Chapter 57
The knight Eloise was matched against was someone I was familiar with.
He’s the one who used to sneak me cat treats every now and then.
The knight picked up a wooden sword and stepped into the center of the training ground.
His posture was straight and composed—perfectly disciplined.
“It’s an honor to spar with you, Lady Monclaire.”
“The pleasure’s mine, Sir Chris.”
Their gazes met in midair.
It only took a few seconds to gauge each other’s energy.
The moment Eloise’s right foot moved forward, the knight shifted into a defensive stance.
Clack!
The wooden swords collided with a solid, heavy sound.
She looked delicate, but Eloise didn’t yield at all in strength.
As she moved, the hem of her mint-colored dress fluttered.
Her graceful, measured movements resembled a sword dance.
For someone who had supposedly laid down her sword long ago, she exchanged quite a number of strikes with a royal palace knight.
“Your body seems to have stiffened a little.”
“Indeed. Even I can tell I’ve grown dull.”
To my eyes, Eloise didn’t seem at all inferior to the knight—even fighting in a dress.
But apparently, Marquis Grave and Marcel saw something different.
The Empress, however, watched Eloise’s bout with great satisfaction.
“As expected of Katrin’s daughter.”
“Indeed. The Duchess of Monclaire herself was well-versed in swordsmanship.”
Lady Katrin truly seemed to be good at everything.
Eloise clearly took after the duchess in every way.
While I was briefly distracted by the Empress, Eloise began pressing her opponent hard.
“It seems Eloise has finally loosened up.”
“She still lacks the lightness she once had, though. Her swings have become a bit rough.”
The knight was barely managing to defend himself against the rain of consecutive attacks.
Then, in a split second, Eloise saw an opening and went straight for it.
The tip of her sword stopped right at the knight’s neck.
“I concede. I’ve learned something today, Lady Monclaire.”
“And I from you, Sir.”
Eloise gave her sword a light twirl to shake it off, then went to sheath it—only to pause when she realized there was no scabbard.
“Old habits die hard, don’t they?”
“Master, I’ve shown you an ungraceful side.”
“Not at all. I’m simply pleased to see your blade is still as sharp as ever.”
Eloise’s expression remained neutral, but the corners of her lips lifted ever so slightly at the Marquis’s praise.
She awkwardly adjusted her grip and went to return the wooden sword to its place.
“Marquis Grave, would you say Eloise’s skills remain the same?”
“It’s hard to tell from a single match. Ah, perhaps His Highness the Prince would like to test her himself?”
“How could Lady Monclaire spar with me…”
“Please, Your Highness—teach me a thing or two.”
It seemed Eloise had been quite offended earlier when Marcel expressed concern for her.
As she raised her sword, Marcel let out a small sigh and ran a hand through his hair.
“If you get hurt, don’t blame me.”
“Don’t hold back.”
“You already have the disadvantage of wearing a dress, so I’ll set one for myself as well.”
“Your Highness isn’t wearing training clothes either.”
“Still, they’re easier to move in than a dress.”
Marcel grabbed a towel that the knights used to wipe sweat.
Walking to the center of the arena, he wrapped it tightly over his eyes.
“Let’s begin.”
“Really… if you get hurt, don’t blame me.”
“Don’t go easy. I don’t plan to lose.”
A different kind of tension filled the training ground.
While I watched the two with bated breath, Étienne approached the Empress.
“Your Majesty, it’s time for the Crown Prince’s knights to begin their training.”
“Oh my, is it that late already?”
“…You’re rather mischievous, Your Majesty.”
“Étienne, shouldn’t Arno be informed as well?”
I blinked, not understanding what she meant, looking between the Empress and Étienne.
The Empress looked down at me with gentle eyes.
“Lisette, when you clutch something too tightly, you forget whether it’s a stone… or a jewel.”
Her words only confused me more. Smiling meaningfully, the Empress turned her gaze toward the entrance of the training hall.
A group of knights entered, led by none other than the Crown Prince.
