~Chapter 9~
“Find your place.”
The emperor’s gaze, fixed on his youngest son, was more serious and weighty than ever.
Antonio let out a dry chuckle.
“Since when did I ever have a place in this palace?”
He retorted flatly. It felt like just yesterday that he’d been chased out of this place fifteen years ago.
At age seven, he’d suffered from a mysterious fever. The symptoms were diagnosed as early signs of magical awakening.
There had been cases of royal children manifesting magical power before. In such instances, it was customary to bring a court magician to educate the child.
But instead, the young boy, still feverish and runny-nosed, was banished to a distant continent known as the cradle of magic.
“Wasn’t that just your way of telling me to live my life as an exile?”
In a foreign land, vomiting dozens of times from seasickness, young Antonio believed he’d been thrown away.
Because he was the child who slowly drained the life from the empress, whom the emperor loved more than his own life.
Because he was born weak and useless, after finally killing his own mother during childbirth.
That was why he pushed himself so hard to become strong.
Clears throat.
The emperor set down his pipe and cleared his throat.
“I don’t know why you always have to be so cynical. Thanks to that, though, you’ve grown into a fine magic swordsman, famous even beyond the continent.”
“Hearing you say that almost makes it worth becoming famous. So, what task do you want to assign me now?”
Antonio still wore his defiant attitude and urged the emperor to get to the point. He had a rough idea already—he’d heard that magical beasts were causing trouble across the empire lately.
“When it comes to succession, I intend to be strictly merit-based from now on.”
“Where did that come from all of a sudden?”
“From this point forward, I plan to bet my stake on you.”
Antonio was inwardly shaken by the certainty in his father’s face.
Was he really suggesting that the abandoned son should sit on the throne? The empire already had a crown prince, not to mention the second and third princes firmly in place.
No—it was obvious he just wanted to mess with him. Antonio sneered and shook his head openly at the emperor.
“You seem to be mistaken. My only skill is cleanly slitting the throats of magical beasts. You should know I never received an ounce of political education.”
“You simply never had the opportunity.”
Ha. Antonio was sick of hearing such detached nonsense. Wasn’t the very man who denied him that opportunity sitting right in front of him?
“Ah, so now that you’ve seen your three sons turn out to be scoundrels, none of them meet your standards?”
“…Antonio.”
“From the looks of it, they’re a bit slow, honestly. They go around beating up defenseless hostages.”
“You have her face too. Elaine’s face.”
The emperor seemed to find traces of the late empress in his youngest son’s features.
Antonio met his father’s eyes and slowly examined his face. The fierce gold eyes of the emperor were chillingly identical to his own.
And yet, this was the man who never sent a single letter for fifteen years. Now, he spoke of succession and stakes.
“I’ll give you a chance to prove your worth, Antonio.”
“….”
Antonio remained silent. There had to be a reason the emperor was suddenly doing this.
“As you know, magical beasts are rampaging everywhere. The lords of various regions have been raising a fuss, so I plan to dispatch support forces in three waves.”
The emperor laid out his plan.
Bird-type beasts like harpies and hippogriffs were swarming throughout the Tristum Empire.
“The first wave has already departed. The second will set out soon. For the third wave… I want you to lead your own knights and handle it.”
The emperor took a deep draw from his pipe, and a thick plume of acrid smoke wafted from his dry lips.
Antonio furrowed one eyebrow. He noticed something unusual about the substance in the pipe.
It was narcotic herb, typically used when stitching up limbs severed in battle.
There were only two times one would use such a thing:
‘Either the injury is severe… or it’s the final stage of a terminal illness, just trying to numb the pain until death.’
Antonio scanned his father’s body. His complexion looked tolerable, but the wrist holding the pipe was as thin as a winter branch.
Perhaps he didn’t have long left to live. Maybe that explained this erratic behavior.
“When should I assume departure?”
He’d slain thousands of avian beasts before. This wouldn’t be difficult.
He had no interest in a power struggle, but—
Seeing Antonio agree so readily noticeably brightened the emperor’s expression.
“I plan to hold a large banquet soon. You should depart after that.”
“A banquet? In this situation?”
“Javier is already turning twenty-four. I plan to use the occasion to find him a bride. There are several princesses from border states I’ve been keeping an eye on.”
It became clear: the emperor intended to marry off his third son, Javier, to a princess from a frontier principality.
Antonio understood the motive. The emperor wanted to push Javier out to the provinces, preventing him from taking root in central politics.
If Javier married a royal daughter of a principality, he’d become co-ruler of that region. That naturally forced him to withdraw from imperial affairs.
“Then I’ll make preparations to depart after the banquet.”
“At the banquet, you should also look for a potential bride.”
Antonio stared at his father’s face.
“We’ve invited not only princesses from principalities but also daughters of powerful noble houses, both domestic and foreign. I heard you’ve never kept a woman by your side in Saragot?”
Antonio said nothing. He had spent over five years focused solely on slaying magical beasts. Other than fellow magic swordsmen, he hadn’t formed any close bonds.
He turned his eyes disinterestedly toward the window.
Through the window behind the central palace, he could see the familiar outline of a building.
Ruby Palace. That prison the princess so desperately wanted to escape.
The burning red sunset illuminated one corner of the building.
Seeing that, he remembered. A way to get her out of that cursed Ruby Palace.
‘…There was no need to overthink it. I just need to destroy it.’
After all, the only thing he’d ever learned was how to destroy things.
A quiet smile crept across his otherwise expressionless face.
Snip. Snip.
As soon as morning broke, I sat in front of the desk mirror and cut my bangs.
With each awkward snip, short strands of hair fell like powder onto the desk.
My once-obscured vision cleared completely, and my pale teal eyes were now fully visible.
It looked a little better than before, but…
The bangs were so uneven, it looked like a rat had chewed them off.
“Pfft.”
I burst out laughing at my ridiculous reflection in the mirror.
I’d cut my bangs because I’d decided there was no longer any point in hiding my face.
The path to the monastery was closed. I now understood I wouldn’t be leaving Ruby Palace for a while, so I wanted to move around freely, in a way that felt natural to me.
It wasn’t like showing my face would change anything dramatically.
Besides, the long bangs had become annoying—constantly blocking my sight.
Anyway, the princesses of Ruby Palace were all dazzling beauties. No one would pay me any special attention.
Knock knock.
A knock came at the door. It was around the time Jane, the maid, usually brought in the wash water.
I opened the door and took the basin from her. I thanked her and was just about to shut the door when—
“W-Wait a moment, Princess Josephine!”
Jane caught the door and called out to me.
“…Yes?”
“Would it be alright if I trimmed your bangs a little? I-I mean, if you don’t mind!”
Jane pointed at my forehead with both hands.
I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. So even a maid thinks they look bad…
“I’m actually really good at haircuts. I always cut my little siblings’ hair! I’m confident I can clean it up nicely!”
Jane clenched her tiny fist and spoke with determination. She clearly wouldn’t leave until she’d fixed my bangs.
“Alright. Then I’ll leave it to you.”
In the end, I let her in. If borrowing someone else’s hands could improve it even a little, then that was fine.
Jane quickly sat down at my desk, holding the scissors upright with practiced care. With gentle, delicate movements, she began trimming my bangs.
Snip. Snip. The soft, ticklish sound brushed my ears as she carefully neatened the cut.
“All done, Princess!”
Jane patted away the loose hairs from my nose and cheeks with a handkerchief.
“Thanks, Jane. I’ll clean up the hair, so go ahead and get going.”
“…”
“What’s wrong?”
Jane was acting strangely. She didn’t respond—just stood there staring blankly at my face.
