• CHAPTER 03

‘That’s strange. Why don’t I know that?’

Right now, he was stationed here with his army, practically occupying the territory—yet this place belonged to the very princess standing before him.

She was the rightful heir to the throne and the head of all mages in existence.

In that case, shouldn’t he at least know something about her?

But he didn’t even know her name. Worse, he hadn’t even thought it strange not to know.

This didn’t make any sense. He was stunned by the utter blankness of his mind.

“Princess.”

“Who? Oh, you mean me?”

“I know it’s rude, but… may I ask?”

“Ask what?”

“May I have the honor of your name?”

The intense look in his eyes, as if determined to finally learn the answer, startled Taeri. She hesitated, unable to answer right away.

Is it okay to tell him that?
She couldn’t exactly bluff her way through it with a made-up name.

After a moment’s consideration, she decided to skip the bad acting and just tell the truth.

“My name is Taeri.”

“Taeri.”

Taeri… Sonetti? That sounded very off.

Claude silently mouthed the name to himself, trying to make it fit, then quickly regained his usual courteous posture.

“I apologize for my repeated disrespect.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“I only came to greet you. If you experience any discomfort while staying here, please let me know. I’m sure His Majesty will also be concerned once he hears that the Princess has returned.”

If Taeri had actually been a ‘real’ princess, those words would’ve been enough to make her throw a drink in his face.

He had barged into her empty home and taken over without permission, yet he was acting like he was the rightful owner and she was just some guest.

But Taeri didn’t get angry.

In a way, the protagonist was always meant to be the victorious one. That’s how the story goes. That’s how she could eventually find a way back home.

He was the hero destined to save the world.

So honestly, she was even grateful he’d opened the door to cooperation.

“Alright. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

“There’s no need to clench your fists so tightly just to say that…”

“Then, can I ask something right away?”

“…Go ahead.”

“What’s the current situation here? Has anything… changed?”

What she really wanted to ask was, “Have you seen a dragon? Or even signs of one?” But saying that out of nowhere would definitely make her sound crazy.

Gotta ease into it.

Thankfully, Claude didn’t find her question strange.

“Ah. You must’ve been shocked by how much has changed.”

Returning to her homeland after years, only to find it in ruins and crawling with a foreign military—it was only natural that it would feel alien.

For the first time, Claude found something he could empathize with in her. Determined to reclaim the lead in the conversation, he reminded himself of his duty as the enemy commander.

“When we arrived, most of the cities had already been wiped out. The only thing left was a final line of defense—walls erected between the forest and the villages.”

To block the monster waves pouring out of the forest, mages had burned away their own life force and magic to erect a massive mana barrier.

Even the knights of Valorant, who had once scorned magic as vulgar, were left awestruck.

“Of course, the cost must have been devastating. Still, the time they bought allowed many to escape safely. I presume that’s how you survived as well, Your Highness?”

What was once a proud magical kingdom had now become an overrun ruin, reduced to a trial ground for thrill-seeking adventurers.

Honestly, from Claude’s perspective, the fact that anything here was still standing was a miracle.

“Security will be strictly enforced from now on, so there’s no need to—Are you listening?”

Something felt off.

Up until a moment ago, she’d been talking openly, saying whatever she pleased—but now she didn’t respond at all.

With her eyelids lowered, she looked gloomy. Maybe even like she was about to cry. Claude, who had been leaning back comfortably, immediately sat up straight.

Was I too harsh?

This wasn’t what he intended.

He was only trying to play the role of the enemy commander—not actually hurt her.

Not at all.

He dropped the authoritative act almost instantly.

“Are you alri—”

Claude instinctively reached out.

But just as his fingers were about to touch her, in the split second when her face lifted, he saw it—like a faint mist in her eyes.

Her expression was blank, but a shadow of sorrow hung behind it, like a silent backdrop. His chest tightened in that brief moment.

As she noticed his approaching hand, her eyes widened slightly.

“Were you worried?”

“No.”

Worried? Absolutely not.

It just felt… off. That’s all. It just kind of got to him.

Claude denied it faster than light, but Taeri shook her head slowly.

“You were worried. You were afraid I got hurt. It’s all over your face.”

“With all due respect, that’s quite a misreading.”

“I’m fine. I’ve become too numb to get hurt by everything now.”

Yeah right. What a lie. He’d seen it.

