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chapter 38
“Tch,” Diego clicked his tongue and spoke with a face of disgust.
“You didn’t come here to fight me personally, so put down that arrogant hand of yours.”
Rocinante didn’t lower his hand.
A wise choice. There was something off about Diego’s words.
“‘Personally’?”
Was he planning to pull the same cheap trick as last time and call in reinforcements?
Suspiciously, I glared at Diego, and he took a step back.
At the tip of Diego’s outstretched hand—the hand that seemed ready to reveal a trump card—was Ibmaria, who had come here with him.
‘When did he even get that?’
Ibmaria was gripping a magical staff with both hands, taller than her own height.
A staff made from a special metal that channels magical energy. Embedded with a gem designed to amplify mana. From the way it was crafted, with its multifaceted gem, it was clearly not something easily obtained.
‘Probably Kaulen got it for her. Typical doting father.’
Hearing the mention of magic, Zerodines perked up, brushing his chin thoughtfully.
Well, to cut to the chase, having a flashy weapon didn’t seem to prevent the archmage’s harsh criticism.
—A pearl necklace on a pig’s neck. No, that’s even too generous.
A sneer spread across his mouth.
—If you rely on items from the time you’re a fledgling, you’ll lose your drive to grow. Without question, this is a fight my chick will win.
“My chick…?”
Surely he’s not referring to me, right?
Before I could even have the luxury of panicking, Diego dropped a bombshell.
“Leviata Grimroar! I formally challenge you to a duel.”
“You want to fight me?”
No matter how young, how could a man dare formally challenge a lady to a duel?
At Diego’s words, Rocinante’s gaze turned ice-cold.
The murderous intent that had flared so vividly, as if ready to annihilate an enemy, dissolved into nothingness because of Diego’s denial.
“Hah! Nonsense. This isn’t me challenging anyone—it’s the First Princess challenging the Thirteenth Princess to a duel.”
“Fight me, Leviata. Let’s settle this with magic, fair and square.”
Ibmaria echoed Diego’s words, pointing the tip of her staff toward me.
‘I’m fine.’
Rocinante, on high alert, was about to step in with a kick, but my reassurance stopped him.
Diego sneered at us.
“Good. At least the woman’s wise. You’re probably feeling smug because you cheated your way to victory in that little hunting contest, but you’re still a worm crawling at the bottom of the hierarchy. Got it?”
They say insults reveal the speaker’s own inadequacies.
By bloodline and rank, it’s true—the First Prince Diego is far ahead of the Thirteenth Prince Rocinante. But ultimately, stripped of numbers, Diego is the same prince-level rank as Rocinante.
Even at the moment of succession, the emperor does not appoint Diego as crown prince.
‘The emperor dreaming of immortality probably doesn’t need an heir.’
A greedy empress, an oblivious first prince, and a lust-blinded emperor. What a fitting family.
Knowing a smooth succession was impossible, Diego wouldn’t waste time in trivial power struggles.
‘Well, what does he know? All he cares about is stepping on weaklings in front of him.’
Diego ground his teeth.
“Like the worthless trash you are, don’t do anything pointless—just stay behind and watch quietly.”
Even in the face of such cruel words meant to annihilate his dignity, Rocinante remained composed. A shadow doesn’t get angry when its master is insulted.
Seeing Rocinante’s lack of reaction, Diego lost interest and turned sharply to look at me.
“A magical duel between princesses? I’m looking forward to a fierce catfight.”
A cruel smile spread across his face.
He must have foreseen a few moves ahead. As Zerodines said, Diego was trying to start a fight between chicks.
What benefit could he gain from a duel between princesses unrelated to the hierarchy? I hid my scornful gaze and asked Ibmaria.
“You’re really going to fight me?”
“How dare you ask that! Because of your useless antics, Aunt Himena got hurt. You didn’t apologize for that. You’re shameless and clueless.”
I’ve lost my lessons and my advisor. Kaulen would get a new chaperone, but it wouldn’t feel right.
But all of that had nothing to do with me.
I replied coldly.
“So what? If you need guidance, just come to the etiquette hall like the other young ladies instead of whining.”
“I don’t want to be mixed in with ordinary people. I’m special. His Majesty said so.”
Ibmaria poked her head toward Diego.
“Isn’t that right?”
“Of course. Ibmaria, you’re my one and only princess and a mage with a star. You’re unique and special, incomparable to any trivial mage with scraps of stars.”
They were like a cult leader and a devoted follower, brainwashed and deceived.
‘Come to think of it, I’ve never seen Ibmaria’s power as a mage awakened.’
Might as well take this chance to see it in action.
I stepped past Rocinante and moved forward.
“Fine, I’ll do it. If I win, neither you nor the prince will rudely enter the Thirteenth Prince’s palace again.”
Rocinante was uneasy beside me, but I didn’t budge.
No reason to. With the archmage’s “cheat key,” losing would be difficult.
“Good. If Ibmaria wins, you can’t wear the dress reserved for your debutante day.”
A strange request, but I agreed. Assuming I would lose was meaningless.
“Alright. We fight until one falls first, right?”
But the moment Diego interjected, I sensed something was off.
“Oh, I can’t let a lady get hurt. This will be the duel.”
“……I thought this was a magical duel?”
Why a gun?
Diego pulled a pistol from his coat and tossed it onto the table between Ibmaria and me.
“It’s a weapon that fires shockwaves when mana is charged and loaded. I’ve modified it so attacks don’t go off randomly.”
With Diego voluntarily as the target, Ibmaria grabbed the magic gun before I did.
Bang—!
A loud noise and smoke, yet Diego remained completely unharmed.
Ibmaria flipped the gun upside down, turning the grip toward me.
“Now, it’s your turn.”
“……”
Rocinante willingly became the target, but I couldn’t shoot him, not knowing what trick Diego had used.
‘He might have made it respond only to strong magic.’
If so, I could even use Zerodines’ power to put Rocinante in danger.
Quickly assessing the situation, I lightly tapped Ibmaria’s hand.
“No. I give up.”
Ibmaria cheered and ran to Diego, jumping for joy.
Rocinante came closer, asking cautiously.
“Why didn’t you shoot me?”
“…Because you’re my husband.”
Our gazes tangled briefly, broken by Diego’s voice.
“Hah! That’s why weeds need to be trampled. You lost the duel, so you can’t wear the dress you reserved.”
“Yes, understood.”
Unsatisfied with my bland response, Diego continued rambling.
“Just so you know, the dress shops in the capital are fully booked. Whether a personal designer or a royal tailor, they won’t postpone a dress for some insignificant Thirteenth Princess.”
So that’s why he was obsessed with the dress.
“For a debutante, only a royal-approved dress can be worn. Try your best to get one. Or borrow a maid’s outfit and serve drinks—that suits your status better.”
Hahaha! The door slammed, and Diego’s boisterous laughter faded into the distance.
