Chapter 9
“What? You were trying to go to the Garden of the Gods at this hour? Because you were worried about the fruit inside—your younger sibling? My goodness, how kind-hearted our princess is! But it’s far too late right now. Thankfully, thanks to Lady Demetea and His Majesty’s grace, the Rosarium is safe and unharmed. So don’t worry—go to sleep, okay?”
In the end, I was carefully carried back to my room and forced to listen to a lullaby.
I planned to pretend to sleep again until Father left… but I ended up actually falling asleep.
Yesterday had been so chaotic that I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was from attending the banquet.
Well, it made sense. This was a child’s body—its stamina was nothing like when I’d been an adult.
Still… something doesn’t sit right.
In the previous timeline, I’d never suddenly tried to go to the Garden of the Gods at this point, nor had I run into Karus like that.
So why was I sensing miasma from Karus now?
Did the villains plant it? But it should still be far too early for them to directly reach Karus and the Fourth Prince. Or… did Karus generate it himself?
In 〈Princess Asphodel〉, the evil forces that sought to plunge Rosantina—the heroine’s homeland—into ruin drew their power from miasma condensed from negative human emotions.
Those vile beings didn’t act openly at first. Like a drizzling rain that slowly soaked one’s clothes, they worked patiently beneath the surface over a long period of time, gradually corroding Rosantina.
Which meant that even now, at this point in time, they were surely moving quietly underground.
Either way, for Karus to already have that much miasma… Was there some incident around this time that Asphodel never knew about?
I sank deeper into thought.
〈Princess Asphodel〉 was told almost entirely from Asphodel’s point of view.
So naturally, anything the heroine didn’t know, the readers didn’t know either.
Especially in the early and mid portions of the story, Asphodel’s childhood focused mostly on warm, gentle daily life—bonding with her family.
Even when incidents or conflicts occurred, they were minor. The villain faction was barely mentioned at all.
At most, the Second Prince might pick a fight, or nobles under the fathers’ factions would scheme against one another.
There was hardly anything about the fate of the world itself.
“Your Highness, if you’re almost done eating, would you like to see this?”
Just as I was lost in thought, Margaret dramatically lifted the lid off the last remaining covered plate on the table.
“Ta-da! Normally breakfast desserts are lighter, but today is a special occasion.”
Inside was the chef’s special milk pudding—so absurdly sweet-looking that I could tell at a glance it was insane.
“Uwaaah…”
A genuine sigh slipped out of me.
Don’t misunderstand—I didn’t misuse the word.
Let me repeat myself. That was a sigh, not an exclamation.
“You must’ve been disappointed that the celebration ended so early yesterday. And yet you didn’t complain even once—our princess is so mature.”
I stared at the soft, jiggly pudding on the plate with unfocused eyes.
It’s been a while.
In the novel, young Asphodel loved this so much that she’d beg for it several times a day.
It was an outrageous sugar bomb of milk pudding, stuffed with fruits and jellies simmered in sugar and honey, then coated in caramel syrup—so sweet it made your spine tingle after a single bite.
That was why eating it in the morning, as Margaret said, only happened on very special days.
But unlike the real Asphodel, I didn’t actually like sweets that much.
Still, in my first life I’d eaten it to imitate Asphodel. In my second life, I never refused because I didn’t want to disappoint Margaret, whom I’d grown attached to without realizing it.
“Now then, Your Highness, enjoy your—oh my! How rude of you little ones!”
“Kkii! Kkik!”
Right on cue, two shadows leapt onto the table, snapping me out of my nostalgia.
One was white, and the other was black-and-white—two ferrets.
You little punks. Long time no see.
Their names were Pio and Kino.
According to the novel, their story began when Father, Roxan, brought back baby animals he’d found dying in the rain while inspecting the monster forest in the northwest.
The ferrets grew plump and lively on Roxan’s affection and eventually settled in the imperial palace as permanent freeloaders.
But in truth, they weren’t ordinary animals.
