A Fortune-telling Princess

“Who decided we should come here?”

“Me!”

Sunny. So sunny it’s impossible to get mad.

‘Sheesh.’

Arriving at a stream not far from the orphanage, Camilla let out a sigh.

The water was clean and the sunlight poured in. There were deep spots and shallow spots—perfect for the kids to play in the water.

Unusually for a mountain, there were plenty of flat patches too, good for kids to run around—but the problem was...

‘Why water ghosts, of all things.’

She could see the water ghosts peeking their faces out from the deeper part of the stream all too clearly.

Three of them, at that.

‘Is this a suicide spot?’

If not, why were there so [N O V E L I G H T] many water ghosts?

Or was there some dangerous zone perfect for killing people? Is it even okay to let the kids play?

“Sheesh.”

Compared to other ghosts, water ghosts hold stronger grudges and are far more mischievous. They aren’t evil spirits, but they’re ghosts that directly cause harm to people.

Normally she would’ve just ignored them. Pretended she hadn’t seen a thing...

“Zeno. Derrin.”

[Yes, my lady.]

[They’re getting on your nerves, aren’t they?]

There were kids here. She couldn’t leave a random risk lying around.

“Let’s take care of it.”

The moment Camilla finished speaking, Zeno and Derrin moved quickly toward the water ghosts.

Ghosts have their own pecking order. To things that lurk in the water and live like fiends, beings like Zeno and Derrin were rather frightening.

They could fully bring to bear the prowess they’d had while alive—even against ghosts.

[Kyahhh! Let me go! This is my spot! My space! What’s it to you what I do here!]

Two of the water ghosts bolted the instant Zeno and Derrin approached. But one—an early-thirties woman—screamed and resisted at the top of her lungs.

Even so, it was too much for her alone to handle Zeno and Derrin’s strength. With both arms seized, she was hoisted and dragged toward the trees.

[What are you! What!]

“Loud. Keep it down.”

Camilla, too, drifted that way, avoiding the others’ eyes.

[...] Y-you! You can see me?]

“If I can, so what?”

[That’s impossible! How does a living person see us!]

“Enough.”

Camilla cut her off at once.

“Keep up the racket and I’ll call a reaper.”

[...]

“I know one.”

He’d helped her—she could leverage that much.

As expected, reapers were frightening; the water ghost finally fell quiet.

“Sorry for taking your space, but I’m worried you’ll play tricks on the kids.”

[...It’s fine if we don’t touch the kids?]

“Adults are off-limits too.”

[...]

“If you promise to behave, I’ll let you go.”

When the water ghost still couldn’t answer easily, Camilla added one last warning.

“See that pitch-black human over there?”

She could see Arsian, who’d been fixed on her since she headed for the trees.

He’d already sensed the water ghosts; his eyes were downright murderous.

“He can see you like I can. But his personality is garbage, so if you get on his radar you’re gone—extinction.”

[...]

“There’s no counting how many ghosts have vanished after getting on his radar.”

The water ghost, who’d turned to look Arsian’s way, went even paler. It was almost interesting watching a face that was already bluish go bluer.

[...Fine.]

Camilla sent a look to Zeno and Derrin to release her. Only then did the two let go of the water ghost’s arms.

“I’ll keep watching.”

[I said okay!]

Pouting, the water ghost slid straight back into the stream.

“What was that?”

Arsian came over, frowning hard, having watched the whole thing from a distance.

He didn’t know the details, but he’d seen something hauled from the water, sit with Camilla, then slip back under.

“Water ghost.”

“Water ghost?”

“We should keep the kids from heading that way if we can.”

She’d gotten a promise, but she was still uneasy. This one had a temper compared to other water ghosts and didn’t seem particularly scared of them.

[Don’t worry. I’ll keep a good watch.]

[Me too.]

Hearing Derrin and Zeno, Camilla gave a small nod.

Those two could handle a water ghost like that easily enough.

“Kyaa!”

“It’s freezing!”

“Rio, try over there!”

“Sis! Fish!”

Before anyone knew it, most of the kids were in the water playing.

The little ones stayed in the shallows; the older, confident swimmers went to the deep.

Laila, Petro, and the other club members were already in the water, happily playing with the kids.

“Not going in?”

“I don’t like water. Especially water that cold—”

SPLASH!

“......”

Camilla’s gaze slowly dropped.

“Witch sis!”

“Play with us!”

The kids had declared a water fight on her.

“Sorry, but I’m not really into—”

SPLASH!

...So it’s war?

Camilla kicked off her shoes and stepped into the water up to her knees. The hem of her skirt dipped straight under, but she didn’t care.

“You’re all dead.”

“Kyaaah!”

What followed was a war with the kids.

“Look at her go.”

Said she hated playing in the water.

