A Fortune-telling Princess

Juid and his companions blanched under Ludville’s gaze.

They were nobles, after all; they knew him well. The man who, after the Duke of Sorpel, became the youngest swordmaster.

And that man was looking at them now with eyes like ice.

“Was it because of them?”

Ludville’s eyes came back to Camilla. Staring into those blue eyes, Camilla let her mouth fall open for a moment.

She had no idea why yesterday was coming up here, but for now—

“Yes.”

She nodded.

At her answer, Ludville’s cold gaze swung to Juid’s group.

Watching Ludville approach them at an unhurried pace had never felt more reassuring.

Seeing them retreat quickly, just as she had a moment ago, Camilla couldn’t help the satisfied look on her face.

‘What exactly were you planning?’

If Ludville hadn’t shown up? No—if she hadn’t stopped Juid first?

What would have happened to the woman he’d been dragging away?

Camilla exhaled a short sigh and only then looked toward where the woman was.

“Thank you.”

The woman was all but crawling on the ground. She must have been trying to reach Camilla somehow and ask for help.

“Are you hurt anywhere? I’m truly sorry. Because of me......”

Camilla, who had started toward her, stopped dead. Now that she saw the woman’s face clearly, she couldn’t say a word.

What sort of sudden encounter was this supposed to be?

“Thank you so much for helping me. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

The woman kept repeating thanks and anxious questions, and Camilla couldn’t take her eyes off her.

Hair like fine-spun gold, eyes the color of wine. A plain outfit that couldn’t hide how pretty she was.

“My name is Laila.”

A name she knew all too well.

Laila Hestem. The real heroine of this district.

The woman who drew not only Ravi’s attention but the interest of countless men at once.

And there she was, beaming kindly right in front of Camilla.

Side story. Another tale

“Ludville, say hello.”

He was twelve that year. Seven years since his mother had died, a new family arrived.

“So you’re Ludville.”

The new mother had a very pleasant look. Father, they said, had met her by chance while searching for the Guardian.

Struck by a sudden high fever, he had collapsed, and she had nursed him with such devoted care that it led to marriage.

“What are you doing? You two should greet him as well.”

Two children stood behind the new mother.

A boy who looked a year or two younger than Ludville stepped forward first and offered a proper greeting.

“I’m Ravi. Please take care of me, brother.”

“Mm.”

Ludville answered briefly with a nod. Naturally, his eyes went to the other child.

A very young-looking girl stood half-hidden behind the new mother, peeking at him and fidgeting.

“Camilla, what are you doing?”

The new mother’s voice, warm a moment ago, turned razor-sharp. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Startled, the girl shuffled forward at last.

“Ca...milla.”

She said her name in the tiniest voice and ducked her head.

A short sigh slipped from the new mother’s lips at the sight.

“Forgive her. Camilla is still very young......”

The new mother was strange. If she knew her daughter was young, why act like that? Was that what a mother was?

Ludville couldn’t understand the way she kept scolding the little girl with her eyes. That would only make a child shrink more.

“I...I’m sorry......”

As he’d expected, the girl hunched even smaller, at a total loss.

Another long sigh came from the new mother’s mouth as she looked at the girl.

Flinch.

The girl lifted her head just a little, met Ludville’s eyes, and visibly jolted—then squeezed her eyes shut.

Seeing that, he gave her no more of his gaze.

****

The new mother died.

A year can be long or short, depending on how you count it.

Maybe because he’d never grown attached, he didn’t feel particularly sad about her death.

The fact that someone had died, though—that alone cast his mood down.

‘Am I the strange one?’

He didn’t know. It seemed he’d been numb to things around him since he was small.

Sadness, joy... he never knew exactly where one was supposed to feel them.

Father, however, mourned the new mother deeply. He stayed in his study for a long time and drank.

And after a week, emerging from his study, Father accepted the new mother’s children as his own once again.

He shut the mouths of the retainers—who had been stirring opinion to send the two children out of the house—in a single stroke.

“Eat well, all of you.”

The first meal after the new mother’s passing.

“Yes......”

A year had gone by, yet Camilla still watched Father and Ludville for any sign. At his glance—

“......!”

—she flinched, just like now.

So he did his best not to look at her.

Clink.

Of course, there were times like now when his eyes slid over of their own accord.

A sidelong look showed Camilla pushing something off to the side of her salad plate.

‘Apple?’

Tiny apple cubes mixed into the salad.

