Chapter 38
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Sparks of Ambition
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Isaac had no interest whatsoever in those lacking ambition. Truly, they were no different from a stone rolling aimlessly down the street.
'But what in the world is this situation?'
The Third Prince, who had never once shown any ambition and only knew how to cower when struck, now had unmistakable anger burning in his eyes.
'And that's prime fuel for ambition to grow.'
And the one who had probably ignited that emotion was his cute little sister, sitting there with an utterly innocent expression.
Isaac let out a deflating chuckle.
He had grown bored with the unchanging, peaceful days where no winds ever blew.
Ever since Charlotte appeared, it felt like fresh breezes were swirling all around him.
Charlotte stared blankly as Isaac rose to his feet, then suddenly asked,
"Aren't you going to ask? You said you would."
Isaac, who had seemed ready to interrogate her on the spot moments ago, just shook his head with a grin, clearly amused.
"No, of course I will. Especially after that public apology. But a sudden burst of skill out of nowhere... Hmm. On second thought, it might not be the righteous or proper way."
"So, you don't want to hear it?"
"No. If anything, I'm even more curious now."
"Then ask away."
"I'll ask after the tournament's over. If I hear it now, honestly, I might not let you participate afterward."
Isaac, who had looked like he would pry it out of her right then, unexpectedly turned and waved dismissively. After ruffling Charlotte's hair, that is.
'Is he wary of Joseph?'
Well, it wasn't some grand evil secret anyway.
'...Or maybe it is something too monumental.'
Charlotte watched Isaac's retreating back, then glanced down with a smile. The tip of her finger brushed against the cloak of Isaac, who she had been sitting on.
'He really is a madman, but he seems like a good person.'
It was just a casual conversation, yet for some odd reason, her heart warmed.
"So, what happened here?"
Ben frowned as he examined Charlotte's delicate hand, now a total mess. Her soft, pampered skin—clearly never gripped a sword properly—was smeared with blood, the cotton-like palm torn up.
Only then did Charlotte look closely at her own hand, seeing Ben's grave expression.
It was nothing more than a scrape, really. But hearing two people fret over it...
'Wow, you see all kinds of things living long enough.'
Charlotte gave a feeble smile, brushed off her pants, and stood up.
Ben finally noticed the cloak she'd been sitting on belonged to Isaac and widened his eyes in surprise, but he was even more shocked to see Charlotte casually pouring water over her injured hand.
"My lady, what are you doing?"
"...Huh? Cleaning the wound, obviously."
"Well, yes, but... doesn't it sting?"
Deep cuts hurt, of course, but abrasions like this burned fiercely.
And she was just dousing it with water like that.
Charlotte nonchalantly shook the water off her hand into the air.
"It's nothing. Stuff like this happens in training all the time."
"True, but..."
"Haha. Old man, you've gotta be grateful for wounds this minor."
"...You sound like a grizzled veteran who's seen it all."
Ben shook his head in exasperation as he applied ointment and bandaged her hand. Charlotte didn't even whimper once. He thought she was remarkably tough.
The medicine he used, infused with holy water, was effective but so painful that even grown knights would tear at their hair in agony.
Yet Charlotte took it all in stride and, not content with that, clapped her freshly bandaged hands together.
"Ah... I'm hungry."
"...Pardon?"
"Right, my lunchbox."
"Pardon?"
"I packed a lunchbox. It's in the carriage... Ben, could you grab it for me?"
"...Understood. If you're hungry even now, I suppose the injury really is fine."
Charlotte beamed and stretched her arms high overhead as if it were no big deal. Ben sighed helplessly and trudged toward the carriage.
Once Ben was far enough away that his words wouldn't carry, Charlotte glanced over at Joseph.
Joseph's pitch-black head of hair, like a bean, gave no hint of his thoughts. He just stood there motionless, staring at a rock on the ground.
Even while Isaac arrived and left, he'd remained like a statue. She wondered what he was thinking.
"Hey, if you keep glaring like that, the rock'll split."
Joseph's clear gaze slowly lifted to meet Charlotte's eyes.
Then he dropped it back down and slowly opened his mouth.
"I asked you why."
"...Huh?"
"I clearly asked why you did that for me."
Not a word of thanks, not a complaint about why she'd interfered.
Flustered, Charlotte nodded dazedly.
"...Y-yeah, you did..."
"Back then, I was curious. Now, I'm not."
"...Huh?"
Unable to grasp Joseph's context-free words, Charlotte tilted her head far to the side.
Only then did she see the expression on his face as he stared at the ground.
It was the look of someone utterly frustrated, or perhaps pathetically exasperated.
It resembled hatred, yet also exhaustion.
"I had nothing to lose."
The words tumbling from the boy's mouth were far too heavy.
Charlotte's heart pounded.
Not because she was glad Joseph was about to open up.
She was used to her own tragic backstory by now, but hearing his would hurt too much.
"Joseph..."
"No one expected anything from me, not even myself."
"But you said... you said you'd enter the tournament and properly knock the Second Prince down a peg. Back in that garden..."
"I said it."
"Yeah?"
"I have confidence I'll win... but who knows how far this body can go."
It was true.
In the original story, the tournament's victory didn't go to Joseph.
"...Joseph."
"I think you're insane."
"Is this atmosphere you're setting up just to insult me?"
Charlotte furrowed her brows in disbelief, and Joseph bit his lip before forcing out the rest.
"Why else would you suddenly butt in like that? To save the Third Prince, abandoned even by His Majesty, who shares my blood."
Charlotte's gaze drifted to the two distant escort knights, too far to hear.
The fact that those wretched escorts hadn't stepped in was utterly pathetic.
The Emperor had abandoned him. It fit perfectly.
Joseph looked up at Charlotte.
In that moment, she glimpsed a tiny flicker like a flame in his impenetrable black eyes. At least, she thought she did.
"You said you'd protect me?"
"...Yeah."
"I thought that was arrogant. My neck's always half-hanging from the noose anyway."
"Joseph."
Once Joseph started pouring out words from his usually sealed lips, they wouldn't stop.
"Charlotte. I have to grovel like a worm to survive—that's the only way I've clung to this wretched life. I thought it was the sole way to outlive my mother... but you changed my mind."
"Huh?"
"If I keep living like that, Charlotte, you'll be the first to die. Idiot."
The conversation ended there.
"I brought the lunchbox!"
Because Joseph clamped his mouth shut as Ben's loud voice approached.
'So, how exactly did your thinking change? You just ended up insulting me.'
Charlotte scowled, but seeing that resolute glint in Joseph's formerly empty, soulless eyes made her chuckle despite herself.
"...Why are you laughing?"
"Because you're cute."
Charlotte reached out to gently stroke Joseph's bangs, but he swatted her hand away with a displeased look.
"...Ow, ouch. Touching my hand hurts the injured spot from earlier. Ow."
But as Charlotte whined and kept reaching, Joseph scowled deeply yet let her hand stay without swatting it again.
"Good boy. So cute."
Every time Charlotte whispered smugly with a pleased smile, Joseph's brow furrowed even more.