Prologue
“Veronica.”
The day before yesterday.
“Hey.”
Yesterday.
“Veronica, you in there?”
Today.
“…Are you asleep?”
Even now.
Veronica slowly set down the rattle in her hand, furrowing her right eyebrow as she sharply turned toward the door.
The third time just today.
‘Here he is again?’
Annoying. But he’s here, so what else could she do?
Letting out a small sigh, Veronica pulled the hand mirror she had hidden tightly under her pillow, holding it in both hands as she gazed at it.
Cuteness. Charm. Plump cheeks. Bright, sparkling eyes. A pretty expression.
The very image of a younger sister armed with irresistible adorableness.
‘Good. Still no sign of tiredness or irritation.’
The radiant smile she gave herself in the mirror was, even to her own eyes, impossibly cute.
Satisfied, Veronica nodded, tucked the mirror back under her pillow, and lay flat on her back. Then, loud enough to be heard through the door, she enunciated clearly:
“I’m not sleeping!”
“Okay.”
With that short reply, the heavy bedroom door opened, as if it had been waiting for her signal.
She turned her head slightly, and there he was—as expected—her brother, Sion.
The boy, who had just turned eight, was carrying an armful of books so large they nearly hid his face. He dropped them with a thump onto the tea table beside the cradle and turned to her.
“Merry said to read these to you.”
‘…Yeah, right.’
Veronica gave him a look of disbelief that he couldn’t see.
Merry, who couldn’t read yet and had no interest in books, would never give Veronica books to read.
And even if she had, there’s no way Sion would obediently do something just because a maid—unless it was the emperor—told him to.
Most of all, who would give books this difficult to a baby only a few months old?
‘I’d bet tomorrow’s milk on the fact that my brother is lying.’
“You’re such a bother. I’m busy…”
Sion said this, but his expression showed he wasn’t bothered in the slightest as he sat in the rocking chair beside the cradle and picked up one book.
[Political History of the Sloran Empire]
‘Again, only the ones he likes.’
Veronica watched with a sulky expression as Sion cleared his throat and opened the first page.
In truth, Sion just wanted to see Veronica. But too proud to admit it, he used Merry as an excuse.
And since he also wanted to read, out of all the fairy tales he could have brought, he deliberately chose a history book he liked.
‘Your thoughts are written all over your face.’
Sion always acted on his own terms. Born with the blood of the emperor—where magic meant wealth, status, and honor—he was the crown prince of the Sloran Empire, destined for the top.
“Veronica.”
“Uh-huh?”
“I’ll leave the rest here, so read them if you want.”
“…Okay!”
“If you don’t, just throw them away.”
He spoke as if he didn’t care, but Veronica quickly shook her head.
“No, I’ll read them!”
“…Suit yourself.”
‘Yeah, I’m definitely not throwing them away.’
Smiling reluctantly, Veronica crawled toward him.
If you don’t like it, throw it away—that was something Sion always said. And just as often, he’d later pretend not to notice when she gave the books to Merry to return to the library.
‘As if I wouldn’t notice.’
Turning from Sion, already engrossed in his book, she looked back into her mirror at the baby sitting there.
Clear blue eyes. Shining blonde hair. Cute, yes—but by no means an ordinary baby. Herself, Veronica.
She suddenly recalled the moment she first opened her eyes.
‘What… is this?’
That was her first thought.
Perhaps “flustered” was the right way to put it.
She had woken as a baby—and strangely enough, memories of this world and the events to come were vivid in her mind, as if she had just experienced them.
Another strange thing: even though her body couldn’t speak a word or even roll over properly, her mind was sharp and mature.
And in the midst of her confusion, the first person she saw—
“So this is it? This is a baby?”
The crown prince—supremely self-centered, perhaps with a few personality flaws, but born of the royal bloodline, a prodigy in magic, and the pride of the imperial family, destined to be emperor.
“If it weren’t for you, if only you didn’t exist…”
The same older brother who, out of inferiority toward his sister—who had inherited both the emperor’s and the high priest’s blood—would one day crush her before she could bloom.
A villainous brother. Sion.
For some reason, though, he was being strangely kind now.
“Veronica, I’m asking if you’re listening.”
“Uh-huh.”
“…Do you like my voice?”
Veronica gave him her cutest smile so as not to annoy him.
“It’s fun. Your voice is really nice.”
“……”
‘Huh? Was that wrong?’
“……”
Was he displeased with her reaction?
As he stayed silent, Veronica awkwardly stood, tapped a page of the book with her tiny hand, and said:
“This part is fun. Read it again.”
