Chapter 20
I was frozen in front of him, trapped by an indescribable emotion.
“How did you get here?”
But we weren’t alone. I had just momentarily forgotten the others when I saw Tristan.
When I turned, Ludwig and Anton were looking at me with different expressions.
Ludwig’s face was calm, as if nothing had happened. Anton, on the other hand, looked visibly flustered again.
‘So that’s why he looked so shocked earlier because of Tristan.’
I remembered the expression on the duke’s face when I asked about the youngest son.
Not only had they pretended not to know what was obvious, they had also stayed silent while he was being hit. A fire of anger rose in my heart.
“I don’t know from where you’ve been following.”
I felt even more furious toward Ludwig. His calm demeanor was infuriating. I wanted, in that moment, to slap him like Tristan had been slapped.
But the person in front of me was the heir of the arrogant House Assenbach, a family that dared behave arrogantly even in front of a prince. Acting recklessly would only make things spiral out of control.
“Does that really matter right now?”
I chose my words carefully and pointed behind me at Tristan, who was crouched low.
“I just followed because I thought I recognized him. I was surprised to see it was actually a person and stepped in.”
Even though Tristan could hear me, he didn’t react at all. What if he’d damaged his eardrum? I fought the urge to take him to a doctor immediately.
“Although disciplining a younger sibling is a brother’s role, isn’t this just simple violence? Doing such a thing on His Majesty the Emperor’s birthday seems inappropriate.”
Ludwig, who had been maintaining his composure, couldn’t help but show a slight change in expression when the emperor was mentioned. His jaw tensed, and a faintly annoyed voice escaped.
“I don’t know what you heard or where, but that is not my brother.”
That was complete nonsense.
Tristan was clearly a member of the Assenbach family. His dark bluish-black hair and golden eyes, just like Ludwig and Anton’s, proved it.
Could he be a cousin or more distant relative instead of a brother? The original story didn’t say that. I stepped back slightly, still thinking.
“If he isn’t your brother, does that mean it’s okay to hit a younger child?”
“I was merely punishing a servant. How I manage my subordinates is none of the princess’s concern.”
Ludwig spoke firmly. He didn’t seem willing to continue this conversation.
“A servant?”
But I couldn’t accept that. I felt like I had been struck in the head and glanced at Tristan.
Now that I looked closer, Tristan’s clothes were made of fine fabric but simple, with no decorations. They resembled the clothes worn by servants at Opal Palace.
Tristan isn’t the duke’s youngest son but a servant?
I was speechless, caught in confusion. Meanwhile, Ludwig stepped closer to me and leaned toward me.
“Really now.”
He leaned his upper body over me, casting a shadow. The golden eyes glinting in the darkness, similar to Tristan’s, were nauseatingly unpleasant.
“Who told you about this child’s existence?”
He scrutinized my face with eyes full of suspicion and contempt, adding one last word.
“Princess.”
It was clear he intended to insult me.
The Duke of Assenbach had acted stiffly even in front of Rudolf. To his heir, the 17th princess must have seemed less important than any minor noblewoman.
But I had endured too many humiliations to be intimidated by such an insult.
“I don’t think this is a matter you should involve yourself in, Your Highness.”
I spoke to him in a firm voice.
“Didn’t I clearly say I followed him because I thought I recognized someone? And anyone would step in seeing a child being hit, yet you react like this. It makes me even more curious about who this child really is.”
This time, I think I really got under Ludwig’s skin. His well-sculpted face twisted with anger that he couldn’t suppress.
“Speak properly, or…!”
“Young Duke!”
Anton shouted.
Both Ludwig and I turned to look at Anton simultaneously. I nearly screamed when I saw him.
A black crow sat on Anton’s shoulder. Just having a human-sized crow in front of me was terrifying enough, but its eyes glowed yellow like a messenger from hell.
“The duke calls for you,” Anton said in a trembling voice.
What the hell was going on? I stared dumbly between the crow and Anton. Was that crow supposed to be Duke Assenbach?
“Very well, Princess. Let’s do it this way.”
Ludwig looked at the crow, sighed tiredly, and spoke. Tristan’s gloomy features briefly flashed over his face.
‘He looks disgustingly similar.’
I frowned at that thought.
“If you promise to forget what you saw here, I will also forget meeting you, Princess.”
I expected nonsense again, but surprisingly, it was a reasonable suggestion.
