A Long-Forgotten Exhaustion
For the first time in a long while, I felt utterly drained. It was the first time since coming to this world. Walter rode right alongside my carriage on our way to the monastery, chattering away without a single moment of silence. His topics of choice were things I had absolutely zero interest in. If his goal was to slowly wear down my mental fortitude, I had to admit it was a brilliant strategy. Unable to endure it any longer, I finally spoke up.
"Sir Walter."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Let us get straight to the point. Since when did a mere knight commander gain the right to speak so casually to a princess of this kingdom? I have no desire to continue this meaningless conversation."
"Heh."
He's smirking? Did this man seriously just smirk at me? It was a smug, confident smile, the kind worn only by those who had never tasted defeat. To me, however, it was nothing short of repulsive.
"Are you saying that on purpose? But rest assured, Princess Sera. You will soon realize that I am a man worthy of you."
This wouldn't do. The mask of Princess Sera was beginning to slip.
"Jurdo, stop the carriage. Tell the rest of the escort to halt as well."
I ordered the driver to halt the entire procession. Then, in front of everyone, I addressed Walter.
"Walter Grave."
Walter seemed taken aback by my sudden reaction. The knights of the Direct Division and the attendants, entirely ignorant of the context, watched us with bewildered expressions.
"Yes?"
This kind of atmosphere was clearly foreign to him. While he was undoubtedly used to being the center of attention, the gazes directed at him had always been filled with envy and admiration.
"Get out of my sight this instant. By my authority as princess, I am dismissing you from this escort duty."
A crack formed in Walter's composure, his eyes trembling. Like anyone who had never experienced a setback, his embarrassment was rapidly morphing into anger.
Leaving him standing there in a daze, I ordered the procession to move again. Walter, who had been staring blankly at our retreating backs from atop his horse, quickly spurred his mount to catch up with my carriage.
"Your Highness! Princess! Why are you doing this?"
"Do you really have to ask? You are incredibly annoying."
My filter is starting to fail me. Well, not that it matters.
"Did you not give your consent for us to court?"
"What? Who said that?"
"The Queen assured me... She said Princess Sera felt the same way about me..."
At his words, I whipped my head around to glare at him. The moment Walter saw my face, he clamped his mouth shut. My eyes were burning with a fury that felt like oil poured onto an open flame.
"My stepmother... said that, did she?"
"...Y-yes..."
So that was the source of his irritating, boundless confidence. Carmel had been whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Carmel and I were enemies, so it was only natural for her to try and screw me over. Yet, I found this utterly unforgivable. It was hard to explain even to myself why this particular scheme crossed the line... but regardless, I could not let it slide.
I glared at Walter with a gaze laced with genuine murderous intent.
"Return to the royal castle immediately. And deliver a message to my stepmother. Tell her I will be paying her a visit very soon."
"O-Oh... Yes, of course..."
Walter looked completely cowed. He gave a meek reply while stealing glances at my expression, then quickly turned his horse and galloped back toward the palace. I unconsciously clenched my skirt. You are dead meat, Carmel.
It was only after attending five prayer services that I was finally able to return to the royal palace. Every time I showed myself to the public, I was reminded of Princess Sera's staggering popularity. It was almost to the point where she was revered more than the Goddess herself. I did my absolute best to live up to that image—acting like gentle moonlight illuminating an evening primrose, or warm sunshine embracing a sunflower. Consequently, I was utterly exhausted by the time I sank into the carriage seat for the journey back. However, I had no intention of letting my guard down. There was a volcano waiting to erupt back at the palace, after all.
After stepping down from the carriage, I marched straight toward Carmel's chambers. When I entered, Carmel was sitting with her legs crossed, flaunting her seductive curves. Her posture made it clear she had been waiting for me.
I kept my eyes locked onto her even before dismissing all the maids. Carmel bore my fierce glare with an elegant, leisurely composure, but then a sudden chuckle escaped her lips.
"Pfft."
Standing before me, who was like an active volcano on the verge of eruption, Carmel burst into laughter.
"Ahaha! Ahahahahaha!"
She was practically clutching her stomach. It seemed today's events were indeed entirely of her design—from filling Walter's head with delusions to arranging for him to personally escort me.
"Stop laughing, Mother. What did you say to Walter?"
"Ahahaha! It's exactly as you think. He showed an interest in you, so I gave his ego a little boost. I even promised him that if he cooperated with my plans, I would support your relationship as your mother."
"You actually said that to him with a straight face?"
