BWC 05

Chapter 5

For several days, countless people came and went by my side. Maids, servants, renowned doctors, even the king—all said it was a miracle that I had awakened.

They believed that my ignorance stemmed from amnesia caused by the illness, and thanks to that, I was able to grasp the surrounding situation without much difficulty.

It was now the year 842 of the Kingdom Calendar, more than 150 years after the era I had originally lived in.

Ellendril was under the reign of its 20th monarch, King Alexandre II. The queen had passed away long ago, and the only direct royal heir was his only daughter, Princess Estelle.

And Princess Estelle was already… sixteen years old.

I sat blankly on the bed, staring at my new reflection in the mirror.

Golden hair that shone like the moon, olive-green eyes, neat eyebrows, delicate features, and smooth white skin.

It was incomparable to the days when I had lived as the aged queen.

I thought being born again would mean waking up as a baby—so what happened?

I alternated between touching the mirror and my cheek. It still didn’t feel real that this beautiful face was now mine.

While I sat there staring into the mirror, the door to my bedroom suddenly opened.

“Estelle.”

Estelle. Estelle Elizabeth Marie Ellen.

That was the name I had grown accustomed to over the past few days. And the one who came to see me now was none other than the ruler of this kingdom, Alexandre II—my father in this life.

Instinctively, I rose from my seat and bowed to the king.

“Your Majesty.”

“There’s no need to get up. Sit, please.”

With a hasty wave of his hand, Alexandre prevented me from kneeling or greeting him formally, leaving me to sit back down awkwardly on the bed.

“How are you feeling?”

He asked in a worried voice. I lowered my gaze to the floor and answered as politely as I could.

“I’m fine, Your Majesty. Thank you for your concern.”

“Estelle…”

Suddenly, his trembling voice brushed past my ears. I glanced up at him, only to see his face etched with anxiety and confusion.

Had I done something wrong?

Tension crept in as I clenched my hands and reviewed my actions. But before I could fully retrace my steps, Alexandre dropped to one knee in front of me and met my gaze.

Startled, I gasped.

The King of Ellendril, the godlike father of the princess, the very ruler who could make nobles and royals alike tremble—was kneeling before me!

“Your Majesty…!”

As I hurried to rise from my seat, Alexandre’s hand gently touched my cheek.

I flinched and froze in place. His fingers were warm. The unfamiliar, tender touch sent a chill down my spine.

Then came his overly gentle voice, which felt burdensome.

“Are you angry?”

Angry? Me? At you?

I couldn’t understand the intent of the question. It wasn’t even a question that should exist. Who in their right mind would dare to be angry at the king?

I frantically waved my hands to deny his words.

“No, Your Majesty. Of course not!”

“Truly?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Why would I be angry? Absolutely not.”

So please, just get up!

I grew restless and leaned toward him. My body slid forward off the bed on its own. His chestnut eyes were now right in front of me.

Eyes that gently embraced me—something I’d never once seen in my previous life.

“Careful, Estelle. You’ll get hurt like that.”

Alexandre, with almost shocking gentleness, helped me up and carefully guided me back onto the bed. His touch was strong yet soft, kind even.

“As long as you’re not angry, that’s all that matters. Make sure to eat well, prioritize your health above all else for now. If you need anything, just say the word.”

I nodded, still dazed.

“Thank… you, Your Majesty.”

As soon as I finished speaking, his brows furrowed ever so slightly. I flinched and looked at him again. He let out a deep, weary sigh.

“I should go. Rest well.”

He smiled warmly once more, then turned on his heel. I couldn’t find the right words, so I simply bowed deeply toward his retreating figure.

As soon as the door closed, I instinctively began analyzing what had just happened.

The king had asked me if I was angry. Then he had knelt in front of me. And just before leaving, he sighed as he looked at me.

There was no doubt—I had done something wrong.

But what mistake had I made?

I slowly retraced my words and actions. From a common-sense perspective, I hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d greeted him properly and responded politely.

Then what had triggered such a sensitive reaction?

“Your Majesty.”

Suddenly, that simple title popped into my head.

That was it. His eyes had visibly shaken every time I said “Your Majesty.”

In other words, the king—who must hear that title hundreds of times a day—was upset because I used it to address him.

…Why?

I had found the answer, but it made no sense.

In my previous life, I had addressed him as “Your Majesty” until the day he died. All royal children were considered subjects before they were considered family, and I had been a low-born illegitimate child.

Of course, in this life I wasn’t illegitimate—I was his legitimate daughter. But that didn’t change the fact that Alexandre was my sovereign before he was my father.

So why would he be upset that I called him “Your Majesty”?

What kind of twisted logic was that?

Did nearly losing his daughter suddenly awaken some dormant paternal instinct? Or was he just playing at being a warm, affectionate father out of some momentary whim?

Maybe he’d storm back in later and throw a tantrum about the whole thing…

“Your Highness.”

A voice outside the door suddenly caught my attention.

I had been so deep in thought that I didn’t respond, and the person called out to me again.

“Your Highness?”

Startled, I snapped out of it and responded automatically.

“Uh, what is it?”

My voice came out drowsy, like I was talking in a dream.

The sudden change in my environment, the unfamiliar people, the king’s incomprehensible behavior—it all felt so surreal, like I was still in a dream.

Get a grip. You can’t keep doing this. This isn’t a dream. You have to pull yourself together and start gathering information. If you just sit here, nothing will change.

I shook my head vigorously, trying to snap myself out of it.

“The Marchioness of Lamian is here.”

…Great.

That was completely unnecessary.

If anything could shock me back into reality, it was the overwhelming number of problems—both from my past life and this one.

A chill spread from the top of my head down to my toes. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over me.

The Marchioness of Lamian.

A name I had thought I’d never hear again in this life.

All my other thoughts evaporated instantly. My mind was now a whirlwind of everything I knew about her.

“…Who did you say?”

The person outside answered again, this time with a slightly annoyed tone.

“The Marchioness of Lamian, Your Highness.”