Chapter 37:
I flinched, about to call someone, but closed my mouth again when I saw the blade of the dagger.
What Oscar had drawn wasn’t a real weapon, but a practice sword commonly used by boys his age.
It couldn’t cause real harm, but it was enchanted with illusion magic that left temporary marks resembling wounds wherever it struck.
These marks were seen as a kind of disgrace, and children often used them to determine the winner in duels.
“Oh? You’ve got a dagger?”
The larger boy whistled, showing no sign of panic, and drew his own practice sword from his belt.
“Wow, my brother is really good at swordsmanship!”
“Yeah! I want to see too!”
The two children watching cheered with interest in their eyes.
Swish—
It was visibly longer and heavier than Oscar’s. Judging by how the boy held it steadily with one hand, he must’ve trained quite a bit.
Oscar’s already tense hand began to tremble.
“Not going to regret this?”
The boy smirked confidently, as if he was fully aware of his physical superiority.
“If you beg now, I’ll forgive you.”
Oscar’s face flushed even more, but he didn’t back down. The two stared each other down, ready to lunge at any moment.
Step.
I stepped out from between the garden shrubs. If I let this go on, Oscar was going to suffer a worse humiliation.
After all, it felt wrong to let the son of the Count of Rostian—who had just helped promote the trade route—get beaten up while I stood by.
“…Don’t.”
As soon as they heard my voice, all four children turned their heads toward me.
“…What?”
“You’ve got the wrong target.”
I looked at the broken garden shrubs they had kicked and snapped.
“You’re the ones who should be apologizing. And he’s the one who should be deciding whether to forgive you.”
“…Who are you supposed to be?”
The boy holding the sword and glaring at Oscar turned to me with a frown. The other two looked at me with puzzled expressions.
“Wait, do you have these kinds of trees at your place too? Is your family ruined too?”
The bob-haired boy who had been egging on the fight with sparkling eyes cut in.
“Or don’t tell me—you like Oscar? He doesn’t seem like he’s in any position to date.”
The girl giggled and pointed at Oscar.
What a bunch of rude brats.
Should I toss them all in the kitchen with Louis and make them bake a hundred loaves of bread a day until they learn manners?
Or just hand them over to Sion for a day. That would fix their behavior fast.
“Never seen you before.”
The girl tilted her head and took a step toward me, her mocking tone replaced by curiosity.
“I’m Jenny Rosette. My mom is the head of the Rosette trading company.”
She pointed at herself with a look that clearly expected admiration.
“I’m Elliot Riel, son of Baron Riel. And that guy with the sword is my brother, Alvin.”
The bob-haired boy copied the girl’s tone.
They were clearly waiting for my reply, trying to decide how to treat me based on who I was.
Alvin and Oscar also glanced at me, swords still in hand.
“Harper Luperne.”
I answered. A small thought crossed my mind as I spoke.
Should I mention whose daughter I am?
My father’s name felt awkward to say out loud, so after a brief pause, I mentioned the first name that came to mind.
“…Callista Luperne is my sister.”
All four of them—Oscar included—blinked in surprise.
“The Duke Luperne family?”
The three children (excluding Oscar) asked in unison. I nodded, and they exchanged strange glances.
After a brief silence, a meaningful smile appeared on Alvin’s face.
He muttered as if talking to himself.
“That… fake princess?”
Jenny Rosette and the bob-haired boy giggled together.
Hearing the nickname from my past life that I had nearly forgotten made my face darken.
“A perfect pair. The fake princess and the beggar viscount’s son.”
Alvin sneered and kept spinning his sword while eyeing Oscar.
I furrowed my brows like Theon often did.
“He’s not a beggar. The Count of Rostian’s business has been revived.”
I stepped forward toward Alvin as I spoke.
I didn’t have much of a plan. I just intended to tell them what had happened while they were busy snapping garden trees.
“If anything, Baron Riel’s the one who should be worried.”
