I Am the Real One

Chapter 9

There was no sense in clinging to an impossible goal. It was foolish to crave affection from one who could not be bothered to even notice her. Letting go of this need calmed the storm of emotions in her heart and restored clarity.

What a fool I’ve been, Keira thought bitterly.

A lifetime spent trying to be a daughter worthy of the Parvis name—that had been her existence in a nutshell. In the confines of the small capital, she had learned and bettered herself tirelessly for her father’s approval. She wanted to become an unimpeachable image of perfection that no one, not even her father, could deny.

That was how she lived and died, learning at the very last moment that it had all been for nothing. The grand duke cast her aside the moment he believed that she was not his blood. She was thrown aside dismissively like a piece on his chessboard that he no longer had use for.

Keira bowed her head and cried, overcome with emotion. Warm tears fell down her cheeks.

But the sobbing was cut short by a knock at the door. Brushing away her tears, she looked up.

“What is it?”

A maid’s voice called from outside.

When Keira bade her to come in, the maid reported, “His Grace sent a healer.”

“His Grace?”

What does he want? She searched her memory for similar past instances and came back with nothing.

She, of course, was not capable of remembering everything that ever happened in her life, but she would've remembered if her father had sent her a healer. Such an uncharacteristic gesture from a man who had never asked, not even as a formality, if she was in good health, would have marked the highlight of Keira’s life.

“Why a healer?”

“I suppose… because you did not visit him this morning, m’lady,” the maid replied uncertainly.

Keira’s eyes grew wide in amazement.

“Huh,” she sighed, thinking of the times he could not muster a kind look for all those years she craved his approval.

“There must've been a misunderstanding. I'm fine. Please thank the healer for coming and send him back.”

“B-but that would offend His Grace,” the maid observed in horror.

“Why would it? He sent the healer to inquire after my health, so I imagine he will be glad to find I am in perfect health and do not require a healer.”

“M’lady, perhaps just having the healer ascertain—that is, out of gratitude...”

“That would be a good half-hour of my time wasted. Thank him for coming and send him back.”

“…….”

The maid stood still like a pillar despite Keira’s clear instruction. She appeared stupefied. It wasn't proper conduct for a servant to question the request of her mistress, but Keira could sympathize.

In her previous life, she had lived for her father's approval and nothing else. She had done all she could to hear from her father’s lips that she deserved the exalted name of Parvis.

It was no surprise that the maid could not recognize this new Keira, who was declining to even see the healer her father had sent himself. She must've thought Keira had gone mad.

“I’ll visit His Grace in the evening and thank him,” Keira assured the maid. “So send the healer back.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

The maid bowed and left the room. Keira did plan to pay the grand duke a visit in the evening; she had not said it just to mollify the maid.

It would not be to thank him, but to confirm a suspicion.

I should mention that I would not be visiting him in the morning henceforth.

More importantly, she had things to investigate. Rising from her chair, Keira went over her list of business for the day.

* * *

A princess’s day was rather busy. Having an older brother might have eased the burden, but she was unfortunately the eldest, as Zeke was not yet of age. The eldest daughter of a family known as “the shield of humanity” could not rest. She could not have time to herself this morning if she had not cancelled a lesson.

But after eleven o’clock, she was obligated to return to her duties. Today, she was conducting final tests for the new recruit of knights. In exchange for protecting humanity against the demon race, the House of Parvis was the only family permitted to form a banner of knights. Keira sat next to the second commander and watched the tournament.

A candidate stepped onto the drill ground. She did not recognize him, as he had previously failed his test. Just as she expected, he fell off his horse less than a minute in and received failing marks. He was a sorry sight as he exited the drill ground after much flailing on the ground.

“Next!”

This one she recognized. The third son of the House of Klaudt: Karl Klaudt. Keira knew him well. He had passed the test on this day and was inducted to the banner.

“He’s going to pass,” she said to herself.

Karl deflected an attack from his opponent with the same aplomb she remembered. He was impressive for a knight bachelor even though he did not win the duel. Regardless, he received a score well in the passing range.

A lunch break was scheduled after Karl’s test. Second Commander Joseph asked Keira as he got up to leave, “How did you know before you saw the duel that this man would pass?”

“Huh?”

He was staring straight at her.

Joseph Argos. The second son of the House of Argos and the Second Commander of the Knights of Parvis. He and Keira were not on good terms, but he came to her defense in the end.

At great risk to his status and rank, he had implored the emperor to show leniency on Keira. Stakes were high even for sons of prestigious families when it came to contradicting the oracle, but he was willing to put his knighthood on the line for it. Not that it worked...

“J-just from rumors. I’ve heard that Klaudt’s third boy was quite talented.”

“I see.”

Joseph did not dwell on it.

At the time, Keira and Joseph were not on good terms. In fact, there was an air of hostility between them. When the children of the grand duke came of age, they traditionally served for two to three years as commander of the Knights of Parvis—a group of knights excellent in both skill and pedigree.

The ages-old tradition was meant to help the heir to the House of Parvis form strong bonds with the elite families. Not to mention, it was vitally important in learning about leadership and politics by commanding a group.

As tradition dictated, Keira was given the position of commander a year earlier just by virtue of being the firstborn of the grand duke, demoting Joseph Argos from Commander to Second Commander. This had always made Keira feel at odds with him.

Next to Joseph, a knight of skill, character, and pedigree, all she had was the blood of the grand duke. Even with her knighthood, the title felt unearned, albeit traditional. She felt so deeply aware of her flaws next to Joseph, especially when she was doing everything to appear perfect for her father.

Comparing the Commander by birthright to the Second Commander with peerless mastery, one would certainly outshine the other. And she had despised Joseph for it. She quarreled with him for the upper hand in every small matter. She knew how petty this was, how pitiful her conduct, but her heart often overruled her head.

Yet, in spite of it all, Joseph defended her in her final days. His argument was that Keira had not meant to deceive anyone and certainly did not deserve execution.

Why had he come to her aid? What did he gain by advocating for a person who would be cast out of society—one that did not get along with him, no less? It had to be innate kindness.

“Sir Joseph, a moment,” Keira called as he was getting up.

Legs still bent at the knees, he looked back.

“Yes, m’lady?”

“I must apologize to you.”