After Killian returned, I took time for serious introspection.
What did I do wrong? Or rather, what did I do right? How did Killian so willingly agree to become my azalea guard (baedong)? All I wanted was to protect him from afar, using my influence to pave a flower-strewn path quietly.
Father the Emperor suggested I could keep him on call until I grew bored and then send him away—but I couldn’t. If I got too close, his curse might awaken. Though still dormant now, that curse erupts under emotional extremes or severe stress.
If ever it unleashed because of me—then not just I, but the entire empire would fall.
The route to changing the original ending will be long, brutal, and chaotic. I need a way to coexist with him without straining him.
I need a plan.
I tapped my foot thoughtfully. Being near my favorite is wonderful—but I can’t risk his life.
I didn’t yet have enough proof to oppose Duke Märchen—the villain of the original novel—and I wasn’t prepared. But doing nothing wasn’t an option. As I munched on Liz’s almonds in chocolate, one bright idea struck.
Find Adelaide.
In the original story, Killian meets Adelaide only after going to war. But since that meeting is inevitable, why not meet her now? Let them awkwardly misunderstand at first, but building a childhood bond feels so much better.
I could be the love bridge. From friends to lovers—it’s glorious. Growing up together might mean I can help break—or even prevent—his curse. This is a shortcut to the happy ending.
Perfect!
Luckily, I know where Adelaide is: the orphanage in Kaiar, a small northern village near the capital. She’s the lost daughter of Marquis Lewendiff, the child they say in secret—all wrapped in a rag-to-riches mystery.
I didn’t waste a moment—I summoned Liz right away.
“Liz! I need a favor,” I said.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“There’s someone I need to find.”
“Someone… who this time?”
Not to scare! I glared at her. Liz giggled.
“Ah—you said you changed.”
“Yes. So—you find her.”
“You know where?”
I nodded. “Yes. She’s at the orphanage in Kaiar. Adelaide Lewendiff lives there, her parents lost when she was a baby.”
Liz took two steps back, stunned.
“Who… are you?”
“Liz… are you serious?!”
She flinched, almost shouting. I raised a playful eyebrow.
“Relax. Trust me.”
“You’re really the Princess?”
“Yes, and I heard you like Sir Briven.”
Liz gasped, remembering what I’d overheard once.
“So you’re really the Princess?”
“Yes. Now find Adelaide, and we’ll split the reward Duke offers.”
“Princess! How do you even know about that?”
“Don’t ask—just do it. Yes or no?”
“Yes… yes. Ugh. What is happening?”
Her attitude was existential despair—and I totally got it: I couldn’t explain I’m a transmigrator from another dimension, and the original Princess is a villainess doomed to death. Thankfully I still have control. Just trust me, Liz!
I nudged her.
“Hurry! Go now. Bring knights, find Sir Briven. I’ll stay locked in my chamber.”
Liz pursed her lips but promised to gather knights. As she left, I opened the letters Killian had sent.
Several in just a few days! This one seemed to be the first.
His handwriting was as clean and noble as his face, with my name so beautifully written.
“Handwriting handsome too, huh?”
I’ll save these carefully.
As I opened the letter, the scent of strawberry shortcake—a sweet, cool fragrance that reminded me of him—wafted out.
**[To Princess Celestia, the brightest star of the Empire:
Your Highness, I hope you are well.
This is Killian Märchen of the Märchen house. The sun has burned fiercely since morning—it seems summer will soon arrive. Please take care in the heat.
By the way:
The strawberry shortcake you arranged was absolutely delicious. Thank you again! It would have tasted even better shared with you. I wonder—what dessert does Your Highness prefer? I’ve found myself curious.
[…]
As one engaged, I thought it proper to write so often.
I await your reply.
Until we meet again, may you stay well.
Your fiancé,
Killian Märchen]**
The other letters echoed with curiosity and hope to spend time together.
I felt happy—but also confused. My body is seven, but not my mind. How did his resentment flip to this sweetness after just one meeting? The letters left me more puzzled.
Did he really change that much? Was it the cake? Or was…
Aha! I haven’t done too many bad things yet!
The original Celestia wasn’t always cruel—though obsessed with Killian, she wasn’t evil in her youth. Only after he returned from war with Adelaide did jealousy consume her.
And come to think of it—Celestia was the first to notice Adelaide’s disguise.
I’m seven—and that’s a huge blessing.
If so… being his baedong is okay.
Engagement? No. But as companion, I can help connect him and Adelaide. Frequent palace calls mean Duke Märchen won’t dare harm me while I am often visible in the court. He won’t want rumors of harming his ward.
I could be my favorite’s childhood friend!
Best benefit in any world! Yay!
