Chapter 6: I Became the Youngest Princess of AsuraMasura (Part 5)
Thanks to my adult reasoning, I quickly picked up speech and habits—but so what? The road ahead was still dauntingly long.
My pronunciation was hopeless, and with a fragile infant’s body, it was hard to endure either hunger or a full bladder for very long.
The biggest issue was prejudice.
No matter how precocious I acted, no one took the words or behavior of a child not yet two years old seriously.
“Just wait until I grow up—then I’ll show them all.”
I’ll defeat everyone who dismissed me just because I was young—beat them all in a war of words with a voice as commanding as Grace’s!
“Come to think of it, it’s already been two months since Grace left.”
Grace, my eldest sister, had been appointed Crown Princess the year I was born, so she didn’t get to spend much time with me compared to my other siblings.
This time, she had to go away for a long military campaign.
“I heard this battle was brutal.”
“It’s rare for the central command to send reinforcements, right?”
“But once Her Highness arrived, the uprising was subdued quickly.”
No one explained the details to me, but from listening to the nurses and maids gossip while I was around, I could piece things together.
A large-scale battle had broken out unexpectedly, and she’d gone to reinforce the troops.
Grace’s holy power was said to rival even that of the most powerful emperors in history.
“Speaking of which, I wonder how that child is doing…?”
Letting Petisha handle my hair, I thought of the child I’d seen in my dreams.
The black-and-white-and-red child cradled in the arms of her knightly mother.
That child had appeared in my dreams often since that first one.
“It’s already been six months.”
Always in a military tent, sometimes with her mother, sometimes lying alone—those red eyes always rolling around quietly.
“Strangely, the child never cried.”
Whether swaddled in a blanket or restrained so she couldn’t crawl too far from her mother, she’d always stay in place, silently watching.
And the last time I saw her in a dream…
“It was the night before Grace left the capital.”
The scenery in the dream had changed drastically.
Soldiers moved in and out of the tent, and the knight—Dame Erina—lay on a cot alone.
She was bleeding from multiple stab wounds to her chest, abdomen, and thigh—clearly in critical condition.
Even in a dream, the sight made me nauseous.
“Where’s the baby? She shouldn’t be seeing this…”
The child lay atop a makeshift table that served as a desk.
“So people finally know about her existence.”
A soldier stood near the child as if to guard her, but no one else in the tent paid her any mind.
“Dame Erina, please hold on a little longer.”
“The remaining knights have departed from the capital.”
“The priests are on their way too.”
Several wounded soldiers, presumably her subordinates, surrounded her, speaking words of comfort. None of them were unscathed.
The more able-bodied ones tried to channel holy power into her, but the bleeding showed no signs of stopping.
From the dry tone in their voices, I could tell—they didn’t expect her to survive.
“Waaah…”
Amid the heavy air of despair, the child let out a quiet, sorrowful wail. Tears welled in her crimson eyes.
Yet no one turned to her.
The nearby soldier merely patted her absentmindedly without even looking.
I, as little Cecile, reached out a tiny hand toward her head to comfort her.
Of course, I couldn’t physically touch her or stroke her hair—but I wanted to soothe her somehow.
And I was convinced that what I saw was connected to the battlefield Grace had just returned from.
“I still don’t know why I keep dreaming about that child…”
But the night after that first dream, Grace had left for battle with a group of priests.
“Once Her Highness arrives, the chaos will be quelled.”
“High-ranking priests are coming too—just hold on a bit longer…”
Even the words exchanged between the soldiers in my dream eerily matched what I heard in real life.
“If Dame Erina died, what happened to the baby?”
I often found myself thinking of that child’s tear-filled red eyes.
✦
I met Grace again that night in our mother’s drawing room.
Despite the many casualties prior to her deployment, a small victory banquet had been held—perhaps because, in the end, a victory was still a victory.
“Those left behind still have to carry on somehow. I suppose it was a morale-boosting event…”
Due to royal protocol, I wasn’t allowed to attend official functions until I turned ten. So I only got to see Grace afterward.
“Cecile, do you remember your big sister?”
“Big Sis Kace! Long time no see!”
“Oh my, you’re speaking so well now. You really are clever, Cecile.”
Delighted by my outstretched arms, Grace picked me up easily.
Being the Crown Princess at just twenty years old, she wasn’t someone I saw often—but whenever I did, I was always struck by her presence.
