Here’Liz shuffled the letters, placing them aside, then straightened the sleeve I’d pulled awkwardly. She paused and said:
“Just a moment, Your Highness—I’ll give these to the attendant.”
“Thanks, Liz. Could you bring me something sweet when you return?”
“Ugh… teeth might rot if you keep eating sweets!”
“I’ll brush well. Three times a day, within three minutes after meals, for three minutes. Thrice three!”
“Just yesterday you ran from brushing—right? Promise?”
“I swear. I’ll brush well.”
…Am I really doing this at a palace? At thirty‑five years old across two lifetimes, I’d have had kids if I’d married early.
Still, at least I’m able to pave flower-strewn paths for my favorite. That’s something to be grateful for.
Liz sent the letters to the Märchen household and returned with opera cake and macarons.
“Delicious! Liz, have some too!”
Liz accepted a macaron and spoke quietly.
“Oh! Your Highness, about the matter you asked…”
“Yes? Adelaide? Didn’t find her?”
My tone turned serious—but Liz shook her head.
“I received word: she’s been found. She’s likely making her way to the palace even now.”
“Really? That’s wonderful. I almost fainted at first.”
That was close.
After a relieved breath, Liz continued:
“But how do you plan to explain she’s the Lewendiff Marquis’s daughter? And how you discovered her?”
Good point.
Though Liz trusts me, the Marquis would never accept hearing the princess just “found” his lost daughter. He might accuse the imperial family of orchestrating her disappearance.
I simply smiled dumbly.
“I’ll be vague. Mention I wanted a new playmate to mark turning seven, and that Liz stumbled upon her during her holiday. Make it casual.”
“Shall I say that?
“But don’t make her–or others—too convinced. I’ve truly changed.”
“I know, Your Highness. But others don’t yet. You’re wise—truly. Even when you half-finish, it’s still top notch.”
What did she say? I just laughed. Liz is ridiculously good at diplomacy.
“In any case, if we get the reward—split it half and half.”
“Deal.”
Everything’s going according to plan.
Killian—wait for me! Your curse will be broken not by me, but by Adelaide, the one I bring!
Returning Adelaide safely to the Lewendiff Marquis and his wife was easier than expected.
They recognized her immediately; parentage confirmation took minutes. I was richly rewarded—and received their pledge of loyalty to me.
“She’ll never forget your kindness, Your Highness.”
“It’s fine. I only wanted a playmate. It was luck–we just met by chance. Let’s leave it at that.”
“You even used a proverb! Your Highness, you’re amazing. I’ve never heard such a metaphor in my life!”
Marquis Lewendiff had the reputation of a stern warrior—but evidently also a dramatic flair.
“…Anyway.”
I couldn’t say it was a South Korean proverb, of course.
“Ah well, in any case!”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“When Adelaide’s in good condition, bring her here. She could become your baedong.”
“An honor, indeed.”
“Take good care of her, okay? And don’t bring her to the temple—ever.”
I muttered inwardly: in the original story, Adelaide goes to the temple to survive—but is then exploited of her sacred power and turns her hair white in despair. Later, she flees, becomes a mercenary, and meets Killian amidst war. But we don’t need that this time—I know the story! Fwahaha! All that matters is bringing them together.
Pleased with our success, I made a show of yawning.
“Time for my nap.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
I gracefully rose from the sofa in the audience chamber and waved kindly to Marquis Lewendiff.
Mission complete. Time to relax.
…Life at seven sure is tiring.
I intended to laze away like a plush sloth, munching almond chocolate as a pampered, unemployed noble… but fate had other plans.
Killian wrote again—this time requesting audience in the morning.
“Why today? Why this morning?!”
“But he’s your baedong.” Liz brushed my hair and smiled.
“I thought baedong meets happened once a week… not daily?”
“There’s no rule. Strictly, a friend meets often. The more you meet, the closer you become.”
“That’s true, but Adelaide’s still recovering—I wanted us to meet together.”
I tried to avoid meeting him alone. It isn’t that I dislike seeing him—far from it. Killian is infinitely lovely. And palace is safer than the ducal household. I love the original story too—supporting the protagonists. But he wouldn’t know.
Calm as ever, Liz braided my hair skillfully.
“Would Lord Killian like meeting with Miss Lewendiff too? She seems shy.”
“He’ll warm up, I’m sure.”
“Hmm… yes, you’re right.”
“From next time onward, absolutely—Adelaide and I will meet him together.”
But for today—enjoy it.
My beautiful trans-migrator life with my favorite begins anew.
Dressed and ready, I made my way to the sitting room where Killian waited.
“Killian.”
“Your Highness.”
In his sky-blue sailor shirt and big bow tie, navy shorts with suspenders, and knee-high white stockings—today’s Killian was absolutely perfect.
Wait—why do I feel something flowing?
“Your Highness! You’re bleeding…!”
So even seven-year-olds get nosebleeds when excited, huh.
Marveling at the human body even after two lifetimes, I used the handkerchief Killian offered to stop the blood.
“Thank you, Killian.”
“Princess… Are you unwell? Did I come at the wrong time?”
“No, no. I’m perfectly fine.”
I can’t tell him it’s because I saw him in person and fainted—literally.
Once the bleeding slowed, Liz gently placed cotton into my nostril, and I offered some sweets to Killian.
“So, why did you come today?”
“You… invited me… in your letter.”
“Ah, so you came immediately?”
“Not immediately! I had breakfast first. Hehe.”
He’s a bit slow on the uptake—but that doesn’t matter.
Because charm, charisma, and handsome face? Overflowing.
“Then, what things would you like to do today?”
“I’m good with anything—as long as it’s with Your Highness.”
“How about visiting the royal training grounds? The Royal Knights are practicing?”
Since we’re childhood friends now, I decided every meeting from now on must serve as a stepping stone toward Killian’s happy ending.
The best, most optimal infrastructure.
First step: get him an excellent sword master.
In the original, Killian becomes a Sword Master at age 13, six years from now—the strongest in the realm. He could have reached it earlier, but plagued by Markus’ choice of an inferior first teacher, it took longer. Watching that abusive training made me wince.
My plan: before Duke Märchen could set up another terrible instructor, show Killian to the Captain of the Royal Order of Knights—Sir Briven. A sword-genius like Killian would inspire him to become his teacher instantly.
“Do you like swordsmanship, Your Highness?”
“Me? Love it!”
Killian’s eyes gleamed—maybe he understood something important.
Let this be the start of something beautiful.
