Chapter 53

“Ha…”

He couldn’t believe he was about to drink something like this—but it felt as though the bottle itself had the words “Drink me!” written on it.

Unable to resist the temptation, Esadien poured the clear liquid into his mouth.

Of course, he completely ignored the old woman’s warning:

“But remember—if you drink more than one drop, there will be side effects.”

‘What could be worse than being abandoned by Minuelle?’ 

That thought alone had made him throw back the entire bottle in one go.

He never imagined this would be the side effect.

Now, at this moment—this Prince, driven mad by lost love, found himself thinking of Minuelle once again.

‘If I look like this… she won’t reject me.’  

He had meant it when he said he didn’t care how much it hurt, as long as he could stay by her side.  

So even in the form of a beast—he would find her.

Esadien sprang to his feet.  

Not a single thought crossed his mind about breaking this curse—or “side effect”—first.

But the path to the Karnian ducal estate, which he thought he could reach with his eyes closed, turned out to be far more difficult than expected.

First problem: escaping the Imperial Palace.

Even when he was human, the walls had been tall. As a beast now? Impossible to even describe.

He wandered along the perimeter wall for a long time before he spotted a dog-sized hole in the base of the wall.

‘Fortune smiles on drunks and madmen, huh…’

“Huff…”

He had barely set a single paw outside the palace, but he was already exhausted.  

His stomach was gnawing with hunger, and the ache made him grimace—but all he could think about was getting to Minuelle, even one second faster.

‘This way… must be toward the north gate of the capital.’

Esadien gauged his direction and sprinted forward with all his strength.

But in the shadows, several glinting eyes watched him silently.

* * *

Esadien Roquate, the Third Prince, had vanished!

It was an intriguing piece of news—but for Lapheche, just keeping her head above water amid the rapidly changing tides was exhausting enough.

She had thought she’d landed an easy mark in Viscount Celeste, but he turned out to be neither a pushover nor a decent man.

Once Lapheche began frequenting the palace as a royal attendant, he ordered her to arrange an opportunity to connect with the Crown Princess. As it turned out, the poisoning incident had been his doing all along.

“Next time you have tea with the Prince, slip this into his cup.”  

“……”  

“Don’t worry. It’ll only cause mild stomach pain.”  

“But if it’s that harmless, then why—”  

“You need only do as you’re told.”

At that moment, the friendly face she thought she knew disappeared completely.  

His eyes were cold and commanding, and Lapheche—who was known for cherishing her own safety above all—reluctantly obeyed.

To her, the Viscount was nothing but a conman who orchestrated her self-destruction.

She clenched her teeth in frustration.  

“You promised to send me to the eastern villa after the coming-of-age ceremony, and then you go off and die?”

She’d hoped things would get easier now that the man who manipulated her was gone—but instead, his sons seemed dead set on devouring her whole.

“How many dresses and shoes do you need each month? You want to be sent to the villa? With whose money? Sell your clothes and get out.”  

—One was a cheapskate.

“I still remember you laughing when Father humiliated me.”  

—Another was a petty grudge-holder.

“Little sister, if you don’t have a lover, why don’t you marry your big brother? Just kidding~”  

—And the last was a revolting pervert.

“I’ve got to meet the archmage and get the hell out of this house.”

But even that fell through.

“I already have a disciple, you see.”

The title of “the archmage’s disciple,” which Lapheche had believed to be rightfully hers, had already been claimed—by someone supported by Minuelle.

Lapheche felt as if the whole world had been bricked up with walls inscribed with Minuelle Karnian.

Esadien, Theodore, even the Emperor and the Crown Prince—they were all falling for Minuelle.  

Now, even the coveted title of the archmage’s first disciple had been handed over to one of her people.

‘How? What kind of sorcery is that wretched girl using?!’

Still, there was one small silver lining to Esadien’s disappearance: public sympathy.

“She was just a pawn in the Prince and Lady Karnian’s lover’s quarrel. Poor thing.”  

“Didn’t they break off the engagement?”  

“Apparently the Prince never signed the annulment papers.”

It hurt Lapheche’s pride, but if pity improved her reputation even a little, she’d take it.

But it didn’t last long.

Many of the noblewomen, including Marchioness Deone and the younger debutantes of the social scene, never liked Lapheche to begin with.

The real blow, though, came with the return of the Second Prince—Austin Roquate—who had stepped foot in the empire for the first time in years.

The tragic prince was raised in a foreign land after being shunned by his father from childhood—now a diplomat representing the Preseria Empire.

“Despite it all, he’s grown into such a remarkable man. Isn’t it amazing?”

Those who didn’t know better sang his praises.  

But anyone who had even the slightest inkling of what kind of monster he really was could only smile bitterly.

The problem was—most people didn’t know better.

“Right! There is another Prince!”

Lapheche was one of the oblivious ones.

Rumor has it the Second Prince met with no one, which meant… there was still hope for her.

“This is the kind of man you offer a contract marriage to, right?”

Every contract marriage couple Lapheche had seen ended up happy.

Since she didn’t know what kind of man Austin was, maintaining distance via contract seemed like a smart move.

But having a shot didn’t mean she could meet him.

Every banquet Austin attended was packed, and Lapheche always had to turn away after catching only the faintest glimpse of him in the crowd.

