Chapter 6
“It’s Not All Bad That My Body Ended Up Like This”
“Oh my goodness—Rubellino is practically Sir Hayworth herself! To take it away… Do they even understand how precious a sword is to a knight?”
Charlotte burst out in indignation, completely unaware of the puzzled look Annette was giving her. Then, as if belatedly realizing how worked up she’d become, Charlotte flushed and made an embarrassed confession.
“I—I’m sorry. I got too excited, didn’t I? The truth is… I’m a very devoted admirer of Sir Hayworth.”
“…An admirer… Pardon?”
Had she misheard?
Annette’s fingers twitched as she instinctively questioned her own ears.
But seeing the Empress speak earnestly about how much she’d wanted to meet her, it seemed she really had heard correctly.
‘An admirer…’
Annette knew that among the knights who sometimes sought her out—claiming they wanted to test their skills against hers—there were a few who idolized famous warriors with fervent admiration.
But she had never imagined that she herself would have admirers.
Much less that one of them would be the Empress of the Alkan Empire.
Stunned, Annette stood there in a daze.
‘Now that I think about it, she’s been calling me “Sir Hayworth” so respectfully from the very beginning…’
Realizing this made her fingertips and toes tingle for no reason at all.
At that moment, Charlotte tilted her head and asked curiously,
“By the way, Sir—how did you fight the monsters without a sword?”
In that instant, Annette’s red eyes sharpened.
Before recalling the battle with the monsters, something far more important came to mind—something she needed to report first.
With a grave expression, she turned to Lucius.
“Before I explain that, there is something I must tell you. Your Majesty, I apologize, but it seems there is someone within the Kingdom of Hayworth who is colluding with the Bayendor Empire.”
Seeing Annette appear covered in monster blood, the Alkan imperial family had naturally assumed that the Hayworth delegation had been attacked by monsters, and that Annette alone had barely survived and made it to the Empire.
Strictly speaking, that wasn’t wrong—but it wasn’t the whole truth either.
Annette clearly remembered what had first forced the carriage to stop.
An arrow.
A single shot that had unmistakably been aimed at her.
Perhaps it was to leave no evidence—or perhaps they had somehow anticipated the monster attack—but no further arrows were fired after that.
“…It was undoubtedly a red arrow from the Bayendor Empire.”
Since she hadn’t been carrying a proper weapon at the time, Annette had no choice but to fight the monsters using that arrow.
Even then, after swinging it only a few times, it shattered completely. She felt a heavy sense of responsibility for losing such an important piece of evidence.
And more than that—
“The Alkan Empire didn’t know that I and the Hayworth delegation were on our way. That means the information must have leaked from within the Kingdom of Hayworth.”
From the king who hurriedly sent her off as if chasing her away, with a pitiful excuse for a delegation, to the possibility of collaborators or spies—it was all, undeniably, Hayworth’s fault.
Just as she had once lifted her head, determined to act with dignity as a princess, Annette now lowered her gaze, keenly aware of her responsibility as one.
‘They’ll probably demand accountability from Hayworth. They might even suggest nullifying the alliance…’
If that happened, she would have to find some way to change their minds—
“So you’re saying they abandoned the princess and ran?”
“You mean you really fought monsters with just a single arrow? And after that… with your bare hands?”
…What?
The Emperor and Empress’s reactions were nothing like Annette had expected.
Momentarily taken aback, she answered carefully.
“The guards assigned to escort me did not possess the strength to face monsters. And since we were passing near a monster swamp, even if they had tried to flee… there’s no guarantee they would have survived.”
“Even so, abandoning their mission cannot be overlooked. We will lodge a formal protest with the Kingdom of Hayworth. As for Bayendor’s attack, we lack concrete evidence, so we can’t act immediately—but we will investigate thoroughly, so please don’t worry. The fact that monsters appeared at such a convenient moment is… suspicious.”
Lucius trailed off, clearly deep in thought. After confirming the route the Hayworth delegation had taken, he smoothly changed the subject.
“Ah, and as you suggested, since information could leak again, we’ll inform Hayworth only that the princess was injured but arrived safely in the Empire.”
“What? Ah—yes. Um… then what about the alliance…?”
After all this—the kingdom’s incompetence laid bare—they were just letting it slide?
Only protesting about the guards who ran away and left her behind?
Unsure what to say, Annette opened her mouth, then pressed her lips tightly together.
Lucius smiled and spoke gently.
“Princess. Though the betrothal pledge has not yet been notarized by the temple, since it has already been signed, you are practically a member of the Alkan imperial family. Please, set your worries aside.”