Her face might’ve been blank, but it wasn’t dry.

She’d looked like someone drifting in the deep sea.

If she keeps bottling things up like that, she’s only going to hurt herself. Claude took a long sip of cold juice to steady himself.

“I misjudged you. You’re a better person than I expected. Not that a protagonist could really be evil, but—”

And then he spat the juice right back out.

Damn it!

If there hadn’t been a hand in the way, he might’ve cursed out loud.

How does a place like this not have a single napkin?!

He frantically covered his mouth with one hand while looking for anything to wipe with. Then, the princess suddenly stood, cleared away his cup, and yanked off the entire tablecloth to hand to him.

“Wipe your clothes first, before it stains.”

Did she seriously expect me to use this… this brightly checkered thing?

And she wasn’t even worried about his face—just his clothes.

Because they were white. And the juice might stain them.

“…Alright. Thank you.”

As he scrubbed at the juice on his clothes, she frowned.

“No, not like that. Don’t rub—press gently so it absorbs.”

He gritted his teeth a little, but didn’t argue. He pressed down just like she said.

Only after roughly cleaning his clothes did he start wiping the juice off his face.

Taeri leaned on the table, resting her chin in her hand, watching him swat at his own face like a flustered bird. A quiet thought slipped from her lips.

He really listens well.

‘He really is the quintessential protagonist. Even when he tries to act tough, he’s still kind at heart. How can someone be so earnest and clueless?’

That small comment he’d made earlier—it hadn’t just been a minor provocation.

Someone risked their life to save you.

He probably didn’t realize how deep that cut went. If he’d gone a bit further, it could’ve turned into a fatal blow.

She’d even planned to clap back with something of her own—but when she looked up and saw his dumbfounded, regretful face…

He was biting his lip, glancing at her for cues, looking so lost.

What’s the point in getting mad?

Her emotions had been too worn out to burn hot again.

Instead, as Claude busied himself with cleanup, she sank deeper into her chair.

— Wasn’t it thanks to them that you survived, Princess?

— If it weren’t for you, would your mother have ended up like that? She sacrificed herself for you!

The hauntingly familiar pattern made her murmur softly to herself.

“Then I guess… everyone here must resent me too.”

Claude, who had been about to toss the tablecloth aside, froze mid-motion.

Yeah… she’s definitely not okay.

That blank, sunken expression was back. Her voice was flat, her face calm—but something wasn’t right.

This is driving me crazy.

Just one careless comment and now he was wracked with guilt. Why did I say that? He wanted to bite off his own tongue.

“Were you going to throw that?”

Her voice snapped him back. She was nodding toward the crumpled cloth in his hand.

“…Of course not.”

He’d actually been planning to slam it down dramatically, but he pretended otherwise, casually waving it in his hand.

“You’re not very good at pretending.”

“…”

“I told you, I’m not mad. Relax.”

Who said I was tense? I’m not.

But somehow, his grip loosened, and the cloth fell from his hand.

Claude cleared his throat and picked up the thread of the conversation, determined to respond properly to what she’d said earlier.

Even if it was uncomfortable—he had to.

“Resentment… do you really believe the people regret sacrificing themselves for you?”

“See? There you go being blunt again.”

“…”

“I was just kidding.”

Damn it. His fist curled again.

Unable to say anything, he just bit his lip, while she tried—unsuccessfully—not to laugh.

With a hint of frustration, Claude finally said:

“Resentment implies blame. That because of you, things turned out this way—and that you should do something to fix it. It’s ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? When someone rushes into danger and saves someone, they might get hurt—or they might even die. That’s a risk they choose to take. If they didn’t want to, they shouldn’t have stepped up in the first place.”

And regret? Did she not understand how much the survivors cared about her?

Claude scoffed quietly.

She’d said yesterday that she didn’t know much—and it turned out to be true.

Now he fully understood why she’d asked about the situation here.

“And that’s not how it is.”

“What isn’t?”

“Those who stayed behind didn’t feel that way. If anything, they probably hoped the person they saved would live happily and safely. If someone died, they’d probably have thought the same—even from beyond the grave.”

And how did he know?

Because he saw it. He heard it.

Despite all the resentment and bitterness the remaining people in this land held, not one of them ever spoke ill of the princess.

The ones shouting outside?

They weren’t from Icaris.

Not a single one of them.