TFPHS 01

Chapter – 01

“The sole heir of the Duchy of Bristol, Her Highness Princess April, enters.”

A banquet hall of overwhelming scale, unlike anything I had ever seen in my life. Chandelier lights so bright they made me want to squint. A carpet on the floor that looked far too expensive for someone like me to even step on.

More terrifying than all of that, however, were the magic-control barriers stretching out from every direction, woven together like a dense spiderweb.

Even so, I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin with practiced dignity, and walked forward. Beneath my luxurious dress, my heart fluttered anxiously, but I pretended not to notice and repeated to myself:

I’m a princess. The only heir of a ridiculously wealthy island nation. I don’t need magic or anything like that.

In reality, the only time I had ever played a princess was once, in an orphanage year-end play. But what could I do?

I, April Basewater, had to fulfill today’s duty. Just like always, this was how I survived.

And so, standing before the task I had finally been forced to face, I planted my feet firmly on the ground. I raised my downcast eyes and glanced up at the greatest challenge of my life.

Crown Prince Kalicion Penaforte Lefebvre Justinia.
The small star of the Empire, destined to succeed the ailing Emperor. Commonly known as the Morning Star of Justinia.

Wow. Every painter who had ever drawn the Crown Prince’s portrait should seriously reflect on their work.

Pale skin shaped by long years spent indoors, violet eyes glittering atop a sharply defined nose bridge, and the silver hair unique to the Justinian imperial family.

All who could speak or write in the Empire had praised the beauty captured in his portraits, but the Crown Prince in person shone like the Morning Star itself.

They said he had inherited the Emperor’s chronic illness and narrowly escaped death several times as a child, but honestly, it would be a terrible waste for a face like that to die young.

And after coming of age, he had apparently grown so healthy that he practiced empire-wide philanthropy—never stopping women who came to him, never holding onto women who left.

Seeing him in person, I could understand why that might benefit the public good of the Empire…

Still, it seemed that Archduke Artsen—the Emperor’s younger brother and right-hand man—found his nephew’s behavior deeply embarrassing.

Thus, the Archduke declared that he would host a month-long charity banquet to find a bride for the Crown Prince.

And thanks to that, I was standing here now.

Thank you, Your Highness. Could you spare just one night for me, out of all those many evenings?

There is something I absolutely must do by your side.

Suppressing my racing heart, I gently gathered my skirt with both hands and bowed my head demurely.

“I am April, Princess of Bristol.”

I had been instructed to keep my words minimal under the excuse of being a foreigner, but Kalicion responded to my awkward greeting with a warm smile and extended his hand.

“I am Kalicion. Welcome to Justinia.”

Clementine had fussed endlessly, saying something about the prince’s preferences while applying makeup to give my face a rosy glow—but it had all been pointless.

Was there even a single woman in this world who wouldn’t blush when that man smiled?

And on top of that, I was a lifelong single who’d never even dated once, thanks to a harsh life!

When I carefully offered my gloved left hand, the man who was undoubtedly the most handsome in the Empire graciously pressed a kiss to the back of it.

Get a grip, April.

You didn’t come here as a lovestruck girl. You came here to solve a problem.

Clinging desperately to my remaining sanity, I smiled calmly.

“You may call me April.”

***

To explain how I ended up throwing myself into this absurd play, I should first reintroduce who I, April, really am.

I am a mage—Mage A—belonging to a small fixer guild in the middle of nowhere.

I’m known far more often by my alias, “A,” than by my real name, April—a ridiculously powerful mage.

Ah! The fact that I share a name with the Princess of Bristol is truly a strange coincidence.

In the Empire it’s unheard of, but apparently “April” is a common name in Bristol? There’s even a flower with the same name, or so I hear.

Anyway, the most remarkable thing about my personal circumstances is that almost no one knows I’m a mage—only two people, my closest friends and fellow guild members.

In short, I was someone wealthy whose true identity was known by no one. Well, wealthy by commoner standards, at least.

The requests that came into a rural fixer guild were never anything grand.

Catching adulterous husbands and delivering divine punishment, draining the secret funds of deadbeat nobles who refused to pay child support, catching serial thieves from general stores, hunting down tomcats who’d impregnated other people’s precious pets, and so on.

But after faithfully carrying out such trivial jobs for five years, we each bought two houses, an orchard, carriages and horses—pretty much anything we wanted.

When I thought about the miserable orphanage we’d lived in together until we were eighteen, I didn’t even envy the Emperor’s life anymore.

At least, that was true until two weeks ago, when my closest friend Millicent—who’d grown up in the same orphanage and ran the guild with me—disappeared.

When Millicent first vanished, we grew complacent, drunk on our comfortable lives, and fell into optimism.

“Isn’t she just mad because you keep skipping work? I mean, even Millie deserves to slack off for a day or two.”

Raphael, our guild master and my other friend, said that mockingly. Feeling guilty, I chose to wait quietly instead of going out to look for Millicent.

But after three days, I couldn’t stand the anxiety anymore and searched Millicent’s room behind Raphael’s back.

Her desk was covered in maps, which wasn’t strange considering our line of work.

Still, a sense of unease crept over me, and I blurted out a forced theory.

“Maybe she finally went to beat Philius flat like she always said she would. Or… did she go after Doodler instead?”

In the end, Raphael and I abandoned our hollow optimism and began searching for Millicent in our own ways.

Yet even after a week, Millicent didn’t return.

Thankfully, we had friendship necklaces—high-grade magical tools that allowed us to confirm each other’s survival from afar.

When Raphael had spent nearly all of the guild’s early profits to buy them, I’d thought it was insane wastefulness…

But without that necklace, I would’ve already wasted away from worry.

Hanging from the necklace was a magical pendant activated by mixing a drop of blood from the three of us. As long as it continued to glow, it meant all three of us were alive and well.

Even so, the fact that Millicent hadn’t returned after a week without any explanation was as impossible as the sun rising in the west.

She wasn’t the type to abandon the guild and leave it to two hopeless idiots like us.

The only reason the two of us—who often forgot to eat—had managed to live like proper humans was entirely thanks to Millicent’s caring devotion.

Though the neighborhood saw her as an eccentric woman, to us she was practically our mother.

Ten days into our lives falling apart as we searched for Millicent—who had vanished as if swallowed by the earth—it finally arrived.

A large box.

Inside was a small leather pouch and a single request document.

While Raphael, the guild master, unfolded the request to read it, I absentmindedly opened the pouch—and screamed in horror.

“Oh my god… Millie!”

Inside was a thinly braided lock of black hair, tied with a beaded hair ribbon.

The ribbon was a gift I had specially commissioned for her when she came of age. If you looked closely, Millicent’s initials were engraved on the beads.

The hair was unmistakably hers.

As I trembled, Raphael spread the request document before me, his face deathly pale.

“Look at this, April. It says if we want Millicent back, we have to accept the request.”

My vision swam with rage, but if I wanted to save Millicent, I had no choice but to read the damn thing.

The request was essentially only half complete. It began like this:

Request Contract

1. The subject shall attend the Imperial Charity Banquet, beginning on ○ month ○ day, for one month under the identity of Princess of the Duchy of Bristol.

(Identity fabrication and financial support will be provided by the client through an intermediary.)