The Fourth Princess's Smile
The audience with the Fourth Princess had ended.
With King Jin Adonia’s generous assurance that he could wander anywhere so long as he caused no disturbances, Suh Hwian strolled through the palace at a leisurely pace. He had declined the chamberlain’s offer to guide him. He already knew every building here, and more than that, he found it easier to organize his thoughts when he was alone.
‘I miss it. I really miss it.’
Step, step. Hwian walked slowly, his gaze sweeping across the palace interior.
The interior exuded an antique elegance. Golden pillars, crimson floors, and decorative ornaments placed everywhere. These were the very symbols of power that he despised with every fiber of his being. Yet alongside that hatred rose a wave of nostalgia so strong that he found himself brushing the back of his hand.
It had been years since he last set foot inside the Adonia royal palace. This was the place where his past self had trained, studied, and prepared. Even when he had first been summoned and suffered in this unfamiliar reality, this eerie palace had been the only place where he could find rest.
The place where he had grown. And the place that would later be destroyed by the incompetent royals.
That was why Hwian harbored more than simple hatred for this palace. Even though it was the home of the royal family that had dragged him from his original world, he could not bring himself to loathe it completely.
“…Haa.”
He let out a long breath. The air that gently caressed his lungs still felt strangely awkward.
Regardless, he needed to find the Fourth Princess. He didn’t know what the matter was, but she had left the audience chamber alone midway through. She probably hadn’t gone far.
“Hm?”
As he walked, a group of nobles suddenly caught Hwian’s eye. In a secluded corner of the palace, roughly six or seven nobles were aggressively questioning someone. Their faces were flushed with anger, yet their lavish attire stood out even more. They were likely counts or marquesses—people of rather high status.
“Hmm.”
What could such people be doing, gathered together like that? Curiosity piqued, Hwian approached. Only then did the nobles notice him, and one by one their faces began to drain of color.
“So, as I was saying—… Hic. H-Hero…!” “W-We’ll talk about this later. Something urgent has come up, so if you’ll excuse us…!”
Watching the nobles scatter like a swarm of ants, dignity be damned, Hwian let out a snort.
They must have heard about what happened in the basement earlier. Their flight was understandable, but it was still an utterly pathetic sight.
“Where did noblesse oblige run off to? Well, if they act like this, it’s no wonder this place—” “…Thank you for your help, Hero.”
The unexpected voice made his shoulders stiffen.
He turned to look at the woman who had been cornered in the shadows.
Silky white hair. A petite frame that barely reached his chest. The Fourth Princess—Serena—looked up at him with a smile that carried a hint of trouble.
“…Huh.”
A hollow laugh slipped from Hwian’s lips at the unforeseen identity.
It was absurd. She was still a member of the royal family, wasn’t she? Even if she was the youngest with the least power, to think that nobles would swarm her and raise complaints… Considering her background, the scene was almost ridiculous.
“They really… look down on you too, huh.”
Between bewilderment and confusion, a tone close to mockery escaped him. Perhaps unable to deny it, the princess gave a bitter smile and spoke.
“There’s nothing I can do about it. I have to accept it humbly.” “Accept their complaints? If they were legitimate, maybe, but that didn’t look like it.” “They are legitimate complaints. Believe it or not.”
At the princess’s calm reply, Hwian was left speechless.
Legitimate complaints? That? A bunch of grown adults—several nobles at that—cornering a single woman and shouting at her?
His brow furrowed. He couldn’t understand it.
He couldn’t understand the childish nobles, nor the princess in front of him who accepted it all as if it were perfectly natural.
“…As a royal, you should have the authority that comes with it. No matter how low your rank or unusual your birth.” “Are you worried about me?” “I’m just dumbfounded. Wasn’t that why you summoned me in the first place?”
At the flustered princess’s question, Hwian gave a small nod. That was the part he understood the least.
Most royal families summoned a hero for political leverage. Every country he had seen—including Adonia—had done exactly that. The person responsible for the summoning would normally gain considerable authority from that achievement alone. So why was the woman before him in this situation? Why wasn’t she using her accomplishment?
“Because authority is not power—it is responsibility. …One must bear the proper responsibility for what one has done.”