“……”
Born a princess yet never truly acknowledged as royalty, Annette felt something strange stir within her as she recalled Lucius calling her family without hesitation—and Charlotte saying they would soon be one family and should grow close.
Against her will, hope began to creep in.
‘Perhaps Grand Duke Hargent wasn’t making excuses… Maybe he really did go on a subjugation mission…’
“Leave the matters of Bayendor and Hayworth to His Majesty, and focus on recovering, Sir. All right?”
“Pardon? Ah… yes.”
Lost in thought, Annette snapped back to her senses at Charlotte’s words.
Come to think of it, regardless of the cause, she still needed to restore her body to its original state. She nodded, feeling uncertain.
Then Charlotte smiled brightly.
“But it’s not all bad that your body ended up like this.”
“…What?”
“When you collapsed and were brought in, the palace physicians examined you. They said you have only minor bruises all over—no serious injuries at all! Your vitality has weakened, but with proper medicine and rest, you’ll be just fine.”
“…Is that so?”
Seeing Annette blink blankly, not quite grasping the meaning, Charlotte clapped her hands in mild frustration.
“That means your hand has healed too! You can hold a sword again!”
‘Hold a sword again…?’
Annette froze.
She had allowed herself to hope—just a little—that her wrist might one day fully heal.
But she’d thought it was nothing more than wishful thinking.
“Is… is that really true?”
When she asked again in disbelief, Charlotte nodded enthusiastically.
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
Annette nodded along.
She’d already been shocked that, despite severe injuries, she felt only pain and no lasting damage—but to think even her hand had recovered…
Staring blankly at her left hand—now completely free of even the deep scars that had once marked it—Annette realized that perhaps becoming younger wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
The journey to the Alkan Empire had been exhausting, but ever since she woke up, it felt like nothing but good things had been happening.
At the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder what the Hayworth royal family would say once they heard the news.
‘Well… it doesn’t concern me anymore.’
As Lucius had said, she had already signed the betrothal pledge.
Once the temple notarization was complete, she would officially become a member of the Alkan imperial family—and all of that would likely happen faster than any news reaching Hayworth.
‘Judging by how they forced me into retirement the moment I was injured, they’d probably been looking for an excuse to discard me all along.’
So no one would welcome her back, even if she recovered.
If anything, they might raise a fuss again, claiming that the “monster’s seed” had used some strange sorcery.
A bitter taste filled her mouth. Annette shook her head lightly to dispel the unpleasant thoughts—then suddenly lifted her gaze.
Only then did she realize something strange.
Up until now, the Emperor and Empress of Alkan had never once treated her as an ominous or cursed being.
And at that moment, she witnessed something even stranger.
Lucius and Charlotte—who had been smiling broadly—both flinched and hurriedly schooled their expressions.
It was only for a split second, but unmistakably, they had looked as though they didn’t know what to do with something unbearably cute right in front of them.
Like the look Queen Esther wore when gazing at her youngest son, Raon.
Or the expression Bridget made when playing with the cat she doted on.
‘…They weren’t looking at me, were they?’
Until now, everyone Annette had known either openly despised her, followed her reluctantly while hiding their displeasure, or—on rare occasions—burned with competitiveness and challenged her to duels.
Even Franz always looked at her as if weighed down by guilt.
She had never once imagined that someone might look at her with genuine affection.
Panicking, she quickly turned her head to see if someone else was there—
But of course, there was no one behind her.
The Empress had dismissed all attendants as soon as the banquet setup was complete.
‘Then… were they really looking at me?’
That couldn’t be.
Half shocked, half doubtful, Annette turned back again—and once more saw the two of them hurriedly smoothing their softened smiles.
Confused, Annette concluded she must be mistaken.
But that was the real mistake.
Lucius and Charlotte were raising a young son around Annette’s apparent age—about seven or eight.
Unlike their rambunctious child, Annette’s quiet face, earnestly deep in thought, struck them as unbearably adorable.
And Lucius in particular—who had practically raised his twelve-years-younger brother in his arms—found young girls both unfamiliar and fascinating.
“…About seven years old, maybe?” he murmured.
“No. Probably around ten,” Annette replied, somehow catching his muttered words and shaking her head.
From the first time she’d seen herself in the mirror, and while bathing—judging by her height and limb length—she had roughly estimated her current age.
Charlotte immediately objected.
“That can’t be right. You look about the same height as Mikhail. And Mikhail is actually a bit small for his age.”
“Mikhail…?”
That was the Crown Prince of the Alkan Empire.
The one who had just turned eight.
Annette’s expression stiffened with a strangely wounded sense of pride.
