your mother must have her reasons. Do as she says."
And my father, who had always respected my opinions, was — regrettably — powerless against my mother.
That was why I'd rambled on earlier about the House of Zernias.
Everyone in the household loved their young master — me — so dearly that their protectiveness bordered on eye-watering suffocation.
And that overprotectiveness was precisely why I stood here now, locked in this room, unable to talk my mother around.
Now, it wasn't that I hated it. As I've kept emphasizing, their overprotectiveness simply meant that everyone loved me deeply.
What kind of person would complain about being loved by the people around them?
But still — this was too much.
I was eighteen years old now, the age of celebrating one's coming-of-age this very year, and yet they were all treating me like a twelve-year-old brat.
Could there be a greater injustice in the world?
"......She's going to sulk again."
My thoughts drifted to Rebecca.
At the rate my mother was going, there was no doubt I'd be stuck inside until a full week after the Imperial Banquet.
And this was the princess who was already sulking because I hadn't come to see her for a week just yesterday.
If I pulled this same stunt (?) twice in a row — I couldn't even begin to imagine how torqued off she'd get.
I had a feeling it wouldn't take strawberry cake or strawberry ice cream to fix it. It would take every strawberry in the Empire, laid at her feet in tribute.
"Ugh."
I shuddered at the horrifying thought that had just crossed my mind.
A sulking Rebecca was adorable, sure.
But that adorableness was only something I could appreciate while she was puffing her cheeks out to their fullest extent, wearing an expression that said 'I am very upset with you.'
It was not a thought to have when she was properly stewing in resentment and refusing to see me at all.
And so, while I sat in my room agonizing over what to do for who knows how long —
Knock, knock—
"Young master, shall we not have sword practice today?"
The time for my daily training had arrived without my noticing.
For the record, Aaron — who had technically already returned to the knight order where his actual duties lay — had agreed to keep overseeing my training until my house arrest was lifted.
"......Yeah. We should."
I still hadn't decided what to do, but nothing cleared the tangle in my head quite like swinging a sword.
I picked up my blade and rose.
Whoosh—
Swing the sword. Raise the sword.
And swing it again.
Two movements, endlessly repeated, with nothing else mixed in.
Somewhere within that ceaseless repetition, I managed to get my thoughts in some semblance of order.
"......There's no answer."
No answer at all.
There was simply no way to talk my mother around. None existed.
"Is it the house arrest troubling you?"
"Yeah."
Just as I'd said, the current situation was thoroughly bleak.
To keep from hurting Rebecca's feelings, I needed to visit the Valencia Ducal Estate — but my mother showed no sign whatsoever of lifting the ban.
"How am I supposed to resolve this situation properly?"
"Might I offer my thoughts?"
"......You?"
Aaron, a man who had reached twenty-eight without ever having had a girlfriend, offering me romantic counsel.
I couldn't believe it for a second, and I shot him a skeptical look — but:
"Here goes."
"..."
Unfazed even by that look, the shameless knight forged ahead with his opinion anyway.
"The reason you're fretting over the house arrest is because of Lady Rebecca of Valencia, is it not?"
"......That's right. I can't go to the ducal estate, and that's the whole problem."
"Then wouldn't it solve itself if you simply asked Lady Rebecca to come to the Zernias Count Estate instead?"
"That's the most nonsensical—"
I moved to rebuke him as usual for talking utter nonsense, but —
'......Wait. That's actually not bad?'
Now that I turned it over again, it was a surprisingly solid idea.
If the house arrest meant I couldn't go to Rebecca, then couldn't Rebecca simply come to me instead?
Once I explained why I was under house arrest in the first place, the princess would surely go quiet out of sheer guilt.
After all, the cause of my confinement was, functionally speaking, Rebecca herself.
It really was a better idea than I'd expected. So much so that I almost doubted it had actually come out of Aaron's mouth.
"I'm genuinely curious what possessed you to come up with something this good for once."
"I may never have been in a relationship, but I have read my fair share of romance novels, haven't I."
"..."
"......Why are you suddenly looking at me with those pitying eyes?"
"Nothing. Forget it."
Someday, my sword instructor would find someone to love too.
I couldn't say when that might be, but they say everyone has a match somewhere in the world. One day, we'd all find ours.
Probably.
Aaron glared at me for a moment, apparently offended, but soon asked again.
"So — will you be delivering this by letter?"
"I suppose I will."
This world did have magic, but the primary means of communication was still the letter.
Communication magic, if I recalled correctly, was a notoriously finicky spell to use.
In any case, according to the author, it was nothing you could cast casually — reserved only for truly critical situations.
"Then let's end practice here for today, and go write your letter."
"......What's gotten into you? Normally you'd say 'I'd rather not return to knight duty just yet' and drag the practice out longer."
"Judging from that magnanimous look in your eyes, young master, you seem to have decided you must somehow find yourself a girlfriend."
"..."
I didn't bother continuing that conversation. I sent Aaron off and returned to my room to write.
Anything more would only wound somebody, and besides, I wanted to get my message to Rebecca as quickly as I could.
And so, after composing the letter with all the care I could muster, I promptly delivered it to the butler in charge of House Zernias's correspondence.
"Sent now, it should arrive by tomorrow."
"That's faster than I expected."
"The distance, I imagine, is not all that great."
"I'll leave it to you, butler."
"Do you doubt me, young master."
And then, the next day.
Rebecca did not send me a reply.
"..."
"......Why are you staring at me like that? Are you going to show me in or not?"
Instead of a reply, she had come to the Zernias Count Estate herself.
Just one day after I sent my letter.