Chapter 5. I Became the Youngest Princess of Asura Masura (4)
I came down with a light cold, as if it were the next step in a well-planned sequence.
“It was the cold snap on the day of the baptism. It was your first time outdoors, so no wonder your body had trouble adjusting.”
That was the royal physician’s diagnosis. But in truth, it was probably the stress of feeling like I’d disappointed my family.
‘Is it because I’m in a baby’s body that even a simple cold feels so much worse…?’
Maybe it was because I hadn’t built up any physical resilience—just enduring a mild fever was exhausting. I kept crying from the discomfort.
Thankfully, the entire imperial palace was thrown into a panic.
Since it was right after the baptism, none of the “Overprotective Cecile Plans” had yet been implemented—almost as if they’d been waiting for a crisis. Of course, I could still mostly only lie down…
“She cools down when I use my powers, but it only helps temporarily. The fever won’t go down.”
“This must be due to Cecile’s divine power… No, wait. Even with divine power, it’s not easy for a baby like Cecile to recover strength on her own.”
“It’s okay, sweetie. You’ll get better soon. This will keep you safe.”
My older brother Theodore placed a plush doll in my arms, one that looked like he’d kept close for a long time. Of course, Rebecca had already purified it with divine power.
“Sweetheart, Cecile. Try just a tiny bite of this. It’s a tonic popular among our trainees.”
“Haaaang…!”
“Sister, I think it’s too bitter for Cecile.”
“How about we melt it with some chocolate first?”
Roselia even tried feeding me something that must’ve been strong enough to numb an adult’s taste buds.
It was shocking enough that I didn’t have divine power, but the fact that I got so sick—almost like proof—seemed to alarm my family even more.
My mother stopped by the nursery whenever she had a break from official duties, and my siblings came to check on me even during their mealtimes.
Rebecca in particular stayed in my room almost constantly, doing her best to reduce my fever.
‘It’s been a long time since anyone worried about me when I was sick…’
Memories of being alone and ill in my past life surfaced faintly.
‘Well, even before I moved out, my younger sibling was always sicker than me, so I guess it wasn’t much different when I was little either.’
I even remembered the times when boyfriends would bring me cold medicine or porridge. But once that affection became more of a duty, they would leave. Maybe I kept dating even when I knew it would end in failure—because I craved that kind of care.
And eventually…
‘I’m just sick and overthinking everything. It’s all in the past now.’
A tear trickled down the side of my face.
Oddly enough, it made my eyes feel clearer.
“Oh, Cecile…”
My family sighed in sympathy as they watched.
For several days, I slept almost as much as I had when I was first born, drifting in and out of feverish haze. The difference was that even when I was awake, I was too ill to be fully aware.
When I did wake, sorrow from my past life would flood in; when I slept, I was swallowed by darkness. The cycle repeated for days.
‘…Where am I?’
I was in a strange place.
Surrounded by fabric on all sides, the space resembled a tent.
On one side sat a makeshift desk and chair, and on the other were neatly arranged weapons and armor.
It looked like a military tent.
‘…Is this a dream?’
Just as I was trying to grasp what was happening—
“Is the rumor true?”
“What rumor, Dame Erina?”
“Shh, they’ll hear you.”
“So what? Is she still holed up in there?”
I heard murmuring voices from outside the tent. Then one suddenly spoke louder.
“Hey, is Dame Erina in there?”
“No one is allowed inside.”
That answer came from right at the entrance—it must have been the guard.
“See? I told you. Keep your voice down.”
“Oh, whatever. It’s not like she’ll admit it anyway. I mean, can you really have a baby here?”
The voices faded as they walked away.
So this was Dame Erina’s tent?
It felt like a dream, yet disturbingly vivid.
Crackle, crackle. I heard the fire in the brazier.
“…Waaah.”
“Shh, baby…”
I heard a baby fussing somewhere nearby.
My eyes instinctively turned in that direction.
It was the fastest movement I’d made since being born as Cecilia.
On the bed in the darkest corner of the tent lay a woman in a linen tunic.
‘Then that must be Dame Erina…’
Her loosely tied reddish-brown hair hung over muscular arms and shoulders. It was the body of a warrior, no doubt.
And in her arms, she held a baby wrapped in cloth.
The baby’s black hair and pale, flour-white skin stood out in stark contrast to the tanned arms that held it.
The gossiping men outside hadn’t been wrong.
‘She looks even smaller than when I first saw Cecile in the mirror.’
Erina gently brushed the baby’s hair. Sweat had matted it down, but her touch revealed the baby’s round forehead.
“There, there. You’ll be okay.”
Her hand lingered on the baby’s forehead. Slowly, the child’s crying quieted.
‘Is that divine power?’
If Erina was a knight in this world, she might be a holy knight who could wield divine power.
But how can a dream be so realistic? It’s not like I’m spying on someone…
As I wondered and considered waking up, the baby’s eyes fluttered open.
‘Such pretty red eyes.’
Erina had blue ones, so maybe the father had red eyes?
