Chapter 18…
“Your Majesty…?”
“Oh my, Princess?”
“Now I’m the king.”
Ellie lifted her chin and clenched her fists tightly.
“I’ll take responsibility.”
Ellie knew what responsibility meant.
Until now, she had never been responsible for anything. But she could start learning now.
Princess Ellia had been driven from the throne precisely because she lacked that sense of duty. Responsibility was an incredibly important thing.
Recently, she had been so busy meeting all sorts of people that she couldn’t help but focus on dresses and adornments. But after hearing from Marquis Simon, she realized once again that there were things far more important than appearances.
“What should I start with?”
Ellie was overflowing with enthusiasm.
And the one who had told her this was Marquis Simon—surely, nothing bad could come from listening to him.
“Y-Your Majesty…!”
Marquis Simon was genuinely moved by Ellie’s spirited declaration.
All his life, he had endured comments like, ‘Do you even have emotions?’ or ‘You’ll get stabbed one day for talking like that.’
Those who spoke the truth were always hated.
But this tiny, earnest little princess had actually listened to his words with sincerity.
Loyalty flared up within him.
“I’m deeply moved that Your Majesty understands my heart. However, Madam Laval is also correct. I acted too hastily and failed to properly assess Your Majesty’s situation.”
“I told you I’m fine!”
Ellie pounded her chest and urged him on.
She was only wandering because no one was guiding her, but she had always desperately sought the path to becoming a great ruler.
She couldn’t end up like Princess Ellia—ruined from idleness and indulgence.
If she let Marquis Simon vanish, swept away by bad influences, she’d lose a precious opportunity.
“B-but…”
Already shrunk from all the scolding around him, Marquis Simon hesitated to speak further.
Sensing that he might flee, Ellie panicked.
She quickly stretched out both arms and grabbed his thick forearm.
You’re not escaping!
Marquis Simon jolted as if struck by a charging bull.
Thump.
That was the sound of his heart dropping.
“I’ll have my snacks with Marquis Simon!”
Ellie even proposed a bold private meeting.
“Let’s talk over snacks!”
Marquis Simon was so overwhelmed by affection and emotion that he nearly cried.
“It is the highest of honors!”
* * *
“So, what should I do first?”
At Ellie’s eagerness, Marquis Simon felt another rush of emotion.
“There’s no need to rush, Your Majesty. Step by step, one thing at a time…”
“But I want to become a great and admirable king right away!”
Ellie clenched her fists again.
In truth, Ellie had another reason beyond just survival—she wanted to become impressive and admired.
‘I’ll become as cool as Duke Bernd!’
Creating a mage corps was still a distant dream, but the royal knights were already so magnificent.
If she became like that, maybe Duke Bernd would call her amazing too.
‘And when I’m king, I can apologize to Cleus again—as a ruler this time.’
Then perhaps his frozen heart would thaw, even just a little.
Ellie had it all planned out.
Marquis Simon, unaware of these secret motivations, was moved to tears by her pure determination.
“To be this noble already… the future of Nerendis is bright indeed!”
“Uh… yeah.”
A small prick of guilt poked at her conscience.
“First, rather than meeting just anyone, you should see those related to the coronation—and the Minister of Justice.”
“The Ministry of Justice?”
“Yes. For Your Majesty to officially become king, there are legal procedures.”
“…Huh?”
It was clearly time for an explanation suited to her level.
Seeing Ellie’s completely uncomprehending expression, Marquis Simon rephrased.
“You could lose the throne.”
“What?!”
His simplified explanation worked perfectly.
Ellie jumped to her feet in shock.
“What do you mean?! How dare they! Are you talking about treason?!”
Madam Laval, who had been listening beside her, flared up as well.
“Ah—n-no, not quite that far…”
Trying to simplify things, he had skipped too much.
Flustered by their intensity, Marquis Simon waved his hands.
“Then what do you mean! If our princess—His Majesty’s only heir—doesn’t take the throne, that’s treason!”
“She will ascend, of course. But if someone else ends up ruling in her place, isn’t that the same as having it stolen?”
“!”
