“You can’t just enter the royal palace, but a big tree is a different story.”
Climbing the tree with her fingers stuck between the bark, without any technique or skill, made her look like a crazed mountain dweller.
The dress Dane had painstakingly chosen—despite having no fashion sense—screamed in protest.
The ribbon, tied with care since morning, had loosened.
“Sorry, Dad.”
But sending one’s child off, even into danger, was also a parent’s role.
Aibel, now looking like a wild rascal atop the tree, believed that without a doubt.
“Hmmm…”
Her black eyes slowly scanned the landscape.
She hadn’t looked to the side even once while advancing, so she couldn’t even see the path she came from.
Instead, her eyes fell on a palace clearly isolated from the rest.
“Just as I thought.”
It was the farthest from the entrance, a place hard for outsiders to reach, even by accident.
She pouted her lips, stretching them long.
Looking like a battle-worn general, Aibel leapt from tree to tree with vigor.
“Where could he be? What if he’s inside the detached palace? Should I ambush him through a window?”
In truth, Aibel’s plan was ridiculously simple:
One: Meet the future villain, currently abandoned by the world and turning dark.
Two: Become close and instill proper ethics in him!
“I don’t care about the First Prince’s personal revenge…”
But the guilt-by-association that destroyed everyone who merely shared a meal with the king—that needed to be condemned.
“If the king says kill, then my dad has no choice but to obey!”
Moreover, the information Aibel had was extremely limited.
All she knew was that the First Prince had gone insane and ruined his family.
Compared to the countless reincarnated female leads who planned their entire careers right after transmigration or regression, her plan was laughably small.
“To all the seniors of this world—my respect!”
So, please, give me strength.
Gritting her lips, Aibel pushed off with determination.
“Ah!”
And promptly fell.
It was a tragedy born from the gap between her imagined leg length and reality.
Thud thud thud!
In those brief moments, Aibel managed to protect her head completely. She opened her eyes to an unexpectedly soft sensation.
“Soft?”
“Are you an assassin?”
A cold voice echoed from below.
Beneath her loosely fallen hair, a grim-faced boy was frowning.
Yes, a boy.
“A kid?”
It wasn’t Aibel who said it.
The boy, pressing his temple like he’d hit his head, muttered dryly:
“Are you actually a kid, or just look like one…”
“Uh, excuse me—”
“Get off.”
“Y-yes!”
Anyone else might’ve argued back, but not this time.
Feeling guilty, Aibel quickly got off the boy and bowed her head.
“I’m sorry. You’re the First Prince, right?”
Black hair, rare in this kingdom. Deep green eyes.
Informal speech.
A future villain she’d have to appease at least a hundred times moving forward.
“You got caught, so you won’t even try to hide it? Bold, or just…”
“S-sorry?”
“Who sent you?”
“What?”
“…Are you stupid?”
His genuine curiosity made her long lashes flutter rapidly.
But guilt-ridden, Aibel nodded honestly.
“I’m not that smart.”
“Seems you’re at least self-aware.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re really this dumb?”
His black brows furrowed slightly.
“So he’s around my age.”
Aside from the baby fat on his cheeks, he was thin and small.
The future villain was half a head shorter than Aibel.
Noticing her scrutiny, the prince curled one corner of his lips wryly.
“What, did your client say they needed my head or something?”
“I have no interest in your head, Prince.”
“Then what? Did they threaten your family? Say they’d kill them if you didn’t succeed? How much were you paid?”
As the conversation kept spiraling, Aibel smiled kindly and opened her mouth.
Misunderstandings like these had to be corrected early before they grew dangerous.
Drawing from all the media she’d read in both her past and current life, Aibel felt confident.
“I’m not an assassin, Your Highness.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
…She hadn’t planned for what to do if conversation failed.
“But it’s true?”
“Proof?”
“You don’t have any proof that I am either!”
“You jumped out of a tree intending to crush me.”
“That was—ugh…”
No matter how much she tried with her limited verbal skills, it wasn’t convincing the prince, who’d grown up alone in a corner of the palace.
“I swore I’d never use this trick with my brother, but…”
With logic failing, Aibel decided to use her last resort.
“So, how old are you?”
“…What?”
“How old are you, Your Highness?”
Caught off guard by the sudden age attack, the prince blinked.
“When you’re a kid, even a one- or two-year age gap feels huge.”
Aibel, who had a younger brother two years her junior, knew the power of age well.
Even in a world where status comes first, people instinctively respected those who were older and stronger.
Aibel, who was slightly taller than average for her age, straightened her back and asked again:
“How many springs have you seen, Your Highness?”
It was childish, but necessary.
“If it means survival, I’ll do anything.”
Dusting off the dirt from her bow earlier, Aibel smiled brightly.
“He’s either the same age as me or one or two years younger, at most.”
He might one day use brute force to throw the protagonists into hardship—but not yet.
She stared directly into the eyes of the boy smaller than her.
“The younger he is, the easier it is to establish dominance.”
If she could gain the upper hand in anything, it would be easier to teach—er, instill—a proper moral code.
“So, how old are you?”
Leaning in slightly with expectation, Aibel waited.
The prince’s pale face froze at the sudden closeness.
“I’ll be twelve soon.”
“…I see.”
Judging status by age is such an outdated method!
“I just turned ten a few days ago. I only came to the palace for fun and got lost.”
“Ten?”
“Yup! Such a cute, innocent age, right?”
Quickly shifting her tone, Aibel nodded innocently.
“I’m Aibel Dellapion.”
Her sunlight-kissed hair gleamed like peach blossoms.
“Innocent, huh.”
“I never imagined I’d meet the Prince today.”
Her bright smile was the kind you couldn’t help but pretend not to notice, even if you did.
But those clear green eyes held only the slightest trace of caution.
“Dellapion? Never heard of that house.”
“My father only just received his title.”
“So, no real lineage.”
“Oh, come on. My dad’s alive and well, you know. That is our lineage.”
What a mouth she’s got.
The prince’s deeply slanted eyes twitched—but only slightly.
“Still, this isn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe because he’s still young?”
The prince, who had just been struck by a human meteor under the tree’s shade, didn’t scream about punishing or executing her.
“Is it because he hasn’t turned bad yet? Or…”
His black eyes slowly moved down from her head to toe.
The shirt was fine quality, but the sleeves were too short, stopping above her wrists. The pants too.
“No power at all, huh?”
Despite being a slow grower, her clothes were clearly too small.
Aibel made a quick assessment of the future villain’s current condition:
One, the First Prince was utterly neglected with no caretaker.
Two—
“Even if I don’t have noble lineage, I’m pretty cute, right?”
“Are you really this dumb?”
“Oh dear…”
The fact that he wasn’t moved by her adorable charm showed he had zero taste—or even basic aesthetic sense.
“How can anyone look at me with such dry eyes?”
Disheartened by the prince’s emotional poverty, Aibel refused to give up.
After all, no villain is without a backstory.
Even if it didn’t justify their actions, perhaps the absence of such a “story” meant things could change.
Who knows—he might grow into a normal person who reciprocates kindness.
“Stay strong, Aibel. Your family’s lives depend on this.”
Though her smiling cheeks twitched slightly, she played her part well.
Straightening her wrinkled skirt, Aibel asked lightly:
“By the way, what are you doing out here?”
“I have no obligation to tell you.”
“As I said, I was just sightseeing around the palace!”
“As an assassin?”
“I told you I’m not an assassin!”
“So you were an assassin?”
“I never was, to begin with!”
