TVSI 03

Chapter 03

The current emperor had neither princes nor princesses yet.

The empress would not give birth to a princess until two years later, when I turned twelve. Naturally, with no direct imperial descendants at present, the highest-ranking child among my peers was unquestionably Emil Calixte.

The sole legitimate heir of the Calixte Ducal House.

And more importantly, a child of imperial blood born to Princess Robelin Castone.

Yet people still prioritized Rastain of House Lucretius or Hildred of the Raymon Marquisate over Emil.

The sideways glances haven’t changed at all.

The reason was simple.

Robelin Castone—the woman who gave birth to Emil.

Everyone’s avoiding him.

Even though this was merely the birthday banquet of a ten-year-old marquis’s daughter, events like this naturally revolved around adults.

After accepting gifts one by one in the grand banquet hall as the guest of honor, I guided the children into a playroom specially prepared in a guest reception chamber.

And now—

Groups of children around nine or ten years old gathered together in little circles.

Everyone except Emil.

He sat alone by the window, isolated.

Our eyes met for a moment—golden eyes catching mine.

I tried to smile quickly, but we missed each other’s gaze.

It’d be better to approach him directly.

Seeing my chance, I started walking toward him.

But I barely took a few steps before someone timidly stopped me.

“M-My Lady Lancaster… happy tenth birthday. Truly.”

It was the daughter of Count Bute.

Her name was… Blensia En Riviere Bute.

Behind her stood Hildred Raymon, offering me a neat, polite nod.

So he sent her on purpose.

I greeted Blensia with a bright smile.

“Thank you, Lady Bute. I’m glad you came today.”

“O-Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve wanted to meet Lady Lancaster for a long time. My parents always said both the Marquis and Marchioness are extraordinary people… and that you’re remarkable too.”

I had heard the same thing countless times before my regression.

Belsia Lancaster.

The daughter of Ismeralda Ephrish and Genuart Lancaster.

My parents had stopped the villainess’s crimes and earned the trust of the emperor, who had still been crown prince at the time. They had also played the biggest role in bringing Robelin to execution for the innocent victims she harmed.

As a result, the public trusted and admired them deeply.

The problem was—

All of those expectations had passed directly onto me.

Emil had been the same.

Looking back, Emil and I had been different, yet strangely alike.

“I’m not as amazing as my parents,” I said softly. “If I turned out to be ordinary, would you be disappointed, Lady Bute?”

“Huh? O-Of course not! I would never! Who am I to say anything like that? Besides, Lady Lancaster and ordinary don’t exactly—”

“Thank you! I really wanted to become close friends with you, Lady Bute.”

I knew exactly what she had been trying to say, but I pretended not to.

Smiling brightly, I clasped her hands.

Her puppy-like face instantly flushed bright red.

“I-I wanted to be friends with Lady Lancaster too…”

By the end, her voice had shrunk to nearly a whisper.

Good.

The groundwork was set.

After seeing me so openly socialize with Blensia, the other children who had been sneaking glances started inching closer.

Did you see that, Hildred Raymon?

Hildred had always been sensitive about his standing.

Clever. Calculating.

He knew that if Emil became accepted, public attention would shift toward him.

And that would split the spotlight between himself and Rastain.

You know how older siblings sometimes bully a newborn sibling just to regain attention from their parents?

It was similar.

Hildred’s isolation of Emil was born from obsession with securing his own place.

But I intended to naturally include Emil.

“Should we stop standing around and go eat cake?”

“Cake!”

In an instant, every child’s attention shifted.

Right then, the large doors opened.

The head chef entered alongside an enormous five-tier cake.

The children’s eyes sparkled.

“Please wait a moment.”

The chef smiled warmly and expertly sliced the cake.

Cute little gasps of admiration rose from every direction.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I shot Hildred a glance and approached Emil.

“Hello, Young Master Calixte.”

He turned his head.

Golden eyes, metallic in the sunlight.

The moment our gazes met, unexpectedly—

I became nervous.

My heart pounded.

Images of Emil flashed through my mind.

Sneaking out to watch festivals.

Smiling awkwardly.

Apologizing to me.

All the countless versions of Emil I had known overlapped.

And alongside those precious memories came another emotion.

The urge to ask—

Why did you kill the people I loved?

This Emil was only eleven.

A child.

Yet resentment almost slipped through.

Emil stared blankly at me before quickly masking his surprise.

Why is she here?

His expression turned unreadable, but confusion lingered there.

It almost felt like I could hear his thoughts.

Ten-year-old Emil had always been alone.

Fragile.

Desperately wanting to belong somewhere, but never managing to.

He reminded me of my former self.

That was why I had cared.

Why I wanted to comfort him.

But maybe that was all it had been.

Unlike me, the person who had truly loved and cherished Emil had been my mother.

Maybe I’d only wanted the satisfaction of making him happy.

He had been precious to me.

But perhaps I had never truly accepted him as family.

Even now, I’m only approaching him to prevent my parents’ deaths.