They were spirits using animal bodies as vessels.
The original ferrets Roxan had lovingly cared for died not long after entering the palace.
At that point, spirits that had been lingering around Asphodel entered the empty bodies and became their new masters.
Spirits are naturally drawn to those blessed by the gods—people who possess divine power.
Even before awakening, those with the potential to manifest divine power give off a distinctive scent.
That was why these two had attached themselves to Asphodel so early.
“Kkkiiing!”
“You two! I already fed you earlier—don’t you dare covet Her Highness’s food! Get down at once!”
Margaret tried to pull the ferrets off the table.
But they clung on with their tiny paws so tightly that only their mochi-soft, flexible bodies stretched long instead.
They kept whining insistently, begging for my pudding.
I already knew what they were from the novel, and I’d spent a long time with them in previous timelines, so I recognized them—but since my divine power hadn’t awakened yet, we couldn’t communicate.
“Kkiyu! Kkik!”
They flailed around desperately, trying to express themselves with gestures.
Watching them struggle like that felt oddly pitiful.
“Tsk. Pio, Kino. I’ll give you one bite each, so listen to Margaret and behave.”
Honestly, in the past I’d kept my distance because they were the real Asphodel’s familiars.
Sometimes, when they didn’t listen, I’d even scolded them—just a little. Really, just a little.
But maybe because we’d faced death together…
I felt like treating them better now.
It’s not because I don’t want to eat sweets in the morning or anything, okay?
“Here. Say ‘ah.’”
I even scooped the milk pudding myself with a teaspoon and fed them.
“My goodness! Your Highness! This is the snack you loved so much you once said your birthday wish was to eat a hundred plates of milk pudding! How can you be so generous and loving?”
Margaret looked deeply moved by my magnanimity.
Hmph. It’s not that big a deal.
“Kkii…?”
“Kki…!”
…Why are they looking at me like that?
The two ferrets exchanged frantic glances, utterly flustered by my words.
They were squeaking noisily, but of course I couldn’t understand a thing.
The white ferret alternated between staring at my face and the pudding on the spoon, then slowly backed away.
The black-and-white one hesitantly approached me, eyes trembling, and even carefully poked my hand with its pale paw.
From their eyes, I could tell they were harboring some very rude thoughts about me.
“What, I’m perfectly sane, you know?”
“…Kkiyu!”
“Hey, it’s not like I did something weird to the pudding.”
“Kkiiiee!”
What are you so shocked about?
You’re saying everything with your eyes!
Suddenly, I felt wronged.
Anyone would think I bully them every day.
Where would you find a kinder master than me?
No… more importantly, their reaction feels strange.
Didn’t Asphodel treat these two well before I possessed her, up until age four?
Then why are they shocked just because I’m sharing food?
I don’t remember this happening in previous timelines.
An uneasy feeling crept in as I stared blankly at the ferrets.
But they kept looking at me like I was insane, and my irritation only grew.
“Fine, whatever. Hmph. If you don’t want it, forget it. I’ll just eat it all myself.”
“Kkiya! Kkii…!”
In a huff, I shoved the milk pudding into my mouth.
The ferrets scrambled over belatedly, clinging to my arms and wailing loudly.
Tch. As if that’ll change my mind. My mood’s already ruined.
“Margaret, I’m done eating—let’s go play in the garden!”
Leaving the ferrets behind as they cried “kkiyu, kkiyu” and licked the empty plate, I stood up.
“But Lord Roxan hasn’t returned yet.”
“Today, I’m going out without Dad.”
Margaret followed after me as I briskly left the dining room, making an understanding sound.
“I see! Ever since turning five yesterday, our lovely princess really seems to have grown up overnight. Then today, shall it be just Lady Margaret and the princess going outside the palace?”
It was a misunderstanding, of course—but since things were going my way, I didn’t care.
“Let’s go, Margaret!”
Alright.
Time to go hunting.
The Rogue Princess’s Anything-Goes Life Plan
