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Chapter 21
This duel itself was a bad move for Kardel Lucio.
A kid he had never even heard of.
And three years younger than himself!
Yet he threw down his gauntlet.
To avenge the insult to his fiancée!
“A mighty love of a thousand years, indeed.”
Though losing was the problem.
“That is a family heirloom sword. If you value honor, you shouldn’t speak like that to a knight. I’ll have a better sword prepared for you instead.”
“Is getting beaten by a ten-year-old really so honorable…?”
“Y-you were the one who first dishonored my fiancée.”
“And it’s fine for my family’s honor to be sullied?”
Abel glanced diagonally.
Most of the onlookers had left the training ground, leaving only their guardians helplessly watching.
They weren’t far, but not close enough to hear their voices clearly.
Abel frowned and added,
“When the princess’s fiancé mocked me, you stayed silent.”
“……”
“I’m not asking you to take my side. But the moment the princess tolerated that, you lost the right to speak up in the opposite case.”
“…You practically threatened my fiancé.”
“Yes, well, then it’s just karma.”
Abel nodded halfheartedly and quickly turned his back.
At his feet lay the sword Kardel had dropped.
“Looks plausible.”
Abel examined the blade from top to bottom as if sensing its value.
“I wonder if it’ll be worth more if I sell it later.”
Because the sword itself was valuable.
When the sharp blade caught the sunlight, it gleamed pure white.
“Bae-el!”
“Kardel.”
The guardians rushed over to their daughters.
A heavy, warm hand rested on Abel’s shoulders.
“Bel, are you hurt anywhere?”
“No. I said I’d beat them all up. But I was too lazy to actually fight, just threw the sword.”
“…Good. Why are you holding that sword?”
“My trophy.”
“Huh?”
“I got it from the duel. Dad, you’re a knight, don’t you know that?”
The source was unknown, but if it was truly a treasured heirloom sword—or something nearly equivalent—its value was incomparable to any bounty on wanted criminals.
“Bel, wouldn’t this be precious to Princess Lucio too? It looks quite valuable at a glance.”
“That’s why it’s worth bringing home.”
His way of inspecting the sword’s handle was like a well-fed cat.
Dain pressed his forehead and looked away with a crooked gaze.
A woman approached the father and daughter.
It was Sage Lucio, mother of Kardel Lucio, holding a black sword scabbard.
“Princess Delaphion.”
“Mother, no, Your Majesty!”
“Enough, Kardel Lucio. Don’t embarrass yourself further.”
A dirty blonde lock swung beside her ear, same as her daughter’s.
She carefully sheathed the sword Abel had held and looked at her daughter.
“You must take responsibility for the words you spoke yourself. Or is the family name so cheap you can throw it away?”
“Ah, no. No, that’s not…”
“Here. Deliver it to Princess Delaphion yourself.”
Can’t she just hand it over to anyone?
Abel’s patience was running thin.
Suppressing the urge to snatch the sword back, Abel endured the aristocratic mother and daughter’s “procedure.”
“A promise is a promise. T-take it, Princess Delaphion.”
The luxurious sword was completely and perfectly in Abel’s hand.
The jewels embedded in the scabbard shimmered mysteriously.
“I could sell it for a high price later.”
Though its new owner was thinking nothing more than that.
In the garden before the detached palace.
Among the dense trees more like a forest than a garden, two children sat.
“You won?”
“Yeah. But try this apricot jam cookie first.”
The sticky cookie was stuffed into the boy’s mouth.
He chewed for a long time before opening his mouth after eating the cookie, macaron, and honeyed milk.
“So, you really won?”
“Why would I fake it?”
“How?”
“Fair and square.”
The green eyes cooled sharply.
If it had been the first time, Abel wouldn’t have stiffened at those eyes anymore.
How long had they been together now?
Not even half a year, but Abel already smiled slightly, brushing off such trifles.
“I think I’m getting better.”
If this continues, maybe success will come within two or three years.