Thinking that made me feel cruel.

Like I was taking advantage of a lonely child desperate for affection.

But hesitation wasn’t an option.

That future had to be stopped.

I don’t have a choice. Otherwise, he might kill my family again.

Instead of answering the confusion in his eyes, I held out my hand.

“Would you like to go eat cake together?”

Even with my hand extended, Emil hesitated.

Not avoidance—

More like confusion.

As if he had encountered something completely unfamiliar.

Finally, he asked quietly,

“Together?”

“Don’t want to?”

“No… it’s not that…”

In the end, I grabbed his hand first.

“Come on.”

And just like that—

His familiar warmth followed obediently.

By the time the chef finished slicing the cake and left, only a few attendants remained.

The moment I returned with Emil, the room went silent.

Among children, Emil was treated almost like a monster because of Robelin’s crimes.

The rumors didn’t help.

Some claimed Robelin had turned into a demon and haunted Emil.

Others whispered nonsense about him eating people.

Robelin’s reputation had been that terrible.

One child hiccuped nervously while gripping a fork.

Clearly terrified.

“Hic…”

The cheerful atmosphere vanished in seconds.

“…”

Emil opened his mouth to say something—

Then closed it and tried to pull away.

“It’s okay.”

“Okay…?”

I pretended not to understand why everyone looked scared.

“Mom told me to become friends with Young Master Calixte.”

It wasn’t even a lie.

After the Duke of Calixte sent Emil to my birthday party—the first time he had ever let the boy appear publicly—Mom occasionally brought Emil to stay at our estate for days.

And not out of simple kindness either.

Every time she did, she negotiated with the Duke, offering mining rights or political influence in exchange.

“I heard you already finished the Ivnea Scriptures,” I said brightly. “And that you’re moving onto the Clausewitz Scriptures next.”

The scriptures were widely studied across the continent.

Books divided by historical eras and named after saints.

I wrapped both my hands around Emil’s.

The children’s eyes shifted.

Now it looked like I admired his intelligence.

“That’s not really impressive…”

“I still haven’t finished them. I bet you’re the only one here who has.”

Naturally.

The Ivnea Scriptures were usually studied until age fifteen.

Everyone here was around ten.

Maybe twelve at most.

Hildred might be nearing the end, but he still hadn’t finished.

Me?

I finished at five.

A secret, of course.

“Do you study Northern Roban too?”

“Only a little…”

“I just started recently! Who teaches you?”

“…I learn on my own.”

The person teaching Emil wasn’t a noble, so naturally he couldn’t mention them.

Perfect.

On the surface, it just sounded like he was self-taught.

I reacted to every answer with admiration.

Having grown up around Father’s endless doting, acting impressed came easily.

“What about history?”

“Philosophy?”

“Geography?”

After asking enough questions for everyone to hear, I nodded knowingly.

Then I delivered the final blow.

“Please be my friend.”

“Huh—!”

Suddenly, Blensia shot to her feet, face burning red.

Emil looked equally stunned.

His ears slowly turned red too.

“Friend…?”

Panicked, Emil glanced at the others.

Just like before.

He always checked other people first.

Always tried to retreat.

“Don’t want to?”

“…”

“Oh… I guess you don’t…”

“N-No…”

The moment he agreed, I beamed.

“Thank you!”

Then—

Stammering, Blensia suddenly blurted out,

“N-No! He doesn’t suit Lady Lancaster!”

“Am I not good enough?”

“T-That’s not what I mean! Young Master Calixte is—!”

“He’s amazing, isn’t he?”

That statement was dangerous.

After all, whatever people thought of Robelin, Emil himself held impeccable status.

Robelin had been an imperial princess.

Imperial blood flowed through him.

People always forgot that.

Adults are always the problem.

I slowly released Emil’s hand.

Just before I did, his fingers twitched faintly.

If someone criticized his birth, the children would remember his true status.

But that would also humiliate Blensia.

And I didn’t want Emil accepted because of rank.

I wanted him to have real friends.

Children weren’t guilty.

Adults were the ones planting prejudice.

“Blensia.”

“Y-Yes…”

“You said we were friends, didn’t you?”

My teasing tone made her freeze.

“Friends of friends are friends.”

“…Huh?”

“So that means you’re already friends with Young Master Calixte.”

Somewhere nearby, someone scoffed.

Probably Hildred.

I ignored it.

Leading Blensia forward, I introduced her.

“Young Master Calixte, this is my friend, Blensia of House Bute.”

“My very first friend.”

I deliberately emphasized the word friend.

“L-Lady Belsia…”

“I…”

Emil looked helplessly at me.

Blensia looked just as overwhelmed.

I blinked innocently.

You don’t dislike him, right?

Unable to refuse, Blensia finally muttered,

“Y-You can call me Blensia…”

“…Okay.”

And just like that—

The two children became friends.

Smiling brightly, I turned toward the others.

“Anyone else want to be friends?”