“…Here, eat this.”
Out of nowhere, Sion handed her a piece of bread from his pocket.
Cold and stale from being carried around—and giving it to a baby?
‘Do I look like a pigeon to you?’
“Wow, woooow…”
But Veronica, hiding her true feelings, accepted it with a bright smile. She ignored the hard crumbs falling everywhere and lifted it to her lips.
“Tastes good!”
“Good. Then eat while I read.”
And so, in his unnecessarily pleasant voice, he continued reading.
‘I’ll just pretend to eat.’
Wearing a smile close to a grimace, Veronica moved her lips.
She had no choice. Her magical power would peak at age five. Until then, Sion would be far stronger. The only way to survive was to live quietly as the cute, harmless little sister—fitting for a princess, but never outshining him.
That was the motto she’d set for herself to stay alive.
Then—
Knock knock.
Both turned toward the sound. The hinges creaked, the door opened—and Sion’s expression shifted dramatically.
“Your Highness, Prince—Princess. Might I—”
“Get out.”
Bang!
Something flew across the room with a loud noise.
A book hit the floor, its cover dented and splintered from impact with the door.
Sion rose and walked toward the terrified servant without looking at him.
“Why are you standing there?”
“…Pardon?”
“Why are you just standing there?”
“Ah—ah!”
The servant hurried to clean the mess on the floor, but Sion sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead, then glared.
“What are you doing?”
“…Your Highness?”
“Did I tell you to clean that? Why are you doing something I didn’t order?”
“You—you asked why I was just standing—”
“Do I have to spell out every little thing?”
“Th-then…”
‘The eyes! Look at the eyes!’
Veronica waved at the servant, then tapped under her own eyes, trying to signal him.
But the clueless man just bowed.
Sion grabbed his collar and yanked him forward.
“When I call you, what are you supposed to do? Stand there like an idiot, daring to look down on me?”
“I—I apologize—”
“And why did you barge in without permission after knocking?”
“The—the chief maid—”
“Still making excuses.”
Sion shoved him away.
“The palace doesn’t need rude servants like you.”
“Your Highness! I’ve committed a grave sin!”
“Oh?”
The servant collapsed to his knees, but Sion stood tall, one leg crossed. Then, after a moment, he stepped forward, his hand glowing with a cold, twisted blue light as he pressed it to the servant’s neck.
“If I order it… would you really die?”
“A-ah…”
Thud.
The servant collapsed backward, propping himself on his arms. Sion took another step toward him.
Veronica swallowed hard.
‘This… might be dangerous.’
Sion hadn’t yet become cruel and twisted—not entirely. He was still just a strict prince. But if this incident pushed him toward that darker path, it would be bad for her.
What should she do? After thinking it over, she grabbed the edge of the cradle and toddled toward him.
“B-brother!”
Sion stopped and turned to her.
Veronica put on her cutest smile, rubbing her belly.
“I—I’m hungry…”
“……”
“That man—he’s the one who gives me food…! The one who makes yummy milk…”
‘You get what I mean, right?’
She pointed to the servant with a grin.
Sion looked at him. Sure enough, a bottle—still warm—was lying on the floor nearby.
He looked away.
“Get out.”
“…Pardon?”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
Sion nudged the bottle with his foot.
The servant finally realized and scrambled up.
“I’ll make a fresh one at once!”
He fled the room as if chased. Sion sighed and sat back down, opening another book. But after a few minutes, he closed it again, rubbing his forehead.
“…I wasn’t going to, you know.”
“…Huh?”
Veronica blinked. Sion hesitated, then spoke more softly:
“I wasn’t actually going to do anything. Just wanted to scare him so he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Don’t worry about it.”
She nodded. Sion’s expression eased, and he smirked faintly.
“Now I can’t focus anymore.”
“……”
“You too, right?”
His dark red eyes met hers. Sensing her chance, Veronica quickly agreed:
“Yeah!”
“Alright. Next time, I’ll read you something longer.”
‘No need, really.’
Silently, she offered him a respectful farewell in her heart.
When Sion finally left, Veronica thought back to the servant’s pale face. Only then did she flop onto her back in the cradle, staring up at the ceiling.
A princess worthy of her station, but never better than him.
“If I order it… would you really die?”
Talent in magic. A cruel streak to match.
Villainous brother, Sion. Every time she saw him, she remembered the madness in her memories—and felt a chill on her neck.
Their relationship was a tightrope where one mistake could mean death.
‘I can’t run, so I have no choice but to try…’
She looked down at her small, soft white fists.
Would she survive…?
