Chapter 9

Prince Tarcan has achieved another victory.

“Hmm.”

The king of Ilugo had rubbed his chin upon hearing his aide’s report.

“You do not look pleased, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, but I am,” the king had said. “However, I feel Tarcan may need to deal with another assassin because of it.”

And the assassin would not come from Silvanus, their enemy state, but Ilugo, Tarcan’s own birthplace.

“Will you intervene?” the aide had asked.

“What for? He should be able to take care of that himself.”

As he had said this, the king had begun to pour wine into his glass.

However, he’d lost his grip on the bottle. It had rolled to the ground, spilling honey-colored liquid onto the carpet. Surprised, the head servant had rushed forward to clean the mess.

“I’ll bring a new bottle, Your Majesty.”

The king had shaken his head.

“It’s fine. You may all leave.”

Everyone, including the aide, had left the king’s office without a sound, whispering to each other.

“He must be very worried about Prince Tarcan, even though he says the prince should figure it out on his own.”

“Right. Since Prince Tarcan is his favorite child…”

“If only His Highness had been born of noble blood.”

The surface of the water had rippled, marking the end of the vision. That was all Aristine had seen with the Emperor’s Eye.

Aristine reflected on the scene and shook her head.

They’re wrong.

Even after serving the king for so long, they had all misinterpreted His Majesty’s actions. The king hadn’t dropped the bottle out of worry.

“Your Majesty, I love prin-pran jelly. Could you please give me—?” Yenikarina began to whisper to the king, giving him her most winsome smile. But she never finished.

That was because everyone in the room was silently screaming at Aristine’s unexpected move.

Wh-what the...?

What’s going on?!

Though their eyes were working perfectly, they couldn’t register the scene in front of them. It was simply unbelievable. Even Tarcan, who had remained out of the conversation until now, reared in surprise.

“Princess?” the king asked.

As might be expected, he was the first to regain his senses. Nephter looked at the prin-pran jelly right in front of his mouth. The jelly, which was known to be far juicier than any other in the world, glistened with a delectable orange luster, hinting at its sweet-and-sour taste.

Nephter had not picked up the jelly. Someone else was holding the fork, and that someone was Princess Aristine.

“Father,” Aristine said.

At this, Yenikarina and the rest of those present froze in shock.

“D-did you just call His Majesty ‘Father’?” she asked.

My father?! Yenikarina internally screamed at Aristine.

“Yenika, do you not want me to call His Majesty that?”

After you called me family first? Aristine’s stare seemed to say. Yenikarina quickly went silent.

“I will call Your Majesty Father once I marry Tarcan, won’t I? We’ll be family.”

“Right...”

“So it isn’t a problem if I call you that a few days early, is it?”

Aristine’s attitude was calm, but her eyes darted around, the telltale sign of someone used to being denied things. She was afraid Nephter would take offense or reject her.

Regardless, Aristine still gathered her courage. She was determined to accept any cold denial that might cross her path and to grow from each one.

Nephter spoke. “It’s not a problem.”

Yenikarina looked like she’d faint from the king’s response.

Aristine’s eyes quivered. For the first time, Nephter thought he saw a glimpse of who the princess truly was: a person who had stepped out into the world for the first time, equipped with sincerity behind her hard mask.

Aristine’s face flushed with happiness.

“I’m very happy to hear that...” she mumbled. Then, with a short intake of breath, she flinched, set her expression back to neutral, and started to explain herself.

“Oh, um. You understand where I’m coming from, Your Majesty. I was just...”

She felt like she really had a father now, which filled her with joy. But she’d only asked for permission to call him Father because that was how she had to address him in the future. She couldn’t truly put any stock behind the king’s agreement.

But she also remembered a scene she had seen from her Emperor’s Eye in the past. Her sister had sat on the emperor’s knees, feeding him prin-pran jelly. Back then, Aristine had wanted to show her father that she could also do the same and that she knew her manners. So she had practiced by picking up balls of mud with her fork.

“So what is this? Are you offering it to me?” Nephter cut through Aristine’s mumbling. Her eyes widened with anticipation.

“Yes!”

The excitement in her voice was evident as she brought the fork closer to the king’s mouth.

“Say ‘Ah,’ Father.”

Cold, impenetrable silence descended on the tea table.

Wait, I thought she was smart? How did she miss the intonation in His Majesty’s voice?

Paelamien felt like ripping her hair out. At that moment, His Majesty hadn’t been asking Aristine to feed him the jelly. He had obviously meant, “What is this? You couldn’t possibly mean to appeal to me by pulling such an act? Get that out of my face.”

At least, that was what Paelamien, Marten, and Stalina had heard.

After all, that was who Nephter, the ruler of the Monster Plains, was.

Not only was she trying to feed the Iron Conqueror the jelly, she was rushing him by asking him to say “Ah”! Simply witnessing the events unfold squeezed the life out of their hearts.

Only Aristine was blind to the truth as she waited for the king to open his mouth.

“Ah?”

Now Nephter was clearly mocking her. In no way could he have been complying with Aristine’s request. This was more of an “Ah? Did you just ask me to say ‘Ah’?”

His children were certain of it because Nephter’s eyes were colder than ever.

The older Ilugoan princess had made her way to the tea room under the queen’s orders believing that everything would go wonderfully, but the entire time had been spent witnessing one disaster after another. Even Paelamien wished Aristine would get on her knees now and beg for forgiveness.

But Aristine had never been someone who would live up to Paelamien’s expectations. No matter how observant she was of her surroundings thanks to the Emperor’s Eye, she lacked experience with interpersonal relationships.