With a bit of prior knowledge.
“W-What?!”
Alvin, the sword-wielding boy, scowled and shouted. His brother copied his expression.
“The Baron Riel family grew their distribution business by partnering with the Rostian family. But when the Count’s house started faltering, they launched their own silk business to replace them.”
I combined what I’d read in the Empire’s noble genealogy with what I’d heard at the banquet.
“I saw it myself at the banquet. As soon as the former Count of Rostian appeared, the investors from Riel’s side all started aligning with him instead. He’s far more reliable.”
It was true. While everyone else was busy obsessing over Greenleaf, the sharper merchants had paid attention to the return of Eustice Rostian.
With his established reputation, credibility, grand reappearance, and his visible connections with people like Theon and me, the former Count reclaimed his position at the center of imperial business after years of absence.
Even Baron Riel had been trying to cozy up to him again. If he knew how his sons were treating Oscar, he’d probably faint.
“Shut up!”
Alvin and Elliot both shouted at the same time.
But their eyes looked hollow. It seemed they didn’t quite understand what I’d said.
“Is that true? You really saw the former Count?”
Only Jenny, the one who introduced herself as the merchant’s daughter, seemed to grasp the implications and asked again. I nodded, and her eyes widened.
“…Then Baron Riel is really in trouble.”
She muttered quietly, seemingly doing calculations in her head. Elliot, hearing her words, started looking anxious instead of smug.
“Now that you know—”
I was about to turn away, having more or less wrapped things up.
“Th-That’s a lie!”
Alvin, who had been trembling with clenched teeth, suddenly shouted.
When I turned, his face was even redder than before. Unlike his brother, he was trying hard not to let my words shake him.
That’s when I realized why Alvin’s reactions had been more extreme than the other two brats.
Ah. He likes that girl.
Alvin looked even angrier at Jenny’s words than at mine, and before I could react, he moved his right hand.
Swish—
The sword that had been pointed at Oscar now cut through the air threateningly, stopping right at my neck.
“Take it back.”
He growled, and the watching kids all gasped at once.
All except me.
“…It’s a practice sword, isn’t it?”
I let out a hollow laugh. The blade might look sharp, but it couldn’t actually cut a person.
Sure, it could leave unsightly marks. Someone might even mock me for it. But so what?
After seeing real blades flying at my throat in my past life, I wasn’t the least bit worried about something like honor. Even if it was just a memory now.
“…Go on. Stab me.”
I said. Alvin flinched.
“You said you’re not scared of a fake princess, right? Then do it.”
He hadn’t expected that. His lips trembled slightly.
So he has a shred of reason after all.
Whether I was fake or real, no noble would like hearing their son raised a sword against an unarmed eight-year-old girl.
Especially not now, when the empire’s entire business sector was watching me. But the boy in front of me had no idea.
“Hngh!”
Alvin, seemingly unable to retreat, raised his sword again while glaring at me.
Fine. Hit me just once.
Swish—
I heard something cut through the air and braced myself, eyes shut.
Thud!
A heavy impact echoed in my ears.
…Thud?
Was that how fake swords were supposed to sound? And why didn’t I feel anything?
I’d been prepared to at least get shoved hard, but confused, I opened one eye.
“Ugh…”
There was Alvin, face planted into the ground.
His collar was stretched as if someone had grabbed and thrown him.
“…Are you okay?”
I turned at the sudden voice—and saw someone who hadn’t been there a moment ago.
A smaller boy with pale skin.
“…Huh?”
I looked up and finally saw his face clearly.
Dark, soft-looking hair. Striking features. Mysterious dark green eyes.
Where did he even come from?
He stood between me and Alvin, catching his breath.
It was the boy I’d met in the alleys of the capital.
“…Harper.”
His distinctly red lips moved slightly.
“Harper Luperne.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but then a voice rang out—fierce and burning with rage…
