Chapter 6
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: The Diligent Princess
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The fruit of the World Tree truly lived up to its reputation as a miracle drug. After drinking the tea sent by Emperor Justis, Philomel regained her strength. Her body and mind felt lighter than before.
The princess's literature class.
Philomel closed the book she had been reading and spoke to the literature teacher.
"I've finished it. What should I read next?"
"You've already read it? You didn't just skim through the pages, did you...?"
"I read it properly. If you doubt me, ask me some questions from it."
Philomel answered every question the teacher threw at her correctly.
The nanny and the teachers watched with wide eyes as the princess, who had barely risen from her sickbed, threw herself into her studies with such enthusiasm.
It was a complete departure from how she used to show no interest in the lessons, fool around, and just kill time.
When Philomel even took the initiative to compile questions about parts she didn't understand and visited the elderly foreign language teacher, he nearly fainted.
She even used her free time for extra lessons or quietly reading books.
Her time with Nassar was no exception.
"Um, Your Highness the Princess."
"Yes, Young Lord? I have a question. When did the Battle of Celia take place?"
"...In Imperial Year 132."
"Ah, right. Thanks for telling me. Nassar really is smart."
Nassar glanced at his fiancée, who was memorizing history books across from him.
"Shall we spend today doing our own things? Nassar, bring some work from home next time too. Even if it's just once a week, it's a shame to waste such precious time."
After saying that right to his face, Philomel opened her book and began studying without so much as glancing at Nassar.
Even when she occasionally asked him something she didn't know, her eyes stayed fixed on the book.
She even permitted him to borrow books from the palace library since he had come empty-handed, but he had no desire to do so.
Nassar sat there like a scarecrow, endlessly emptying the teacup in front of him.
It was the first time he had entered the palace to play with the princess and felt so idle. Until now, time had always flown by as he moved according to Philomel's whims.
'Is she angry at me?'
Though he knew it was impolite, Nassar stared intently at her small face buried in her book, concentrating fiercely.
Philomel wasn't angry at all—she treated Nassar with a consistent smile—but there was a strange sense of distance.
It felt awkward, like a thin glass wall separated them. Philomel, who showed no interest in him whatsoever.
The young lord tilted his head at the unfamiliar feeling.
For some reason, it didn't sit well with him. There had been times when he wished the princess would act a bit more mature, but...
Now, it felt utterly wrong.
The changes weren't limited to that. The number of times the princess lashed out at her inferiors had sharply decreased.
Crash!
"Ah! I'm sorry! Your Highness!"
The teacup dropped by the maid shattered into pieces. The bluebird painted on it split into three fragments.
It was a gift from Young Duke Averyden on her birthday last year—one of the princess's most cherished possessions.
"I-I'm sorry! Truly sorry!"
Trembling at the thought of severe punishment, the maid apologized profusely.
In truth, even if the princess got angry, the nanny would shield her, so it wouldn't be a big deal. But lately, she had fallen out of the nanny's favor. She had gone home on vacation and forgotten to bring back a souvenir for the nanny.
She braced herself for Philomel's sharp scolding.
But...
"What are you doing? Clean it up quickly."
"Pardon?"
"The carpet will get soaked. Clean it and get out."
"Y-Yes! Understood!"
The maid hurriedly gathered the broken pieces.
Philomel's next words were even more unexpected.
"Be careful not to cut yourself. People matter more than some teacup."
The princess, who would have thrown a tantrum in the past, was worrying about a mere maid's hand.
Stunned, the maid gossiped about her bizarre experience to every palace servant she met from that day on.
At first, most dismissed the princess's changes as a fleeting whim.
"She must have gotten a stern scolding from His Majesty over the Founding Festival incident."
"How long will it last? She'll be back to normal before you know it."
"At least the palace will be quiet for a while."
They remembered the princess's usual behavior all too well.
A sensitive, whiny child.
A troublemaker who shirked her duties as a princess to scheme ways to play.
But as the changes persisted for days—one day, two days, then a week—everyone had to rethink their assumptions.
The troublesome princess had finally grown up.
To others, Philomel's desperate struggle for survival simply looked like she had matured.
"All our devoted efforts in teaching Her Highness have paid off. I would have regretted retiring just because my back hurt a little."
The nanny acted as if it were all her doing, mimicking a great educator who had reformed Philomel.
"As expected of you, Nanny."
"Impressive."
Philomel let the nanny's arrogance and the maids' flattery flow in one ear and out the other.
And whether word of Philomel had reached the emperor's ears, a few days later, she was summoned to him.
It was lunchtime. Exotic dishes were laid out one by one before the two seated at opposite ends of the long dining table.
Philomel tensed under the emperor's sharp gaze, barely aware of where her food was going, but she tried to appear composed.
'Why did he call me?'
There was no way he suddenly wanted a cozy father-daughter meal.
The emperor finally spoke, his voice heavy.
"I've heard the stories. You're devoting yourself to your studies. That's a good attitude."
His indifferent tone made it take a moment to register as praise.
Dining with her father, praise from her father's mouth—it was all a first.
Things she had so desperately longed for had lost their meaning, and only now they came to her.
Philomel responded politely for now.
"...Thank you. But I still have a long way to go."
"Your teachers couldn't stop praising you."
"It's all thanks to Your Majesty assigning me such excellent teachers."
Your Majesty?
The unfamiliar ring of the word made Justis furrow his brow. Everyone called him that, but Philomel had always used 'Father.'
"...You've grown quite mature in how you speak while I wasn't looking."
"Now, as a member of the imperial family, I must strive to uphold the dignity befitting my position."
Philomel smiled. It was a subtle lift of the corners of her mouth, not baring her teeth.
The emperor gazed quietly at Philomel's 'aristocratic smile.' If he knew his daughter even a little better, his keen senses would have detected how utterly unnatural these recent changes were.
But the oblivious Justis felt only a slight unease, nothing more.
"I see. Keep striving like that."
"Yes. I will."
"By the way, is your health fully recovered now? Your cold is completely gone?"
Philomel's fork paused over her plate for a moment. She hadn't expected Justis to inquire about her well-being.
"...I fully recovered after taking the medicine Your Majesty sent."
It felt strange, as if he genuinely cared.
'No. I can't let my resolve weaken over some casual kindness thrown like charity.'
Philomel steeled herself once more.
If her fake identity was exposed, or if she didn't obey him meekly, this man would eventually kill her.
"That's a relief. Your mother was frail too."
"...Yes."
Just as he wasn't her father, the empress she had thought of as her mother for nearly a decade wasn't Philomel's real mother either.
Justis, who had briefly gazed into space, looked back at Philomel.
"As praise for your hard work, tell me if there's anything you want. I'll grant it if I can."
Praise, concern, and now rewards.
Philomel swallowed hard.
What she had been waiting for had arrived.
The emperor always clearly distinguished rewards from punishments for everyone. Harsh penalties for the underperformers. Rewards for those who produced results.
She had anticipated he might say something like this to her.
But she couldn't blurt out her desire the moment he asked.
Philomel concealed her true intentions for now.
"Nothing in particular. It's an honor just to be acknowledged by Your Majesty."
The emperor slowly brought his wine glass to his lips.
"Modest, are you? But one who will ascend the throne should have a healthy dose of ambition."
After he put it that way, she could drop the act.
Philomel pretended to hesitate before speaking.
"Well, there is something... A favor I'd like to ask of Your Majesty."
"What is it?"
Philomel conveyed the wish she had been harboring for a long time to the emperor. She hoped her first attempt at acting would feel natural, that it would come across as utterly sincere.