Adjusting the loose ribbon, Abel said,
“It was easy. Took less than five minutes.”
“You said you never learned swordsmanship.”
“Yes.”
“Kardel Lucio has a reputation as a sword prodigy.”
“Right?”
“So how did you do it?”
“Prince, what’s the basis of swordsmanship?”
“The fundamentals? The spirit of a swordsman?”
“I don’t know that either. The basis of swordsmanship is the sword.”
The prince’s expression twisted as if hearing advice like “You get full if you eat.”
Abel hurriedly added before the trust she’d built collapsed.
“Then just take the sword away.”
“Huh?”
“And even a prodigy can’t defy gravity.”
“Say it briefly.”
“I just threw it.”
Swoosh.
The thick leaves swayed in the wind.
The two’s distance, which had grown slightly closer, widened again.
The prince moved his hips back subtly and muttered calmly,
“…You’re human.”
“I know.”
“Or maybe a bear?”
“How do I look? If you want, I can act more bear-like.”
“How?”
“Bears are fierce. Uh, they eat a lot, climb trees well, and also…”
“How’s that different from now?”
Pure confusion gleamed in his clear green eyes.
Abel Delaphion (10 years old / human), who ate well and climbed trees well but probably wasn’t fierce, kindly answered,
“Bears tear people apart.”
“…I see.”
Their distance grew a little more.
Abel closed the gap by the same amount she moved away.
“Bears aren’t bad, but don’t you think something smaller and cuter suits me better?”
“Smaller and cuter?”
“Yeees.”
Abel dragged out the word, tilting her head left and right.
Anyone with feeling would want to give her a candy for that look, but Chesya wasn’t buying it.
“You’re both wrong. You’re not small, and…”
Still smaller than peers, the boy muttered,
“Not cute either.”
“Not yet.”
This dry soul rarely moistens. How can this face still not be cute?
But it was much better than before, so she had to be satisfied.
If it was the first time, he wouldn’t have accepted such trivial chit-chat at all.
Discovering this subtle difference made her resolve even firmer.
“If we stick together like this for a few more years…”
But life wouldn’t let things go as Abel planned.
“You’re here.”
At the very end of the royal palace.
The garden of the detached palace where even servants rarely come.
A woman dressed in luxury approached the two.
“Are you Princess Delaphion?”
Her gaze was harsher than usual toward the first prince.
Abel reflexively reached out and held Chesya’s hand.
But the gesture didn’t last long.
“Follow me. Her Majesty the Queen wants to see you.”
The kingdom’s only queen, Felsia Lagracio.
Second princess of a neighboring country and the mother of the crown prince.
A woman who dismissed the existence of the first prince and was slowly draining the king’s and his expected lifespan.
“Why me?”
The maid walked without considering the ten-year-old’s short legs.
Holding her breath, Abel increased her stride but didn’t stop thinking.
“Is she crazy?”
Abel’s first meeting with the queen was far from good.
Because Abel was the playmate the queen despised the most—the first prince’s playmate.
Even otherwise, what interest would she have in the daughter of a mere baron?
“Maybe because I’m cute?”
Her tangled thoughts suddenly lightened.
“Then that’s possible.”
Because cuteness sometimes goes beyond simple preferences or likes.
Her chubby cheeks filled with air and puffed up.
In any other case, the queen’s attention would have been unnecessary.
No, it was worse than not having it.
“Prince, I…”
“Yes. Her Majesty the Queen has summoned you, so we must hurry.”
Though he spoke this, his eyes were unkind.
The first prince could not even decide whether to let his guest go.
The queen had deliberately reminded Chesya Lagracio—again!—of that fact.
Comparing her authority with the prince’s position.
“Ah, my head. This is such a pain.”
She had been making progress in closing the distance with the prince!
Thinking of her resigned and self-mocking gaze, Abel felt uneasy.
“Still just a kid.”
Two years younger than the prince, Abel grumbled and followed the maid