It wasn’t good for me to be seen arguing with the young duke. But Ludwig didn’t want this situation to be discovered either.
Whether it was Tristan himself, the act of hitting him, or the fact I saw it, one thing was clear:
The person he didn’t want to be discovered by was his father, Duke Assenbach.
“Fair enough.”
I said and nodded.
Ludwig relaxed slightly, bowed, and walked toward the center of the garden where the party was held. Anton followed, giving a half-hearted greeting.
Behind me, Tristan slowly rose from his crouched position.
“Ah…!”
I had forgotten him for a moment. I tried to reach for Tristan, but he passed by silently, as if I weren’t there.
The three of them disappeared, leaving me alone in a dark corner of the garden.
“Ah…”
I sank to the ground. After sitting there in a daze for a while, I touched the ground and tried using Stella.
Nothing happened.
Tristan Assenbach was born as the youngest son of House Assenbach.
His father was strict in work but warm at home. His mother was cheerful, filling the household with laughter.
Tristan’s two older brothers were also handsome and upright like their parents, and they adored their youngest brother.
The power struggles common in noble families were a world apart for House Assenbach. The duke had planned to pass the family legacy to the eldest, and the younger brothers had no complaints. The three brothers grew up loving and respecting each other.
Nothing was lacking in Tristan’s life.
But perhaps someone envied that happiness.
House Assenbach was falsely accused, ending centuries of history in disgrace.
Treason.
It was a ridiculous conspiracy. The duke protested his innocence with passion. Anyone who knew House Assenbach would have believed him.
But the plot had been planned long ago. By the time the trap had ensnared the Black Lion of the northeast, there was no escape.
The conspiracy was meticulous and relentless. Evidence piled endlessly. The duchess died under torture, and the duke gave up when he learned the truth.
House Assenbach was ultimately annihilated.
Like all traitors, everyone in the family perished—the eldest young duke, the family, relatives, even the household servants.
But the emperor spared only the youngest, Tristan.
It was not mercy. It was humiliation. Instead of killing Tristan, he was enslaved.
Imperial law did not recognize slavery. Making a person a slave and selling them was illegal. But there was an exception—for serious criminals branded by the royal family.
A marked criminal lost all rights and was treated as property, forced to obey their owner for life. The tasks were often unspeakably cruel.
Branding the youngest of the ducal family as a slave was a way to completely destroy House Assenbach.
Tristan, born noble, tried to die on his own but failed. Several suicide attempts failed, and he was eventually bound, gagged, and presented at the New Year’s slave auction.
And that was when Imelda found him.
“This is where the story begins…”
I muttered, bewildered.
It was the morning after the birthday party. I had tossed and turned late into the night and barely slept, yet the fatigue lingered.
But my mind was too restless to rest, so I sat at my desk and began writing Tristan’s past from the original story on paper.
I reread what I had written.
I didn’t remember the exact sentences. Some details might be wrong. But the family and household of Tristan were accurate.
Because that was the core of the male lead.
A noble fallen from grace, second only to royalty in the empire. And the heroine who reached out to save him—though she was also the daughter of the family that destroyed him.
Their tragic, tension-filled romance was the heart of the story.
Political intrigue aside, <The 13th Princess> was fundamentally a romance. The story of the male and female leads and their love blooming through adversity was what mattered most.
But the male lead, Tristan, wasn’t the duke’s son—he was a servant.
“A servant…”
I frowned, deep in thought.
Tristan was definitely a blood descendant of House Assenbach. His hair and eyes proved it, and he resembled Ludwig in facial features and demeanor.
“Too small an age gap for him to be a hidden child of Ludwig…”
Muttering that, I suddenly realized a shocking truth.
A father who denied his own son, and a secret son living like a servant, beaten by his older brothers.
There was only one explanation.
“Tristan was illegitimate.”
That explained everything.
Illegitimate children were poorly regarded in the Esperusa Empire. Born to unmarried parents, they were considered evidence of immorality and a threat to the family’s honor.
Nobles treated illegitimate children in one of two ways:
-
Claim them as legitimate and include them in the family. For a female noble, easy; for a male, complicated but possible with agreement.
-
Deny their existence. Giving them a few coins and sending them away was mild; often both the child and parent were killed to protect the family’s honor.
The duke likely chose the second option. But instead of killing or expelling Tristan, he made him a servant—a strange choice.
The strangest thing was this:
“There was no such thing in the original story…”
What exactly had I read before?