Camilla nudged the pieces aside and carefully ate around them—glancing at Father now and then.

“......”

“......”

Then her eyes met his.

As always, she jolted, as if caught doing something terribly wrong.

Pop.

She hurriedly speared one of the apple pieces she’d pushed aside, popped it into her mouth, and swallowed it with water without even chewing properly.

‘So # Nоvеlight # she hates apples.’

He saw it a few more times after that. Whenever a dessert with apples as the main ingredient came out, she picked at it and could barely eat.

‘If you hate it, say so.’

Why didn’t she speak?

He couldn’t quite understand.

If she didn’t like apples, she could ask for a different dessert. Why say nothing? Why force herself to eat?

He was curious, but he didn’t go ask. No—he couldn’t.

Seeing how the child’s whole body went rigid whenever he came near, there was only one thing he could do.

Indifference.

****

“Why did you do that.”

“......”

“Camilla!”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Hah.”

A long sigh slipped from Father. Camilla had, out of nowhere, damaged the rose garden.

The garden could be put right again, but no one could tell why she’d done it. Even when Father asked, Camilla kept her mouth shut.

“Withdraw.”

“Yes......”

Head bowed, Camilla left the study quickly at Father’s order.

Ludville quietly followed her out.

‘Shouldn’t that be treated?’

He could see Camilla’s hand, scratched by rose thorns.

‘Would she hate it?’

He hesitated.

If he went to treat her, she’d feel uneasy again, wouldn’t she? Maybe it was better to pretend he hadn’t noticed.

“Sigh......”

Suddenly, a long breath left Camilla.

“What am I even......”

Not knowing he had followed, she muttered under her breath.

“That woman... over there she’s so fearless......”

That woman?

Who did she mean? And where was “there”?

He watched her in silence for a moment, then finally stepped closer. The cut on her hand bothered him.

“......!”

Only then did she notice him; Camilla started and opened her eyes wide.

“Your hand......”

When he glanced at it, she whipped her hand behind her back.

“I—I’m sorry.”

Sorry for what?

He tilted his head at the out-of-nowhere apology—and she bolted, fleeing the spot.

That was the last time. The next day, as scheduled, he had to leave the ducal house to suppress the rebels.

****

The day after he returned home—though he’d been at the party until late—he woke early. He left the quiet building and went for a walk for the first time in a while.

And then... he saw Camilla.

Without meaning to, he followed quietly behind her toward the mist-flowers. If he spoke, she would surely run again.

It wasn’t boring, watching her pick flowers, her expression changing from moment to moment with whatever thoughts she was having.

“......!”

Then she slipped on a muddy patch of road where water had pooled. He reached toward her at once.

Snap!

“Heh.”

But as if no one’s help was needed, Camilla righted herself with ease. Hands on her hips, she smiled, very pleased with herself.

He stared at her, blankly.

“......”

“......”

Their eyes met. He lowered his outstretched hand, slowly.

Her face was plainly flustered, so he turned away at once. Better to step aside before she bolted.

“Brother.”

But she called out to him.

Not even half a year had passed. In that time, he hadn’t seen her.

And when they met again—

“A welcome gift.”

—she was very different.

Brother.

It was the first time Camilla had called him that.

‘I......’

‘Um......’

Whatever had happened in the meantime, she had changed a great deal.

She called him Brother. She no longer shrank in front of their taciturn father.

“Hey, are you asleep?”

Even though they were true siblings, he and Ravi had been distant; that, too, seemed to have changed.

Late at night, the two of them sat facing each other in the dining room, looking unexpectedly close.

‘Strange.’

Catching sight of them by chance, Ludville had, on impulse, stepped between them.

He picked Camilla up before Ravi could. Ignoring Ravi’s offer to carry her himself, he left the dining room with her in his arms.

“Mm—”

But the Camilla who kept stirring in his arms suddenly began to cry. Why was she crying, all of a sudden?

“Don’t kill me......”

What?

“I want to live... sob......”

What was she saying?

“Don’t kill me......”

Hearing Camilla sob like that, he answered without thinking.

“I won’t.”

Did she hear him? A radiant smile formed on her face.

He looked down at her sleeping as if nothing had happened, then started walking again.

Even as he laid her in bed, deeply asleep, she did not wake easily.

Tap, tap.

He tucked the blanket up and quietly left the room. Then he looked back at her one last time.

“...Sleep well.”

It was the first greeting he had ever given his sister, Camilla.