Chapter 42
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Before the Tournament
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"Before the tournament?"
Charlotte's eyes widened round as she echoed the question, and Joseph nodded matter-of-factly.
"Yeah."
"What is it?"
"...Keep going."
"Huh?"
"Keep going—this stretch of time won't last forever. My brothers... they're the type who'll kill me just to silence any noise if I don't stay perfectly hidden."
As if chatting about the weather today, Joseph's words carried an unexpectedly heavy weight.
He continued calmly, not waiting for Charlotte's response.
"If I aim for victory in the tournament, if I try to surpass my brother, if I even show a hint of standing out... it might lead straight to my death."
"...Joseph."
"Still, I've come to think it's better to choose that path than to grovel and barely cling to life."
"...Why?"
To Charlotte's hesitant question, Joseph slowly moved his lips to reply.
"Just because."
"...Just because?"
"Greed."
"What?"
"If I have something, I want to protect it."
Charlotte couldn't grasp the context of his fragmented words, but Joseph seemed to have no intention of explaining further.
She let out a deep sigh of regret.
He was right.
Standing out meant his life hanging by a thread.
'But it'll work out. Don't rush—get the first button right. To stop the Second Prince from becoming emperor, we need to beat him in this tournament first. And if we show how talented Joseph is, even the Setia family, who revere martial prowess, won't be able to blindly back the Second Prince.'
And if things went well, this tournament might give her a chance to make use of the original story's heroine.
Pulling in foreign powers wasn't ideal, but she wasn't just racking up debts—she was prepared to pay an equal or greater price.
It was a heroine-centered novel, after all, so she knew every detail about her surroundings.
Charlotte intertwined her fingers with Joseph's and gripped them tightly as she turned her thoughts over in her mind.
"Don't worry too much, Your Highness. Didn't this big sister say she'd protect you? I'll figure something out. You just focus ahead and give it your all."
That was when it happened.
Joseph glanced at their tightly clasped hands and shook his head.
"It seems you didn't understand a word I said."
"...Huh? What do you mean?"
"You've shown me enough—over and over—that you'll protect me. That's done."
"...Huh?"
Joseph looked straight at Charlotte, his serene eyes slowly probing as he asked.
"I've been wondering since last time—why do you draw a line with yourself?"
His voice was too earnest, too clear, too earnest.
Looking back, Joseph had always been the one answering, not asking.
Charlotte gazed at him anew.
Under the pouring rain, Joseph didn't look the least bit dreary. His eyes seemed transparently clear and bright, as if you could see right through them. Even those black eyes, which had shown no spark when they first met, now gleamed independently of the weather.
Dressed in worn black training robes with knees rubbed thin, the only sign of his royal blood a single sword at his waist. Yet he looked truly divine, more noble than anyone.
'You've really changed a lot, Joseph.'
The realization hit her oddly.
Charlotte smiled softly, narrowing her eyes.
As she offered no reply and simply stared, Joseph asked in an even quieter voice.
"Let me put it simply."
"Okay."
"You're from the Setia Ducal House—the most prominent in Cheiker Kingdom, effortlessly amassing wealth and power, overflowing with accumulated assets."
"Huh? Uh..."
Charlotte wondered why he was bringing this up now, but since he had started the conversation for once, she listened without interrupting.
"And you're in an even better position than others. Direct line, direct line, direct line. You might not realize it, and since you lacked talent, you might have felt wronged... but it's a place anyone would reach for."
The story grew more puzzling.
"R...right? So?"
"So why hesitate like that?"
"...Huh? Me? Hesitate about what?"
"Settling for a sandwich lunch box."
"Wha...?"
What the heck was a sandwich lunch box?
'Separate from his princely dignity and grace, maybe Joseph's not great at telling stories in order?'
As Charlotte harbored that absurd suspicion, Joseph squeezed the clasped hand she had been gripping alone.
Startled a little, she watched as he spoke softly.
"You're used to people hating you by now, aren't you?"
"...Huh?"
"So why act like a kid desperate not to be hated?"
'A kid desperate not to be hated.'
The words pricked at her heart.
She snapped back curtly without thinking.
"When did I ever do that?"
"When? You flinch even at things that should be yours by right. How can you ask that after being ignored by those idiots, saddled with ridiculous nicknames, and forgetting your own place?"
"...Ah."
She finally caught on.
Then, surprised—no, shocked speechless—she stared at Joseph with wide eyes. Her long lashes, tinged with pink, fluttered like her flustered heart.
She wanted to deny it, say she didn't care about trivial things...
But the words wouldn't come.
She hadn't realized she came across that way in his eyes.
She had never imagined anyone—least of all him or others—saw her like that.
Shaaaa—.
For some reason, for the first time, Charlotte found it hard to meet Joseph's black eyes and averted her gaze to the pouring rain.
The rain showed no sign of letting up, devouring the sky and earth.
Puddles formed on the dirt ground she had painstakingly cleared of stones, each one exploding under heavy drops.
Drip, drip. Drip.
Drawn by the steady little sounds, she looked closer. Droplets gathered on the dark green leaves of the massive tree sheltering them fell in tiny streams.
The distant rain poured in indistinguishable sheets, but up close, each drop sliding down the leaves was distinct.
'Yeah... does the truth reveal itself easily when you're close?'
It felt... like someone had seen through her for the first time. Embarrassing.
Saying thanks for small things made her seem naively likable, but it wasn't that.
It was because her life at Mount Hua Sect had been like a servant's—no, a slave's. An orphan who had never known parents.
Expecting anything felt too foreign, too awkward.
Even possessing something felt strange; she was just grateful for whatever came.
And above all, having people who cared for her felt unreal... like they could turn away any moment.
Unless she was perfect for them.
Like when her senior brother pushed her off the cliff.
After a long silence, her pale face tight-lipped, Charlotte slowly spoke.
"...Why? Is it wrong? For me not to want to be hated?"
Her voice came out sharper than intended.
Joseph shook his head gently.
Then, lowering his voice earnestly, as if to soothe her stirred heart, he quickly added.
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what?"
"Unshakable allies who won't disappear. They should be parents, but neither of us had that. I understand your heart best."
"...Joseph?"
It was the first time he acknowledged her weak spot.
Unable to push back strongly, Charlotte softened.
"...Thanks for saying that, but I'm plenty strong now..."
"Even without it, know you're enough now. Demand more—enjoy what's rightfully yours from your position."
"Enough how?"
"...Words won't cut it. Forget it. I brought up something pointless. Just wait."
"Wait?"
"Yeah."
Wait for what?
Her gaze, brimming with curiosity, turned back to Joseph.