With her sleek hair parted to one side, her strong nose and thick brows—features she inherited from Father—Grace exuded majesty.
This time, her eyes seemed even deeper, likely from all she’d endured.
I loved seeing this younger version of Grace, whose commanding presence had always captivated scenes in the original novel.
“It’s like watching a future ruler in the making—so exciting.”
She kissed my cheek before taking a seat across from me.
A modest meal was served for her and Mother at the tea table, while a small fruit platter was placed on the low table in front of me.
“Something’s troubling you, isn’t it?”
Mother’s voice was meaningful as she watched Grace, who was idly toying with her wine glass despite coming to see her youngest sibling.
“You quelled the chaos and achieved victory—so what worries you?”
“Too much innocent blood was shed.”
Grace didn’t hide the gloom she couldn’t show at the banquet.
Perhaps only in front of Mother could she speak so freely.
“No matter how prepared she was as heir, the battlefield must’ve been a shock.”
She had only come of age the previous year, after all. As I nibbled on melon, I observed her somber expression.
“If only I had made quicker decisions…”
“Grace…”
Mother spoke gently, full of pity.
“That wasn’t something you could decide alone. And remember—your father is still the supreme commander.”
“Even so, Father entrusted me with certain powers.”
“Thanks to your swift action with the priests, you avoided further casualties. It was just an unforeseen event. If it’s recorded in history so future generations can prepare, then it won’t be a tragedy in vain.”
Despite Mother’s reassurance, Grace couldn’t shake her grim expression.
“She’s always had a strong sense of responsibility.”
I didn’t know all the specifics of her battlefield experience.
But from what I’d overheard, it was clear that Grace’s involvement had been crucial to turning the tide.
“You’re destined to be the next ruler, and your siblings are each finding ways to serve your reign.”
Mother’s words reminded me of Roselia, who would become captain of the Holy Knights, and Rebecca, who would become a priest and later the Pope.
There was also Theodore, who was already leading charity work on behalf of the royal family.
“I should probably figure out what my role is too.”
With no holy power of my own, I’d need a strategy to keep royal favor. As I listened, I began forming a firm resolve.
“Just do your best. The position of emperor isn’t flawless. The royal family might be chosen by the gods, but that doesn’t make them gods. We’re still human, with human blood—like mine.”
Mother’s tone revealed not just the Empress or the Queen, but the woman Teresia beneath.
“I know you can only speak like this because you’re in front of me. You wouldn’t be able to show weakness to His Majesty.”
“…”
Her words weren’t so much a guess as a quiet plea.
I glanced at Grace again. Though still troubled, she seemed slightly lighter.
“I want to ask about that battlefield. Was there really a baby like the one in my dream…?”
But of course, Grace couldn’t possibly know what I was thinking.
She finally brought the wine to her lips, then mentioned something else on her mind.
“What I’m worried about next… is honoring the fallen.”
Hmm. This sounded like classified information.
Everyone—including Mother and my siblings—thought I didn’t understand anything, so they often discussed sensitive matters right in front of me.
“Are you worried there won’t be enough space in the Hall of Glory?”
“Because the Sea of No Return stayed open so long… we couldn’t recover most of the bodies.”
Grace’s eyes flicked toward me. She seemed unsure whether it was okay to say such things in front of a child.
“I did see that knight in my dream, but it felt more noble than gruesome…”
Grace must’ve noticed my thoughtful look because she gave a short laugh and shook her head—as if to say, no way she understood that.
“It’s not just that there were too many to bury in the Hall of Glory… We couldn’t even recover them all.”
“I see…”
“More died than survived. We could only retrieve the noble-born knights’ bodies for consecration at the Grand Temple.”
“Those who die in the Sea of No Return… must be sanctified, right?”
“Yes. That’s mandatory. Those who died early were already tainted by demonic energy, so we buried them there without consecration.”
The battlefield Grace had returned from—the “Sea of No Return”—was the setting of the novel’s climax.
“It was vaguely described as a chaotic, monster-ridden front line… But I guess it’s a common event in this world.”
From what I gathered, the highest honor for the fallen was to bring their bodies to the Grand Temple for consecration, cremation, and then interment in the Hall of Glory, a sort of mausoleum.
“So this time… commoner and lowborn soldiers were left behind…”
“Ah—!”
Caught up in the story, I let out a sudden cry without realizing it.
