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chapter 25
A hot wind stirred, rustling through the thick canopy. The dense trees swayed like waves crashing on a midnight sea.
“West wind,” Gray murmured, brushing back his ash-colored hair as he gauged the direction of the breeze.
His serious gaze was enough to make me tense up as well.
Today, in this nameless southern forest, a hunting tournament was being held in the name of praying for the Empire’s prosperity.
Compared to past hunts—little more than diversions where the ruling class chased after herbivores—it was unusual to choose the southern tropical rainforest as the stage.
When I asked why, the answer lay in the inferiority complex clinging to the imperial family like moss on history.
“A reptile habitat?”
“Yeah. There are plenty of giant lizards in the rainforest.”
“So if lions are felines, then dragons must be lizards? I suppose the whole point of designating this faraway southern jungle as the hunting grounds was to flaunt the Empire’s glory as standing above dragons.”
I shuddered at the ugliness of it, while Gray let out a cheerful laugh.
“Not wrong. But maybe keep the treasonous comments until after the princes arrive. If you’re dragged off for insulting royalty, I’ll have to come rescue you—”
The way he drew out his words carried a hint of complaint.
He said it playfully, but did Gray really think it was only natural that he’d come to rescue me? The glimpse into his subconscious made my chest feel oddly ticklish.
“It doesn’t seem like they’ve arrived yet… but still, what’s taking Uncle Gilbert so long? No word from him at all.”
I pretended to look around idly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Emperor’s spokesman delivering a lifeless ceremonial speech to no one in particular, young noblemen trying out their new longswords with reckless swings, and the anxious servants at their side—passing through my vision like a hazy backdrop.
It was eight in the morning. We still had to wait over two hours before the hunt could begin.
At the forest entrance, participants who had arrived early were busy checking their weapons inside makeshift tents.
“Since the moment we got here he was dragged off by his knightly comrades. You’ll be lucky if you see his face within five hours. That’s why procrastinating never ends well.”
Gray strapped his sword at his waist as he chatted with me.
“Think there’ll be crocodiles near the swamps?”
“You planning to catch one?”
“I’d have to if I want to win.”
His eyes gleamed. That made me wonder what the prize for winning was.
“No lady to dedicate the spoils to… maybe I’ll give them to you?”
“Wh–what? No, thanks.”
What if his secret fan club saw me? Do you think those girls ask you to correct their sword stances for no reason?
“I’m fine. But here.”
“Hm?”
I wasn’t asking for something; I was giving it. And it wasn’t as if I embroidered a handkerchief myself. This should be harmless enough.
“A charm for good luck. To ensure your safe return.”
Gray accepted the pure white ribbon without hesitation and immediately tied it around his arm.
“I’ll brag to my friends that my little sister gave me this as encouragement. I’ve always been a bit envious when I hear things like that.”
“Even though I’m not really your sister?”
“What does it matter.”
Honestly, this guy. I couldn’t help but look forward to seeing his reaction when the truth about my birth was revealed.
Would he burst into tears of joy, maybe?
…Nah, no way. That would be way too unfitting.
While I was lost in ridiculous thoughts, trumpets suddenly blared, loud enough to rattle my ears—the signal of the princes’ arrival.
“Show your respect! Their Highnesses the Princes are approaching!”
Servants prostrated flat on the ground, while Gray and I merely bowed our heads slightly.
There was nothing amusing about staring at patches of grass and dirt. I just wanted it over with before I got a crick in my neck. But with thirteen princes entering one by one, it took ages.
Will I get a chance to talk to him, I wonder?
If not, then I’d at least spy from afar. I’d be able to tell truth from falsehood just by the way he carried himself.
“Lastly, His Highness the Thirteenth Prince, Rosinante, enters.”
Even before the procession finished, impatient people began lifting their heads. Clearly, no one felt obliged to show courtesy to the lowest-ranked prince born of a concubine.
Ugh, if only I had a toy mallet—I’d love to play whack-a-mole right now.
