Chapter 4
“Stop reading all the time and exercise a bit, Oppa. You’re always coughing because you’re glued to your books.”
She had just become an adult, but to Planus, his younger sister still looked like a tiny ten-year-old kid.
…Well, a slightly strong one.
Five years older than Olive, Planus was like a dependable father and a warm friend to her.
Just like the legend that claimed the Chartres family descended from fairies, Planus was a handsome man with gentle features.
His signature look—long hair loosely braided and draped over one shoulder—had even sparked a long-hair trend among young noblemen at one point.
‘Thanks to that, the noble ladies had to wrinkle their noses at the sight of those long-haired boys with free-form features.’
On top of that, he was incredibly intelligent—some even called him the next Grand Chancellor.
He was as tall as an oak tree and must have taken all the good traits from their mother’s womb (except stamina, maybe).
“My cute little sister—what reason could you possibly have for seeking me out this early in the day?”
Planus gently patted Olive on the back and moved away. A soft smile bloomed on his face, like spring sunlight melting the winter frost.
“Do I need a reason to come find you?”
“Yeah, you usually do, Olive.”
Planus never let a comment slide without a response.
“So—uh… I was wondering if Prince Carlos will be attending your birthday banquet…”
Second Prince Carlos. A half-brother to the Third Prince Ludwig—they shared the same mother but had different fathers.
Carlos’ seductive and decadent looks made him the object of many noble ladies’ affections, and he was infamous for his many romantic entanglements.
“Don’t get the wrong idea, Oppa! I was just curious. It’s not like I care or anything!”
Olive playfully hit Planus on the shoulder with her soft little fists.
“Ugh,” Planus groaned, swaying dramatically to the side.
“He’s coming, but—cough—as your brother, let me give you some advice. Don’t fall for Prince Carlos. He’s a real mess.”
Whatever he remembered, Planus’ face twisted as he straightened up. He couldn’t help but worry that his gentle sister might get eaten alive by such a sly fox.
“W-Who said I like him? I was just wondering if he’d be there or not, that’s all!”
Olive flailed her hands and feet in embarrassment, her face turning red. Planus’ concern deepened.
“Olive, you should like kind and proper men. Like the three sons of Marquis Cobalt, for example.”
Planus praised the Marquis’ family, saying it wasn’t called the Emperor’s Sword for nothing.
“Eh, I’m not really into them.”
Olive, who would usually go with whatever everyone else chose—whether it was clothes or dessert—was oddly cold and sharp when it came to judging men.
“Why? They’re popular because they’re handsome. Okay, the second son’s got a temper, but the others are fine.”
“Looks aren’t everything, Oppa. They’re so textbook—boring. A man should not only be good-looking but also have a charm that touches the heart.”
Olive giggled shyly, sharing her ideal man theory. Planus let out a heavy sigh, looking troubled.
“…Olive. Don’t fall for bad boys. If you do, your whole life could be miserable. This brother of yours would be very sad if you ended up living like that.”
Bad boys. Misery.
Hearing those words stirred up a strange sense of unfairness in her chest—as if she had lived such a life before.
A flash of crimson like a setting sun passed through her mind, followed by the imperial crest. Anger welled up for no reason.
“Wh-What do you mean bad boys? That’s… That’s treason! Insulting the Imperial Family!”
Suddenly shouting about treason with a wounded expression, Olive stormed out of the room.
“According to Imperial Law, Article 145 Clause 4 and Article 76 Clause 1, her words don’t constitute treason,” Planus muttered matter-of-factly, pushing up his glasses and staring at the door his sister had exited through.
In the early evening, a violinist drew his bow. The graceful melody was soon joined by other instruments, filling the banquet hall with music.
Planus’ birthday banquet had begun.
The Marchioness of Chartres was determined to get her son, the heir of their household, married this time. She had planned the banquet with gritted teeth and high hopes.
‘I must win the Crown Princess’ favor this time!’
The Marchioness was ambitious—but unfortunately, Planus and the Crown Princess had absolutely no interest in each other.
While greeting guests at the entrance, the Marchioness spotted an imperial carriage in the distance and her eyes widened.
‘Could it be the Crown Princess? Inviting all the royals was the right move!’
The Chartres family, long the Grand Chancellors of the Empire, were known as its mind and right hand.
Any invitation from such a family would inevitably be honored by at least one member of the royal family…
“…Prince Carlos?”