"Why? What is there to be dissatisfied about? Honestly, he is flawless. I think the two of you make a wonderful match."
With every word she spoke, something hot surged up from deep within my chest. It wasn't just because of Walter's overbearing advances. I stepped closer to Carmel. The moment I reached my hand toward her cheek, her laughter died down, and her face tensed. Perhaps she thought I was going to slap her in a fit of rage. Instead, I gently caressed her cheek and spoke softly.
"Do not play these kinds of games with me ever again. This is a warning, Carmel."
I couldn't quite define what "these kinds of games" meant even to myself. But Carmel would surely understand. Her eyes followed my hand as it traced her cheek, before she looked back up at me.
"Hmph. And why should I listen to you?"
"Because if you don't... I will punish you. A very, very terrifying punishment."
The last traces of amusement vanished from Carmel's face. She stared straight into my eyes, trying to read my true intentions. Then, she brushed my hand away.
"It's already too late for that. Marriage talks with the Grave family are already underway."
"What?"
Carmel looked up at me shamelessly, a smirk slowly creeping back onto her lips.
"Didn't you hear me? Marriage discussions are officially taking place between Walter Grave and Sera Rustier. Under the formal name of the royal family, no less."
What on earth was she talking about? Though a fire raged inside me, I kept my voice calm.
"Even a parent cannot arrange a marriage without the consent of the parties involved. Especially not for royalty. Such an arrangement is completely invalid."
"I know. But getting it to this point is more than enough."
Carmel rested her chin on her hand with an elegant, boastful air.
"The Grave family already believes this marriage is being pushed forward by the royal family's own will. And your cold treatment of Walter today will surely reach their ears. What do you think will happen if you reject the proposal now? Won't they think the princess broke her promise on a mere whim?"
"Do you honestly think I would fear such a thing?"
"Of course, the terrifying Princess Sera would never bow to such pressure. But the Grave family, who has served the royal house for generations, might burn with a sense of betrayal. Fufu. The loyalty of the capital's strongest defenders will plummet straight into the abyss."
I gritted my teeth and glared at Carmel, begrudgingly impressed. I had found it strange that the loyal Grave family would conspire with Carmel in the first place. As it turned out, they were merely pawns being played by her. Just like in the original novel, the Grave family was an obstacle Carmel wanted to dispose of quickly. She had orchestrated this to sow distrust toward the royal family—a classic divide-and-conquer strategy. Exploiting her position as the Queen and a member of the royal family, she had backed me into a corner where I could neither accept nor reject this marriage without consequence.
"A marriage between the First Princess and the Grave family, who don't even hold a title? That is absurd."
In the Rustier Kingdom, there were no official status restrictions to become a royal spouse. That rule had likely been abolished by the former king, whose insatiable lust drove him to marry as many beauties as possible. However, there were still implicit requirements for anyone seeking to become the husband of a princess—and eventually, a queen. A titleless family like the Graves and a mere captain of the Direct Division fell laughably short of those expectations.
"Indeed. For now, at least."
Seeing Carmel look so triumphant, as if she already held all the answers, I couldn't help but let out a sigh.
"So that is what the Festival of the Sword is for."
"Exactly. Before the eyes of countless citizens, Walter Grave will win a glorious victory in the tournament and propose to you right then and there. Naturally, the romance-starved crowd will erupt into foolish cheers. Whether you choose to trample over their fervent expectations and the Grave family's pride, or accept that womanizer as your husband... the choice is entirely yours, Sera Rustier."
The picture painted itself clearly in my mind. Walter Grave was already highly popular among the commoners. Despite his youth, he was a genius swordsman and the captain of the Direct Division—a knight straight out of a fairy tale. If someone like him won a spectacular victory and proposed to me, the crowd would be whipped into an absolute frenzy. In that moment, trivial matters like the difference in our social status wouldn't even cross anyone's mind. Any ordinary person would feel an immense pressure from the sheer atmosphere alone. To reject him there would be akin to throwing ice water over a roaring bonfire.
"And what if I make my rejection clear to the Grave family right now?"
"A fool with a fire lit under him cannot be stopped. I've already dropped a little hint to him. I told him that even if he is rejected now, a grand victory at the Festival of the Sword will surely sway the princess's heart."
My head throbbed. For now, I couldn't think of a way to dismantle the trap Carmel had laid. Only one thing was certain: if Walter won the Festival of the Sword, I would be forced into the worst possible dilemma. Watching Carmel smile with her eyes as if she had already won, I clenched my fists tight.