A shadow fell over me. Not a toy mallet falling from the sky, but Rosinante himself stopping right in front of me.
“You came, my lady.”
“…”
Why is he acting familiar, when I even rejected his attempts at serious conversation?
I never imagined Rosinante would approach me so suddenly, so I couldn’t immediately respond or even lift my head.
“I braced myself not to be disappointed if I didn’t see you… but the moment I laid eyes on you, I realized how foolish that resolve was. After all…”
Just then, a flower drifted down between us from a tree. Pure white—I’d seen it before, though I couldn’t recall its name.
Bending with gentlemanly grace, Rosinante picked it up and met my gaze with practiced ease.
“…how could I possibly be disappointed when I feel this glad to see you?”
“…”
That smile of his was always so dazzling, I nearly smiled back without thinking.
“Do you like plumeria?”
Ah, that’s right. Plumeria. Its meaning was something like, ‘Meeting you was a stroke of fortune.’ Though whether meeting him was fortune or misfortune, I still couldn’t say.
“Well… I’m not particularly interested in flowers.”
“And receiving them…?”
“Of course, that makes me happy.”
“Ah! Then I’m relieved.”
Relieved? About what?
Maybe just that I wasn’t cold-blooded enough to treat flowers like trash.
“Please. I have at least some sense of romance.”
He gave me an awkward smile, brushing it aside.
He looked like Rosinante, acted like he knew me, but that could easily be imitated with the right disguise and thorough preparation.
The spy in the original story had been given these instructions:
“You need not shackle yourself by trying to mimic Prince Rosinante poorly. Instead, build influence. Court the Empire’s noble ladies. When our savior grows and returns, your mission, Shadow, is to establish the foundation of support that will raise him to the throne.”
He was the Holy Nation’s agent of light, code-named Shadow.
A man famed as an elite operative, possessing extraordinary skill, all while pretending to grow through effort—thus steadily raising Rosinante’s reputation.
In other words, at first, the double concealed his true strength.
I thought I’d be able to tell right away… but honestly, I can’t.
What unsettled me was the ambiguity: too soft to be a spy, too skilled to be the real Rosinante.
That left only one deciding factor: the results of the hunt. I’d better play it safe and hedge my bets.
“Here, take this.”
“What is it…?”
I pressed a small sachet into his hand, filled with dried petals and herbs.
A simple charm, meant for luck and safe return.
“I’ll treasure it,” Rosinante said, face alight with emotion.
And then Gray, who’d clearly been eavesdropping, cut in between us.
“I can’t believe it. So I wasn’t the only one getting special treatment.”
With a hearty laugh, Gray extended his hand to Rosinante.
“Seems you’re close with my sister. I look forward to today, Your Highness.”
“…As do I.”
Their gazes locked—and sparks practically crackled in the air. Their clasped hands bulged with tense veins.
Seriously? They’re already sizing each other up before the hunt even starts?
It made sense for Gray, since the prize was his goal. But Rosinante—why was he acting like this too? Was he really replaced by the spy?
“Levieta.”
“Yes?”
Gray called me with a smile, then gestured at the ribbon on his arm—his hand noticeably redder than before their handshake.
“Retie it for me.”
“But it’s… already tied…”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Gray tugged the knot loose.
“It was tied.”
Maybe it ran in the blood, but he really did have that same weird streak as Gilbert.
Not me, though. I took after Mother more than Father—lighter hair, kinder disposition.
How kind? Well… kind enough that, after tying Gray’s ribbon again, I obediently fixed Rosinante’s too when he asked.
“My lady, mine has come undone as well.”
“Fine, give it here.”
I felt like a kindergarten teacher.
But the instant the competition was about to begin, both men’s gazes hardened into steel.
“All participants of the hunting tournament, led by Their Highnesses the Princes, please gather at the starting area!”
As Rosinante walked toward the battleground, his back radiated determination.
And bit by bit, like the ticking of a clock, my conviction tilted toward one conclusion—
That he had indeed been replaced by the spy.