Watching Camilla throw her whole body into a genuine battle with the kids, Arsian let out a short laugh.

****

“...You look like a drowned rat.”

It hadn’t even been an hour, but it was more than enough time to soak Camilla to the bone.

After taking a barrage of water attacks from the kids, she came out dripping from head to toe.

“I’ll say it again—I hate cold water.”

Seeing her lips gone bluish and her body shivering, Arsian clicked his tongue.

“Just a moment.”

Petro, seeing her state, rushed to find a dry towel. But Arsian’s hand was quicker.

WUUUUNG—

A light spilled from his fingertips as he made a small motion, and it wrapped her in an instant. The water soaking her vanished.

“Oh...”

Camilla’s eyes sparkled with genuine admiration. In moments like this, she felt again how useful he was in so many ways.

“You went all-out against a bunch of brats.”

“There’s no ‘kids vs adults’ in a water fight.”

It was war, as advertised. And the result...

“Damn.”

Total defeat.

When a whole squad of little punks rushes you, you’ve got no chance. In the end she’d had to declare surrender and withdraw, gloriously.

“Ha...”

Arsian and Petro, who’d been staring at Camilla’s righteous indignation like it was ridiculous, finally burst into laughter at the same time.

“Your hair’s a mess.”

Arsian carefully smoothed her tangled hair.

“Tell me about it.”

Camilla gave a small laugh too.

“We won!”

“She surrendered!”

“Be on my team next time, sis!”

“Mine too!”

The kids were beaming at her. It felt strange. Had she ever played like this?

‘No.’

Not once. Not when she was little, not when she was grown—she’d never played without thinking.

Had anyone ever smiled at her that innocently? That, too, never.

‘Not bad.’

Watching the kids wave at her and shout to play again, Camilla was swept by a feeling she couldn’t name.

“...Huh?”

[Camilla!]

Someone rushed toward her then.

‘Ferrol?’

It was Ferrol, the chef’s ghost. He’d said he would stay at the ducal house—why was he suddenly here?

[Ferrol, what brings you here?]

Zeno and Derrin, having spotted Ferrol, hurried over as well.

[Something’s happened at the ducal house!]

[Happened? What?]

Seeing Ferrol’s hardened expression, Derrin’s face set too. He sensed something bad.

[His Grace collapsed!]

****

“Poison.”

“That’s impossible!”

Butler Rube shook his head violently at the healer’s words.

The realm Sorpel guarded most fiercely was poison. Because of the old affair of House Hersel’s head, the Guardian bloodline had nearly been cut off; they were all the more vigilant.

Every piece of tableware was enchanted to detect poison, and the heads of the house had built tolerance by ingesting trace amounts from childhood.

So how could he believe it? That the Duke of Sorpel had been poisoned!

He’d been having tea after dining with Rania when he suddenly collapsed.

Thanks to his tolerance, he hadn’t vomited blood on the spot or died, but he’d been unconscious for over an hour.

“What kind of poison?”

“Well...”

“You don’t know?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It has no distinguishing features.”

“He is definitely poisoned... but we can’t tell what kind. It’s a poison we’ve never encountered.”

They’d summoned everyone—from the family healers to the capital’s poison experts—but all only shook their heads.

“Father!”

Ravi and Ludville had rushed in at the emergency summons; their faces hardened at the healers’ words.

Was there truly no way?

“Um...”

As everyone sank deeper into despair, a quiet voice spoke up—Rania.

Rania, who had been clutching her hands and weeping the whole time the healers examined the Duke of Sorpel, pleaded earnestly.

“Could I try?”

“What?”

“You know I’m adept at healing magic.”

“But...”

“I can use a detoxification spe—”

SLAM!

At that moment the door flew open and someone strode in.

“...Camilla.”

It was Camilla, breathing hard.

Arsian was at her side. He’d cast transport magic from the stream to here.

“Poison?”

At her question, everyone nodded grimly.

Step.

Camilla moved quickly to the Duke of Sorpel. She opened the box she was carrying.

“What’s that?”

“Antidote.”

“What?”

Ravi asked, and Camilla answered simply. But at her words, the healers’ faces changed drastically.

“Wait, Lady Camilla! In a situation where we don’t even know the poison, if you use some random—”

“You mustn’t use it recklessly!”

“It could spread the toxin further!”

She knew. Better than anyone, she knew how reckless she was about to be.

“How long until you identify the poison? And to compound an antidote? Can Father last that long?”

“W-we’ll do our utmost...!”

“Talk is cheap. I can say that too.”

But—

“If you want to stop me, bring a way to break this situation along with it.”

She saw no other option.

“If all you’re going to do is wring your hands and ask what to do, then keep your mouths shut.”

At her cold shot—do you heal with words?—the healers drooped their heads with bleak expressions.