Madam Laval, who had been fuming, fell silent.
That was, indeed, a very real possibility.
While the two adults quarreled, Ellie was recalling the story from the novel.
‘Princess Ellia didn’t know anything. Because she didn’t, she thought it was only natural to leave things to others.’
Thanks to that, her reign had been peaceful and pleasant.
Like in childhood, she received care from those around her, and whenever something needed doing, she relied on others.
Otherwise, she simply chose pretty dresses, basked in compliments, ate delicious food, and enjoyed her days.
Her brother, reading that part aloud, had sighed heavily.
‘You have to claim your own place. If you keep leaving it to others, one day they’ll take it from you.’
He had said it with understanding—after all, he was still young too—but his sighs had been unending.
‘This is it!’
Ellie realized this was the moment she had to seize her position herself.
“The throne is mine.”
She declared greedily—like a child coveting the strawberry on top of a cake. It was pure, blazing desire.
“Of course it is!”
Marquis Simon, too, caught the fire of enthusiasm.
“Naturally!”
Madam Laval’s eyes blazed just as fiercely.
At least these two would never try to take Princess Ellia’s place.
They could be trusted—well, not as much as her brother, but still.
“Then let’s ask to meet the Minister of Justice!”
Ellie leapt to her feet, brimming with excitement.
“Indeed!”
Once ignited, Marquis Simon was not one to hold back.
And Madam Laval was just as formidable.
“I’ll choose a dress suitable for an audience with a minister!”
Each of them made their own firm resolve.
* * *
“He’s sick?”
But the reply from the Minister of Justice was completely unexpected.
Ellie had thought he’d rush over the moment she summoned him, but instead, a letter arrived saying he was too ill to enter the palace for a while.
“That can’t be true. Just yesterday, he was drinking himself silly at Lady Welluna’s party—”
“Marquis Simon.”
Madam Laval stepped on his foot gently but firmly in warning.
Her voice was kind, but the weight behind it was anything but.
“…My apologies. I only meant that he seemed quite lively yesterday at the party, so it’s hard to believe he’s suddenly ill.”
Marquis Simon quickly softened his words.
But his teeth still ground at the minister’s obvious attempt to avoid them.
“Even if he was partying yesterday, he could be sick today.”
People could fall ill suddenly.
At Ellie’s innocent counterpoint, Marquis Simon sighed gloomily.
“I doubt that’s the case. It seems he’s stalling for time to make his own moves before the coronation.”
“Moves?”
“It means there are already bad people gathering, trying to take the throne from Your Majesty.”
So that’s what it meant?!
“Then we should hurry too!”
“Indeed… We must quickly find allies who will firmly support Your Majesty.”
From an adult’s perspective, this was a tangled power struggle—factions forming, deals being made behind the scenes, loyalties shifting based on benefit.
The throne was still unoccupied, though Ellie existed. The possibilities were wide open.
But to a child’s eyes, it was simple.
“Huh? Then before the bad people gather, we can just go to the Minister of Justice’s house ourselves.”
“…Ah…?”
Marquis Simon froze mid-thought.
“He’s sick, right? We can visit him and talk. Or… maybe he’s in the hospital?”
“Ha—ha ha! Brilliant! What a splendid idea!”
“?”
Marquis Simon burst out laughing at Ellie’s straightforward logic.
For a princess to visit a sick minister out of concern was a gesture of grace, not something to criticize.
If the minister was touched by her kindness and swayed to her side, all the better.
His adult cynicism had almost complicated things unnecessarily.
“That’s an excellent idea! And since surprises are always more effective, how about we don’t send word ahead—just show up unannounced?”
Marquis Simon took it a step further.
* * *
Holding a bouquet as big as her torso, Ellie stepped down from the carriage.
Standing before it, she looked up at a thin man with glasses who had come out to greet her.
“Are you the Minister of Justice?”
The man—Marundial, the Minister of Justice—hurriedly bowed his head.
“Huh—Y-yes! I never imagined Your Majesty would actually come here in person! Marundial, Minister of Justice, at your service.”
A cold sweat trickled down Marundial’s back as he bowed.