It was a roundabout answer. But the word responsibility struck him particularly hard, and Hwian finally realized who the group of nobles had been.
‘…The Royal Guard.’
The scraps of high-ranking noble families who had failed to inherit their houses.
They possessed neither skill nor pride, but they were still someone’s sons. If they got thoroughly beaten, word would reach their parents.
The parents of the Royal Guard members who had been beaten by the hero had come rushing to complain to the princess who had summoned him. That was the full story of what had just happened.
“…Tsk.”
An awkward feeling rose. He didn’t know what to say.
In the end, it meant the whole incident had been caused by him.
Of course, he had his own reasons for his anger. Even if it seemed unreasonable to others, to him it had been an action without regret.
He simply hadn’t expected the aftermath to fall on someone other than himself.
In the subtle silence, the princess suddenly spoke.
“…Your hand. You left it like that.”
At her words, Hwian’s gaze fell to the back of his hand.
It was still stained with blood from the brawl in the basement. He had wiped it roughly before the audience, but since he hadn’t touched the wound itself, blood was still seeping out.
To him, it wasn’t even a wound worth bothering with. Having been cut by swords, pierced by arrows, and eventually lost half his limbs, this was nothing more than a scratch. If left alone, it would heal and leave a scar.
As Hwian was about to dismiss it without much thought, the princess reached out.
“Could you lend it to me for a moment?”
A small, flawless white hand extended toward him. Hwian unconsciously flinched.
It was a soft, fragile hand. A hand he hadn’t seen in a long time—so defenseless it was almost unreal.
“……”
What was she trying to do? Amid a whirlwind of suspicion, Hwian cautiously offered his hand.
The princess took it as if it were a precious treasure, slowly wrapping both of her hands around it. With her other hand, she gently covered the injured one.
“Ugh…” “Ah, I’m sorry if it hurt. I’m still inexperienced… Just a moment.”
A tickling sensation surged up.
The warmth of another person’s body heat after so long was indescribably comforting. It was unbearably ticklish, yet strangely gentle.
“Mmm…” “!”
Soon, a yellow magical energy bloomed between their joined hands.
Healing magic. And quite a high-level one at that.
Within the gently rising yellow light, he could feel the wound closing. After some time passed, Hwian withdrew his hand and lightly clenched and unclenched his fist.
“…I didn’t know you had a talent like this.”
The wound had healed cleanly. Not even a scar remained; it had been treated with delicate precision.
“It would be difficult to stay in this position without a talent like this.”
Facing the astonished Hwian, Serena smiled faintly like a child who had been praised.
Yes, she smiled. At the hero who had roared in fury the moment he was summoned, at Hwian whom she had met less than a day ago, she offered a gentle smile.
‘…What a strange woman.’
An eccentric. A princess whose inner thoughts were impossible to read.
Her unpredictable goodwill somehow reminded him of Carmen. There was an indescribable quality about her that felt similar.
“Give me your other hand too. I’ll heal it.” “That spell doesn’t consume much mana, does it?” “It’s mana I have no other use for anyway. …I used to cast it fairly often in the past, though.” “……?”
Though he tilted his head at the cryptic remark, Hwian obediently extended his other hand. As the healing continued, she spoke again.
“You must have many questions for me.”
Her voice was soft and steady. When he nodded, she continued.
“Once the treatment is finished, let’s go to your room. I’ll answer anything you ask.” “That’s generous of you.”
There was no reply. After a brief silence, she murmured in a voice so faint it was barely audible.
“…It’s an apology.” “What?” “Umm, please pretend you didn’t hear that. I’m sorry.”
She lifted her head and smiled bitterly. Once the healing was complete, she released his hand and took the lead toward the hero’s quarters.
“I will help you as much as I am able, Hero. Whatever it is you desire.”
Her strangely favorable attitude left him feeling puzzled. Their first impression had been so terrible, yet here she was willingly offering help. It didn’t make sense.
Serena Sylvia. The youngest daughter of the Adonia royal family, the Fourth Princess.
The child of a concubine. …A child born between the king and a commoner.
Recalling the few fragments of her origins he had overheard in his previous life, Hwian followed after her.
By then, a strange warmth had already settled deep inside his chest.