MMLP 44

chapter 44

If both parties agree, it’s possible to move up the date of a duel.

Since Malriuk had come first and directly challenged him, Rosinante accepted the duel.

Malriuk, who had been suspicious—thinking that Cayenne couldn’t possibly lose in a strategic game or that some trickery must have been involved—suggested settling the matter with sheer strength.

“If it’s arm wrestling, you won’t be able to cheat. I’ll break every finger of that arrogant youngest prince!”

Malriuk rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms.

‘Even adults would be impressed.’

For a twelve-year-old, his physique was extraordinary, and he carried the aura of a seasoned mercenary.

It suddenly made sense why frail Cayenne had allied with Malriuk.

You can’t cheat in a pure strength contest. Even the most skilled spies wouldn’t stand a chance against a massive brute like him.

I asked worriedly, “Are you sure, Ros? You don’t have to push yourself.”

“I said I wouldn’t make things hard for you.”

Rosinante gently touched my shoulder. It was a small gesture, but it reassured me deeply. Perhaps it was his characteristic calm smile that brought such ease.

“Watch from there.”

That single sentence made what had seemed like a childish arm-wrestling match feel like a battle in the Colosseum.

No. You can’t compare this to a fight among mere brawlers.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime match with hierarchy on the line.

“Bring it on.”

Thunk!

Malriuk slammed his arm onto the table with such force that the heavy furniture wobbled slightly.

“You said that if I win, I get the palace, right? Then I…”

His gaze darted toward me, standing just behind Rosinante.

“I’ll take the girl.”

Wait—he’s really twelve? Do we need to check his ID?

I was too stunned to respond, and Rosinante, expression hardening, glared at Malriuk.

“…Levieta is not an object. Watch your words, Malriuk.”

“I was just stating the world’s truth: a strong man takes the beauty.”

Perhaps a sophisticated phrase he had learned from Cayenne, his tone was particularly firm when saying “world’s truth.”

“Scared of getting hurt? Pathetic. If you kneel and beg, maybe I’ll deal with you using just one finger.”

“I’ll pass.”

Without hesitation, Rosinante sat across from Malriuk.

Rolling up his sleeves, his well-balanced, muscular arms were revealed.

Unlike Malriuk, whose bulk was all brute size, Rosinante’s form contained restrained, condensed power.

‘Of course—it’s his own body.’

Even with a perfect facial disguise, height and build can’t be mimicked.

“Showing off in front of a lady, huh? You’ll regret overestimating your pride.”

Hmm. Usually, guys who talk that much lose.

As soon as their arms met on the table, the referee raised his hand.

“…Start!”

The next moment, CRASH!—the wooden table splintered with a deafening sound.

‘What just happened…?’

The wind that blew belatedly tousled my hair.

The scene before my eyes was so shocking I couldn’t immediately comprehend it.

“AAAAAH!”

Malriuk’s arm was slammed into the ground with such force that the floor cracked. Blood sprayed from ruptured veins, his face twisted in horror and pain.

But the most terrifying sight was the grotesque angle at which his fingers were bent.

Rosinante looked at the referee emotionlessly, as if he had no idea who had done this to Malriuk’s hand.

The flustered referee hesitated, and Malriuk, writhing in pain, shouted loudly:

“I—I lost! I lost!”

“Uh! Yes! By Prince Malriuk’s declaration of surrender, according to the fair and just rules of the royal family, the winner of this duel is the 13th Prince…”

“This hand’s going to break! Hurry!”

“Prince Rosinante wins! The duel is over, please step back!”

Rosinante casually let go of Malriuk’s hand and, as if he had touched something dirty, pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his hands.

Unlike Malriuk, who seemed ready to pour water from every pore, not a drop of sweat appeared on Rosinante’s forehead.

It was an undeniable victory.

‘Good to establish a foundation for the male lead who will someday return as king… but isn’t he showing too much strength?’

If anyone noticed, the reward for reporting spies during the family’s independence would vanish.

I was watching Malriuk clutching his hand and groaning, when Rosinante spoke to him in a cold tone:

“Never be rude to Levieta again. If you ignore this warning, next time it won’t be your hand I break—it’ll be your neck.”

…This is serious.

It seems the spy boy is way too immersed in roleplay.

Whether method acting or a meticulously planned mission, the important thing was that he needed to avoid drawing too much attention.

Using too much magic to catch the emperor’s eye could land him straight on the battlefield, and showing off as a reincarnated host would earn the empress’s strong scrutiny.

On the other hand, just letting things happen would make him an easy target, so he had to handle matters carefully and smartly.

With two quick consecutive wins, he confidently secured the 11th place in the hierarchy.

Despite sabotage attempts, his debut was successful, making his name known to everyone.

At this point, was meeting the princesses a good opportunity or the start of another incident?

A tea party…

In my hands was a luxurious invitation edged in gold. It was a tea party invitation from the princesses.

A tea party—a casual gathering to enjoy tea and snacks.

But reading the golden letters, I felt that it wouldn’t be casual or enjoyable at all.

Not just because I was a reincarnated host.

‘Inviting both Eve Maria and me?’

And it was hosted by the 1st Princess, the closest to the Empress.

‘So they want to test me without Constance’s protection.’

It smelled fishy, but refusing would be the worst choice.

I carefully tucked the invitation into my pocket.

Under the afternoon sun, the beautiful garden spread out.

The princesses’ pavilion was luxurious, like a masterpiece painting.

Water trickled from the fountain, birds sang in the cages, and three princesses sat enjoying the scenery.

When I arrived, all eyes turned to me.

There were no maids around, so no one introduced me. I bowed politely to the princesses.

“It is an honor to meet the noble daughters of the empire. I am Levieta Grimroar, 13th Prince’s consort.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Levieta. Could you stand there until the 1st Princess arrives?”

Not ‘have a seat’?

Besides, I am Levieta, the 13th Prince’s consort, and Eve Maria is the 1st Prince’s consort.

Frozen by the unexpected words, the 1st Princess Laila smiled lightly, lifting her teacup:

“Oh, don’t misunderstand. Because of the struggle for the throne, unnecessary clashes sometimes occur between princes’ consorts. We just strictly follow hierarchy to prevent friction.”

As befits the 1st Princess, Laila exuded elegant grace.

With her light purple hair and eyes, she seemed like she would sip lavender tea, yet her cup contained cold milk.

The subtle glances of the other princesses and Laila’s gentle smile were intimidating enough.

“It’s for the sake of royal protocol. I hope you understand with a generous heart.”

“…Yes, of course.”

As the lowest-ranking consort, I had no choice but to comply.

Even though Rosinante had won two victories, the hierarchy among the consorts didn’t change, leaving Cayenne and Malriuk unaffected.

Moreover, today’s gathering invited only the 1st and 13th consorts.

Its true purpose was unknown, but it didn’t seem like it would be a pleasant occasion for me.

From afar, I saw Eve Maria approaching.

Crossing the garden in her lavish dress, she looked like a single blooming flower.

Compared to her:

My gray, faded dress lightly brushed the ground. The hem had no embellishments, and my bare neck looked empty. Standing side by side, I could easily be mistaken for Eve Maria’s maid.