With that thought, I exited the dream.
In the early dawn light, I felt more mentally clear than I had in days.
After a full week, I was declared fully recovered. And two weeks later, those assigned to care for me began to arrive.
“Your Highness, these are the maids who will be attending you from today. Girls, greet her.”
“It’s an honor, Your Highness! I’m Maryjane, second daughter of Marquess Granum. I’m thirteen, and I have two younger siblings, so I’m good at playing! You’re absolutely radiant…”
“Radiant? That’s an understatement. Her Highness looks just like a baby angel from a museum statue. I’m Patricia, fifth child of Count Buchanan—second daughter. I’ll be thirteen next month. I’m great with hair!”
‘Ugh… Why are they so intense?’
And so I found myself bewildered by their overwhelming affection. I had just barely gotten used to my royal family…
Maryjane, with black hair braided on both sides, and Patricia, whose brown hair flowed in a stylish half-updo.
These two girls, from prominent imperialist noble families, had been carefully chosen by my nanny to serve as my maids. Since my lack of divine power was a closely guarded secret, the selection had to be handled delicately.
‘The noble faction isn’t openly anti-imperial, so they’re not enemies—but still, this shows how serious the situation is… The original villains all came from the noble faction, but that’s twenty years from now.’
Sitting on the plush sofa arranged for my lounging convenience, I carefully slid down and approached them.
With the most dignified expression I could manage, I held out my right hand.
“Da bwuthahe.”
And just like that, my dignity crumbled… Sigh. I really need to get better soon.
The girls, unaware of how disgruntled I felt, sparkled with admiration as they gently took my hand.
“You’re saying ‘please take care of me,’ right? So wise! The honor is all mine, Your Highness!”
“No, it’s mine! Wow, this is the first handshake I’ve ever had in my life!”
Do women here not shake hands? I really need to learn etiquette quickly, so I can adapt to both this world and Cecile’s status.
While I was thinking that, the two girls knelt closer to get a better look at me.
“Don’t make Her Highness uncomfortable. Her body is delicate.”
“This is my first time seeing the Imperial Jewel up close…”
“Those green-gold eyes… They’re so mysterious. That golden tint in the irises…”
My lack of divine power was a secret even from them—officially, I was just frail.
‘Even the priests and court painter at the baptism had to sign confidentiality oaths.’
It was unthinkable for someone brimming with divine power to be sickly, so even that had to be kept secret. Hence, only trusted noble families were chosen.
So publicly, having two personal maids at such a young age was framed as overprotectiveness from the Imperial Family.
Though in truth, this was just the beginning.
Knock, knock.
The door opened, and in walked two large young men.
“Sir Ransel. Sir Brandon.”
“We’re here to hand over the shift and take our leave.”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Ransel and Brandon were my assigned personal knights, the result of one of Roselia’s “Cecile Overprotection Ideas.”
They were part of a squad of eight holy knights assigned to guard the Fourth Princess.
Split into four pairs, they worked in rotating three-shift teams. All handpicked by Roselia for their youth and promise.
In short, eight elite holy knights were assigned to guard a baby who hadn’t even left the nursery yet…
Considering my older brother Theodore only had three knights, this was clearly overkill.
Just how far would the Imperial Family go with their obsessive doting on the youngest princess?
“Your Highness, we will take our leave now.”
“See you during the night shift, Your Highness.”
“Da gaaa!”
I waved my little hand at the two solemn-faced knights, who were a head taller than my nanny. Their expressions twitched ever so slightly.
‘Right? You both dreamed of glory, and now you’re stuck as nursery doormen. Must be frustrating.’
Shoo, shoo. Go train or something. I waved them off with silent encouragement.
Maryjane and Patricia, who had apparently just met, seemed a bit wary of each other at first. But…
“Patty, let’s use this ribbon for her hair today.”
“I think this deep green matches Her Highness’s eyes perfectly. It gives a unified look.”
“Nah. Red will create a nice contrast as an accent.”
“Ooh, good point. Excellent eye. Should we match the socks too?”
They quickly became close, bonding over a shared obsession with styling Cecile.
“Dae-toong hae!” (Just go with it!)
“‘Just go with it,’ Your Highness? Do you know how long it’s been since you last saw His Highness the Crown Prince?”
“A month or two?”
“Well, yes. But that’s a tenth of your life so far.”
“Gedda! I’m two tarrie soon!” (Exactly! I’ll be two soon!)
“Yes, yes. You’re doing great, Your Highness. His Highness the Crown Prince, Their Majesties, and the other princes and princesses are all doing fine, but we’re the ones barely holding it together.”
“That’s right, Your Highness. We just want to make you look as adorable as possible.”
“Pfft.”
Oh please. You’re just using me for your doll dress-up games. If Cecile weren’t this pretty, do you really think you’d love me this much?
I expressed my discontent with every inch of my tiny face—but all it earned me was a round of delighted giggles from the girls.
…Ugh. I really need to grow up. Fast.