“When the hell am I supposed to get my chance? Are we going to go bankrupt waiting?”  

“You rely too much on your looks, you know.”

“Our youngest, if all this fails, want to become your big brother’s second wife? Just kidding~”

Every time, Lapheche had to bear the brunt of abuse from her so-called “brothers” with whom she didn’t share a single drop of blood.

Days like that repeated endlessly.

Then one day, after seeing the Second Prince once again surrounded by people, Lapheche turned away and entered the terrace alone.

“What kind of wealth and glory am I even chasing, living like this?”

She was sick of banquets, sick of “Cotton Swab-stin” (her nickname for Austin). Lapheche leaned against the railing with a sigh, already dreading the verbal beatings from her brothers she’d face again tomorrow.

Before her stretched the distant lights shimmering beyond the darkness; behind her, the music from the ballroom pulsed on.

The terrace, one step removed from the noisy party, wrapped her in an oddly serene mood. The melancholy overwhelmed her, and tears began to flow on their own.

“I just… I just wanted to live well too.”

When people get transported into romance novels, don’t they usually live happy, cushy lives? Why was she the only exception—bounced around, used, and insulted? Lapheche didn’t know.

The world used to be a better place. She wanted to go back.

As her sobs grew more pitiful, a handkerchief was silently offered to her.

“I’ve felt the same. Life really is a complicated thing, isn’t it?”

She didn’t even know when the person had appeared beside her. Startled, she flinched and turned her head—only to see someone completely unexpected.

“Wha—huh? Y-Your—hic—Highness?! Hic!”

It was Cotton Swab—no, Prince Austin—standing right in front of her. Lapheche was so shocked she started hiccupping. Watching her, Austin smiled brightly and lifted a finger to his lips.

“No need for formalities. Mind if I borrow this seat for a while? There aren’t any other empty terraces. I just want a break too.”

That was how it all began.

From that day forward, every time Austin attended a banquet, he would make his way to whatever terrace Lapheche had found.

But every time she thought about bringing up the topic of a contract marriage, it was as if he knew—and skillfully changed the subject like a snake slipping over a wall.

The topic he most often brought up was Esadien.

“I heard Young Lady Celeste was someone he met quite often.”

Lapheche panicked. She didn’t want to get dragged into another interrogation over something she barely knew—she’d had more than enough of that after the Viscount died.

“I-I only met him briefly… That’s all. And right before the Third Prince disappeared, he was… well…”

“Chasing after Lady Karnian. Yes, I heard.”

“Y-Yes. And Lady Minuelle Karnian apparently left for the northern territory around the time His Highness went missing.”

“Northern territory, huh…”

Austin mumbled thoughtfully, the words barely audible between his fingers as he brushed them across his lips.

“Did he stash her in the front yard?”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. I was just lost in thought.”

‘Lost in thought’ in front of someone?’  

Lapheche was utterly baffled.

Lapheche felt a little sulky, but considering the second Prince’s appearance, she was more than willing to tolerate a bit of arrogance.

Golden hair that seemed to glow even in the dark, skin bronzed from living in a desert kingdom.

His kind-looking green eyes shimmered with a strangely alluring charm whenever he smiled—and to top it off, a single tear mole placed like a drop of ink beneath one eye.

He was a strikingly handsome man, different from Esadien, whose delicate beauty was wrapped in a more austere, ascetic air.

“Um, Your Highness…”

At this point, Lapheche didn’t care about timing anymore.

Just as she mustered up her courage to finally bring it up, Austin interrupted once again.

“Oh, right. Lady Celeste, I meant to ask you something yesterday but forgot.”

“…What is it?”

A flicker of irritation slipped into her voice—but only for a moment.

“Are you aware that you possess magical talent?”

“H-How do you know that…?”

“So you did know.”

‘Could he be a mage too?’ 

Lapheche’s assumption wasn’t unreasonable—but in truth, Austin wasn’t a mage himself. He was using the power of an artifact.

“There’s a magical artifact that can detect mana.”

He pulled out a pendant from his coat—delicate, leaf-shaped, and glowing faintly in the dim light.

“Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“It was my mother’s keepsake. Right now, it’s glowing because it’s reacting to your mana.”

“…”

“The fact that it’s shining this much means you have quite a bit of mana. Why haven’t you pursued magic?”

‘I thought I’d become the Archmage’s disciple…’

But there was no way she could say that out loud. So Lapheche offered a vague excuse.

“I only found out recently. The Archmage confirmed it, but he said the academy’s enrollment for this year has already ended… so I’ve been thinking I might apply next year.”

“With this much potential, you could aim to become a disciple of the Archmage himself.”

“Apparently, he’s already taken in a new disciple this year.”

“Sounds like the timing just didn’t work out… What a shame.”

Austin crossed his arms and gazed into the distance, clearly weighing something in his mind.

After a long pause, as if he’d finally come to a decision, he turned to her with a serious expression.

“Lady Celeste.”

“Y-Yes?”

“There’s someone in Chitrum with immense power. They’ve been searching for a successor for a long time… If you’re willing, I could recommend you.”

Lapheche couldn’t hide her reaction—even she was startled at how tempted she sounded.