Her knowledge was no different from someone who had learned the art of conversation through text and television. After all, she had only ever seen scenes in her Emperor’s Eye rather than experiencing them herself.

While she had moved cautiously until then because she was nervous, she was so delighted that she interpreted the king’s words as permission. She shoved the prin-pran jelly into Nephter’s mouth as soon as it fell open. He swallowed reflexively.

“It’s delicious, isn’t it?” Aristine asked Nephter and smiled. Everyone held their breaths and readied themselves for the worst reaction imaginable.

However, the king’s anger didn’t strike like lightning as they expected.

“Hmm...” he let out a strange and thoughtful hum.

He didn’t look angry—far from it, in fact.

Everyone struggled to understand what had just happened.

A sharp clattering echo broke the silence.

Yenikarina stared at the table, her lips standing stark white against her already pale face. The tea that spilled from her cup soaked the tablecloth, and the reddish stain slowly began to spread across the white fabric.

Yenikarina had pushed her teacup over by accident. Her hand was still visibly shaking.

“What’s wrong, Yenika?”

“Oh...”

Yenikarina lifted her eyes to look at Aristine. Her eyes began to refocus.

“Is something wrong?”

Flinching, Yenikarina managed a smile.

“No, nothing’s wrong!”

Aristine’s eyes landed on the tea.

“Oh...” Yenikarina said. “I think the teacup is defective. It probably tipped over because it was off balance.”

Then she turned and began to scold the palace maids.

“You should have inspected this thoroughly before using it to serve the royal family! What were you doing?!”

Her voice was devoid of any cuteness. It was the first time Yenikarina had broken her facade in the king’s palace, as she wanted to be loved by all. The palace maids thought it was unfair, but they had no choice but to silently endure the princess’s complaints.

Aristine watched them flounder, then tilted her head.

Was it really that surprising to her?

She wasn’t sure.

She knew the king had dropped the bottle in her vision because of the pain in his right wrist. While it was fine on most days, he suffered a slight tremor whenever he put his wrist through strain or attempted anything that required coordination.

Prin-pran jelly was an Ilugoan specialty, but it was difficult to pick up with a fork because it was so pliant and slippery. Though they were enemies, even the Silvanian nobles used prin-pran jellies to learn table etiquette and could scoop the jellies up in one elegant motion.

But that’s impossible for someone who can’t use his wrist perfectly.

However, Aristine had come up with a very simple solution.

Nephter liked the jelly, but he couldn’t eat it on his own because of his wrist pain. He also couldn’t expose his injury to the world.

Based on all of the above, Aristine had reached one conclusion:

Someone should feed him the jellies.

She knew that this was the best solution, but the king’s reaction seemed rather unusual.

Oh, maybe he doesn’t like others to feed him.

She hadn’t been able to confirm that with the Emperor’s Eye. However, it was possible he was offended that she was treating him like a child.

“How is it?” she asked.

“It’s good...” the king replied after slight hesitation. His sharp blue eyes turned to the rest of the prin-pran jellies.

Does he want more?

Aristine picked up another cube and fed it to Nephter. The king of the barbarians was docile as he opened his mouth and accepted the offering. His expression, however, remained stiff and serious, as befit a king.

Oh, he’s eating more than I expected, Aristine thought as she continued to feed the prin-pran jellies to him like a mother bird feeds its chicks.

Still...

It seemed rather unfair. Seven people were present, and seven jellies had been served, yet the king was already on his fifth.

Though sweet, prin-pran jellies were also tart, so most satisfied themselves with one.

He used to only eat two or three when his wrist wasn’t injured. Maybe he’s enjoying them because he hasn’t had them in so long.

She had witnessed His Majesty eat the jellies through her Emperor’s Eye, but he’d never had more than three.

Aristine speared the next jelly, careful not to let it bounce off the plate. This was the sixth one.

It’s a little tiring for me, but he is injured, after all.

In any case, Aristine was happy to feed someone she could call a father.

She fed the jelly to the king. Now, only one remained. She began to think.

I wanted to try one too...

Aristine had never tried one, even though she had seen them several times through the Emperor’s Eye.

I’ve heard they’re delicious. Supposedly, the strong sweet-and-sour flavor is like having a banquet in one’s mouth.

The jellies before her eyes had even been made in Ilugo, where the dish originated. And these jellies had to be the best of the best if they were suitable for the king.

Agh!

Aristine stabbed the last jelly. She had no choice. She wasn’t here to eat prin-pran jellies—she needed to convince Tarcan how talented she was.

Sacrifices sometimes had to be made for the greater good. She internally wept as she offered the last jelly to His Majesty. The king accepted it, of course.

They must have been delicious. He hadn’t even taken a break to sip his tea.

He must be so happy...

Aristine was starting to grow jealous, when she heard a short breathless laugh beside her ear.

What?

Aristine turned to Tarcan with questions in her eyes. Why was he so astonished? What was wrong?

Despite Tarcan’s laughter, Aristine felt proud of herself, believing she’d shown Tarcan her appeal. Wasn’t the ability to gain the attention of someone in power vital in business? Though his astonished laugh said otherwise...

She felt his gaze was directed more toward the king, but she was still sitting next to His Majesty, after all.

Oh, Tarcan must be puzzled since he doesn’t know about His Majesty’s injury.

Regardless, the king seemed happy to have finally eaten a dessert he had done without for so many years.

He might lower his guard around me.

Who would assume Aristine was feeding him because of a wrist injury? Only the most distrustful of people would come to that conclusion.

No one could have suspected Aristine of knowing a secret the servants were not privy to. Even the queen had been left in the dark. Other than the king, only two people in the world officially knew about the king’s injury. One was the king’s physician...

And the other is Princess Yenikarina.