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Chapter 22
“Compared to the insight of others, I may be lacking, but…”
I began to speak aloud the lore of Silent Night that I had been recalling in my head, without stumbling.
Everyone looked surprised at how well I knew it.
Especially Bishop Charnel, whose gaze was usually sharp when it came to theology, now softened like cotton candy.
Since I had memorized her sermon from the novel word for word, I felt like a child showing off in front of a teacher.
“It is said that when the Lord was in the mortal realm, He greatly enjoyed making wagers. And sometimes, in the midst of these wagers, He would grant requests without asking for any price.”
In Silent Night, Charnel had proudly declared even this side of God to be part of His mercy.
But—
“…Huh?”
Unlike the novel, Charnel’s expression stiffened.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Judging by her reaction, it seemed so. But I couldn’t easily accept it.
‘If this wasn’t a story tied to my favorite character, I wouldn’t have cared if I misremembered. But since it was, I’d reread Charnel’s sermons countless times. I was confident I could write them down word for word without even looking.’
At that moment, the Duke broke the suffocating silence.
“I heard you haven’t officially begun studying theology yet. When did you come to know so much about it?”
“…Through books.”
I answered, bewildered. The Emperor stroked his chin and chuckled heartily.
“If you’ve learned that much on your own by reading, that’s truly impressive! Wouldn’t you agree, Bishop Charnel?”
“Yes. To seek out knowledge and study before formal instruction is commendable, an example for all citizens of the Empire.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile.
“However, as a bishop, I must correct the part your ladyship has misunderstood.”
…Misunderstood?
I pressed my lips shut to stop my voice from slipping out.
“There is no record of the Lord ever enjoying wagers, nor of Him granting requests without compensation.”
“…I see.”
I hid my turmoil behind a calm expression. From everyone else’s reactions, it was clear Charnel was right.
“The Lord, Father of All, would never lower Himself to such base and shameful desires.”
Charnel’s nose twitched as if the mere thought disgusted her.
This stood in stark contrast to the novel, where she had exalted it as another facet of divine mercy.
The ceremony concluded without further incident.
The Duke remained behind for a private audience with the Emperor, so I went ahead to fetch Fey from the Crown Prince’s palace.
‘I remembered that detail exactly. Word for word.’
No matter how many times I went over it in my head, I wasn’t mistaken.
That meant there was a difference in information. And there was only one possible cause.
The time gap between the original novel and the present.
‘I’ll have to be careful about things like this from now on.’
The thought of nearly being lectured in theology by Bishop Charnel made my stomach go cold.
‘Thank goodness the Duke spoke up and broke the tension.’
I felt a flicker of gratitude.
If that had happened after I met the Emperor, I might have been foolish enough to take it as a sign of kindness and grow attached.
I might even have been a little moved—maybe even fluttered—thinking he stood up for me.
But now I knew better. He hadn’t spoken for my sake.
Sighing, I forced myself to stop thinking about him.
Instead, I turned my thoughts to the master of the Crown Prince’s palace, whom I was about to meet.
‘At last, I’ll see the male protagonist.’
The heaviness on my face lifted, replaced with excitement.
My favorite character’s rival. The male lead was sly if described nicely, and downright insufferable if described honestly.
‘Wasn’t he a year younger than my favorite?’
I wondered how his “baby version” would look.
Being the protagonist, perhaps he would even seem more mature than my favorite.
“The Crown Prince and the young lord are inside.”
The Crown Prince intrigued me, but my heart longed more strongly for my favorite.
I hurried my steps and entered.
And froze in disbelief.
“Big broooother! Play with meee!”
A blond boy, shorter than my favorite, was wobbling atop a chair, swinging a toy sword toward the wardrobe.
And on top of that wardrobe—
“Oh, heavens!”
“Fey?!”
My favorite, shrunken into his beast form like a tiny cat, perked up his ears. He leapt down toward me without hesitation.
He landed gracefully at my feet and instantly turned human.
“Auntie! Pick me up!”
Arms outstretched, he wanted to be held. My stiff face softened as I gathered him into my arms.
My heart nearly dropped when I saw him leaping so close to that sword—he could’ve been hurt.
At least he didn’t seem injured.
“Not a single scratch?”
“Uh-huh! None!”
I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“Auntie, where’s Uncle?”
“He’ll be here soon. Shall we wait outside?”
“Okay!”