“Peace upon Calenia. I didn’t expect to see you here, Mother.”
“Arno, welcome. Eloise’s lesson will be over shortly, so please wait a little, will you?”
The Crown Prince nodded lightly, his icy blue eyes turning toward me.
“Ah, the Star of Calenia. I greet you, Your Highness.”
There. I’ve greeted you, satisfied?
His brows lifted briefly before lowering again.
I curtsied primly, then turned my attention back to Eloise and Marcel.
As expected of the Empire’s best swordsman, Marcel moved freely even with his eyes covered.
Eloise, of course, wasn’t backing down.
“Your Highness, I told you not to hold back.”
“You overestimate me, my lady. You’ve no idea how difficult this is when I can’t see a thing.”
For every three exchanges she lost, Eloise managed to land one counterattack.
But soon, I could see she was tiring—her stance growing unsteady, openings appearing.
Finally, her foot caught, and her balance gave way backward.
“Ah—”
“Elly!”
Somehow understanding instantly, Marcel reached out and caught her by the waist.
Their faces were so close their lips might touch.
The atmosphere turned almost ticklishly charged—until the Crown Prince abruptly stepped into the training ground.
“Marcel wins.”
“Oh, brother—you’re here.”
Marcel spoke casually as he helped Eloise up and untied the cloth from his eyes.
Eloise, in contrast, quickly pulled away from him, fixed her disheveled clothes, and gave a flawless curtsy.
“I greet the Star of Calenia.”
“Your form wasn’t bad, Lady. Since you can’t use magic, I suppose this sort of thing suits you.”
That bastard was running his mouth again.
Belittling swordsmanship was no different from mocking Marcel, dismissing the Empress’s arranged lesson—and insulting Eloise.
“Both swordsmanship and magic are vital to the Empire. That’s why even noble ladies learn the sword as part of their education. Ah, but Lady Ronsblower likely never learned it in her youth. I’ll be sure to introduce you to an excellent teacher.”
As the sharp exchange escalated, the Empress rose from her seat to mediate.
“Arno, before we take any more of your knights’ time, we should be going. Eloise, your lovely dress is covered in dirt. Let’s have you change first, then join me for tea.”
At the Empress’s summons, Eloise gave another graceful bow and walked past the Crown Prince.
Before she reached us, I waved a paw toward Étienne.
“What?”
“Tomorrow night. Don’t forget, okay? You promised.”
“Sigh… fine. I’ll be there.”
After securing his firm promise, I nestled into Eloise’s arms as we left the training grounds.
As expected, after meeting the Crown Prince, Eloise didn’t look happy at all.
***
The original novel had lied.
The male lead wasn’t a gentle bastard—he was just a bastard.
And the second male lead didn’t love the heroine—he loved the villainess.
Even the line “The Count’s house of Ronsblower was humble but warm” was a blatant lie.
What part of this looks humble to you?
Cradled in Étienne’s arms, I gazed up at the Count’s mansion.
Though smaller than a ducal estate, its decorations were lavish and extravagant.
The heroine’s definition of humble must have been distorted by the Crown Prince.
“So… no plan again today?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I actually have one.”
Étienne looked down at me, eyes slightly widening.
Even if I was usually a reckless, unplanned cat, did he really have to look that surprised?
“I’m going to find proof that the Crown Prince is trying to restore the imperial harem system. When I eavesdropped before, Count Ronsblower mentioned he was recruiting allies.”
“Now that’s what I call a real plan.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I tightened my front paw’s grip around his arm as I asked.
His golden eyes curved gently as he smiled.
“I mean it’s well thought out.”
…What? Why was he smiling at me like that?
Étienne leapt over the Count’s wall and hid us in the shadows.
A few knights were patrolling, but the security wasn’t particularly strict.
“Do your plans include a location to investigate?”
“You—honestly.”
“Ow! Don’t scratch!”
I sheathed my claws again and pointed with my paw.
“The office. First floor, far right room.”
“How do you know that?”
Because it was written in the original story.