The Marchioness let out a shrill gasp. The Crown Princess she had hoped for was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the Second Prince—who constantly monopolized her son’s time and ruined his marriage prospects—stepped out of the carriage.
“Ah, Marchioness of Chartres. Still as radiant as ever,” said Carlos, his decadent smile spreading as he kissed the back of her hand.
The Marchioness’ face flushed bright red.
She finally understood why Carlos had such a reputation. But before she could collect herself, she saw another figure step down from the carriage behind him and snapped back to her senses.
“P-Prince Ludwig?”
The elusive Ludwig, rarely seen except at major events, stood quietly behind Carlos.
She had sent him an invitation too, but she hadn’t expected him to actually come.
Now a grown man, Ludwig had shed his boyish looks and become a stunning young man—completely unworthy of the title “cursed prince.”
His perfectly cut red bob swayed like velvet curtains.
Judging by appearance alone, he seemed more like an angel than a cursed child.
But the Marchioness couldn’t welcome Ludwig.
‘His Majesty would never have approved this outing. How did he get here?’
In her heart, she wanted to send the cursed prince away immediately—but she didn’t dare say such a thing.
“Thank you for inviting me, Madam,” Ludwig said politely.
While she was frozen in hesitation, the Cobalt Marquess couple arrived and greeted her, snapping her attention back to her guests.
The two princes entered the banquet hall on the first floor.
As the birthday of the next likely Grand Chancellor, the banquet was full of high-profile guests.
The moment the two princes entered, the once-bustling atmosphere fell silent.
They walked toward the birthday boy, Planus. The crowd naturally parted to make way for them.
‘Where’s Olive?’
Ludwig trailed behind Carlos, casually scanning the room. She was standing beside Planus.
How many years had it been?
It had been so long since they had officially met face to face.
No longer the child she once was, Olive had grown into a striking young lady. She looked overwhelmingly beautiful to Ludwig.
When she smiled brightly, her teeth showing, his chest inexplicably ached. He rubbed his sternum with his hand.
She had no idea. The long years of longing he endured to become the Ludwig standing before her today.
‘I won’t make the same mistake again.’
In the previous timeline, Ludwig had hurt Olive deeply at this very banquet.
He could only feel fear from the sincere emotions she showed him.
Those moments when she revealed her true feelings had once terrified him—but now, they were what he longed for most.
In this new timeline, Ludwig had witnessed Olive’s radiant smile.
He had learned there was something far more beautiful than her ‘fear’—her ‘joy.’
‘If only…’
The only disappointment was this: Olive’s glittering eyes—like peridot—were fixed on Prince Carlos.
She blushed like a girl in love, and it made her look even lovelier. But knowing that expression was for another man made Ludwig’s anger flare uncontrollably.
“Lady Olive,” he called, teeth clenched.
Startled by the chilling tone, Olive turned and looked surprised.
“Oh, you!”
Then she smiled brightly.
“You’re the one from the maze garden years ago, right? It’s been so long!”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was bright and high-pitched like a lark’s. Ludwig found the cheerfulness in her voice so pleasant that he couldn’t help but smile.
Olive didn’t know Ludwig’s name or status.
But she remembered the beautiful boy who had saved her in the maze garden years ago.
‘How could I forget?’
The one with vivid red hair and eyes, the one who had kissed her hand like a knight—he was the first and the last to do so.
Besides, what woman could forget a face like his?
“Ahem, Olive. This is Prince Ludwig, the third prince. Show proper respect.”
Planus whispered awkwardly into her ear.
Startled, Olive belatedly bowed to Ludwig in formal greeting.
Ludwig graciously accepted her greeting—but only just.
“Well then, enjoy the evening, Your Highness.”
With a gentle smile, Olive quickly walked away from Ludwig.
Wait—what?
According to his calculations, they were supposed to talk more. Especially when he looked this good.
But Olive left him so easily and made a beeline for the dessert table.
‘Was I not handsome enough today?’
Ludwig stared blankly at her retreating figure, bewildered by his own thoughts.
When Olive reached the dessert table, beautifully lined with treats, and began helping herself—
“Olive, have you picked your debutante partner yet?”
It was Lady Lily of the Count of Conwell’s household, Olive’s closest friend.
“No, not yet. It’s still far off—why worry already?”
“You’ve got to start scouting early if you want to make your move!”
“I-I’m not really aiming for anyone in particular…”