But then, as if he’d heard us, the little boy with the toy sword—surely the male lead, Frederick—scrunched his nose in dismay.
“Big brooother, don’t gooo! Don’t gooo!”
He hurried toward us with his stubby legs.
I couldn’t help but watch—he looked dangerously unsteady.
‘At this rate—’
“Fey, wait here a sec.”
I set my favorite down and moved toward Frederick just in time.
Sure enough, he lost his balance and toppled.
I caught him before he hit the ground.
‘Phew.’
What luck I had moved early.
“Hiccup.”
Dangling in my arms, Frederick’s plump cheeks trembled, his eyes brimming with tears from the fright.
For all the mischief he’d shown toward Fey, he was still just a child.
“You must’ve been scared almost falling like that. Are you all right?”
Surprisingly, Frederick tried to hold back his tears.
I had expected him to bawl instantly, like any other three-year-old.
“….”
Instead, he silently pointed at the ground.
I set him down gently.
Once his feet touched the floor, he rubbed his eyes roughly with his sleeve and looked to Fey.
“B-brother, I almost fell…”
Fey pressed his lips tightly shut.
“…Are you really going to leave?”
“I…”
His golden eyes flicked toward me, as if seeking confirmation.
I smiled softly, telling him wordlessly: Do as you wish, not as I expect.
After a moment, Fey grasped my hand.
“I’ll go.”
Frederick’s face flushed red.
This time, the tears he had held back burst forth, streaming endlessly.
He collapsed onto the floor as if it were his bed.
“Don’t goooo! Don’t goooo! Big brotheeer!”
He thrashed, rolled, flailed his arms, and screamed so loudly it felt like the ceiling might crack.
The noise left my mind blank.
Thankfully, just then, the Crown Prince’s nurse entered with the Duke.
“Y-your Highness!?”
Startled, the nurse rushed to soothe him.
Beside me, Fey’s small hand clenched tighter around mine, his gaze trembling as it met the Duke’s furrowed brow.
“I know that look. You don’t understand what’s happening, but your frown makes him nervous. Please relax—I’ll explain everything.”
I signaled Fey reassuringly.
The Duke seemed to realize then that his unconscious frown had unsettled Fey, and he smoothed his expression.
Once Frederick had calmed somewhat, I explained what had happened.
The more I spoke, the paler the nurse’s face became.
“I-I apologize. His Highness is very fond of the young lord and usually takes good care of him, so I thought it safe to leave them briefly alone…”
“No matter how close they are, a child should never be left unattended.”
I had no reason to spare an adult from accountability.
“I’m sorry, madam.”
I observed the nurse and Frederick a moment longer, then quietly stepped outside.
‘I’d almost thought all the story’s children were unusually well-behaved because Fey was so gentle. But the male lead proved otherwise.’
‘Still… were they really this close in the beginning?’
That was unexpected.
From the novel, where they often clashed, I had assumed their relationship was never warm—even before Fey turned against the royal family.
I knelt down beside Fey.
“Fey, would you tell me what happened with the Crown Prince earlier?”
Only if you want to.
My voice was gentle. His amber eyes rolled uneasily, his small fingers twitching in mine.
“Well…”
He bit his lip, then whispered:
“…When my ears went pop out earlier, Redrick pulled them.”
“…He pulled them?”
Those sensitive ears?
Anger flared in my chest. I inhaled deeply to cool it. Now was the time to listen.
“Uh-huh. So I said I didn’t want to play anymore, and he cried and grabbed my arm. That didn’t really hurt, but…”
“But?”
“…I didn’t like it. So I climbed on top of the wardrobe.”
His voice trailed off.
Like a child being scolded, he avoided the Duke’s gaze, dropping his eyes to the floor.
“It must’ve hurt when he pulled your ears. They’re so sensitive.”
You don’t need to feel guilty.
I hugged him tightly.
Duke, if you were about to say something unhelpful, please keep your mouth shut. And don’t you dare scold him either.
I beamed to make my meaning clear, and the Duke closed his mouth.
At first Fey stiffened like stone in my arms, but then he wrapped his arms around my neck.
“…It wasn’t just today. Sometimes he hits me with toy swords when we’re playing, and if I don’t do what he wants, he cries. But I’m older, and I’m supposed to be dependable. So I kept putting up with it, even when I wasn’t okay. But when he pulled my ears, it really hurt.”
So he confessed.
I patted his back steadily. He clutched me tighter.
“Auntie, I missed you.”
