A Fairy Tale Written by a Villain

Chapter 5

“Was the woman you saw perhaps...”

The moment the king spoke, the palace attendant hurried to the king and said, “Your Highness, Grand Duke Karl Waschke of the Nevellant Empire has requested an audience with you. What would you like to do?”

“Has the warship arrived already?”

“Yes, and Princess Isabelle is with him.”

“Isabelle as well?” The king recalled that she had dropped a bombshell, saying that she would marry the grand duke. There’s no way things would have progressed in such a short time. The king glimpsed at the prince slightly and nodded his head. “First, let them in.”

The doors to the parlor opened at the same time the king gave permission, and Grand Duke Karl Waschke and Princess Isabelle entered. Behind them, Snow, holding a large box, was also present. The servants guarding the surrounding area held their breaths and lowered their heads.

There stood the bad-tempered princess, the grand duke who killed twelve brides, and his aide, serving with a smile. Although the beauty of the trio was statuesque, the atmosphere surrounding them was as chilling as an army of demons from the netherworld.

“Is he that foreign aristocrat who killed twelve brides?”

“Sh! Shut up. You want your neck chopped off?”

The servants, who were whispering quietly with their heads lowered, shut their mouths as the three figures passed in front of them.

Isabelle’s party sat at the table following the king’s invitation.

“Oh my, Your Highness! Are you okay?” Only Snow, the most sociable among the three, looked at the prince and smiled brightly.

“Haha, I never expected to see you here, Sir Snow White.”

“It’s a relief that you are safe.” The grand duke, who sat next to the prince, also gave his formal greeting.

“Thank you for coming all the way here for me, Grand Duke.” The prince patted his shoulder.

The grand duke coldly looked down at the prince’s hand, then at the rest of him. “It’s only natural,” he said.

“But Grand Duke, it’s like you’ve read my mind!”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Your Highness.”

“You found the woman I asked His Majesty to find, Grand Duke.” The prince grinned, looking at Isabelle. “I never thought you would be here, after running away and abandoning me,” he said.

“Isabelle Dejar, sixth princess of Dejar Kingdom, gives her greetings to the prince,” Isabelle said, nodding her head. It was a clearly stiffer tone than when they had first met.

The prince blinked, then laughed heartily. “You were speaking so freely back then, but now you’ve become all prim and proper.”

“Well. I don’t remember,” Isabelle replied with a frosty expression, avoiding his gaze.

“I was going to call you anyway, Isabelle. So, you saved Prince Edwin, right?” Barely raising the corners of his lips, the king pointed out her rude attitude with a sharp look.

“No. The one who saved the prince was another woman, Father. The prince keeps misunderstanding.”

“Enough with that excuse, Princess.” The prince shook his head and smiled awkwardly. Looking at their interaction with interest, the grand duke raised a corner of his mouth as if he only just realized what was happening.

Isabelle took a small deep breath and got to the point. “Father, the reason I came here is because I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s about the marriage. I told you before.” Isabelle glanced at the grand duke, who was sitting upright.

This brat is being stubborn again! the king thought. After looking at the prince carefully, the king whispered to Isabelle, “I do not approve of your decision.”

“I will choose a husband from the portraits you gave me, Father.”

“Things are different now. Leave the decision for later.”

“It is the kingdom’s tradition to choose a groom on the twenty-second birthday, and today is that day.”

“Isabelle!” The hot-tempered king roughly grasped Isabelle’s wrist. Having once sailed the seas with armaments in hand, his grip was very strong. Isabelle withstood the pain—even though it felt like her wrist was going to break—with gritted teeth.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted. “Your Highness.” Grand Duke Karl Waschke called the king and jumped in between them. His glaring eyes, a murderous aura about them defying all primness, landed on Isabelle’s wrist. That bastard grand duke. How rude! He’s still wet behind his ears!

The king took back his hand hesitantly and said, “Why did you call me?”

“I just proposed to Princess Isabelle.” The grand duke lied smoothly.

Isabelle, who was hiding her red and swollen wrist, tried her best to cover her shock.

“You... proposed to Isabelle?” The king was not the only one who was flustered. The prince, who opened his eyes wide in shock, looked back and forth between her and the grand duke.

“Yes. And now, I am going to formally confess my heart to her once more.” The grand duke got up from his seat and walked briskly to Isabelle. He glanced at Isabelle’s feet. He was quite pleased that she had taken off Snow’s shoes and changed into neat heels that fit her small feet perfectly.

“Here it is, my liege.” Snow, who was standing by, handed the box to the grand duke. He took a colorful bouquet of flowers from the box. The freshly bloomed peonies and Juliet roses spread the scent of fresh spring throughout the chilly room. The image of the grand duke holding the bouquet of flowers looked so lovely that the maids, who were stealing glances at him, let out squeals of admiration without realizing. You’d think that the protagonist of this novel is that man, Isabelle thought.

As she looked at him in awe, the grand duke got down on one knee at her feet. “Princess Isabelle Dejar.” She had made him kneel twice in one day. The grand duke smirked at that thought. “Will you marry me?” After saying those words, he ended up smiling brightly.

Isabelle unconsciously smiled like a fool, but she quickly composed herself. Wow, I did not mean to smile. Thankfully, there was no one looking at her—everyone was staring at the grand duke. The parlor became silent in an instant.

The prince tapped the teacup with a frosty expression as he watched them and scoffed. It feels rather terrible to have the woman I had my heart set on taken from me, he thought—and to that Karl Waschke bastard, of all people. He annoys me every time I see him! How dare that accursed murderer, who can’t even show his face in high society, run around in front of me like that? It was clear that once this princess found out about the grand duke’s true nature, she would run away. I shall make you regret not choosing me first, then. Even as the prince harbored these sinister thoughts, he had on a gentle smile.

In the meantime, Isabelle took the bouquet of flowers from the grand duke. “Oh my, I’m so happy, Grand Duke.” Isabelle tried her best to react naturally, but the corners of her lips kept trembling. As if this body never had a reason to smile during her life, it was difficult whenever she had to hold any kind of smile for a while.

But the moment she heard the grand duke’s words, the corners of Isabelle’s lips came down quickly. “Princess Isabelle, I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you.”

“Would you marry me?”

“Grand Duke Karl Waschke, I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you.”

This man... He’s repeating the words I told him on the ship! Isabelle barely maintained her smile and opened her eyes wide. The grand duke simply blinked, but there wasn’t any other change to his facial expression. “I shall promise you two things if I get married to you, Princess.”

“Promise...?” Was he going to say the same things for this as well? Isabelle gripped the bouquet of flowers.

“I shall give as many marriage gifts as you please—to you and the king.” The person who welcomed those words the most was King Dejar. His face turned bright. But Isabelle could not be genuinely happy since it was obvious that he was taking a dig at her through the very conditions she had proposed. “Second, I will do my best until the day you take your last breath so that you will not resent me.”

“Thank you, Grand Duke. They are truly perfect promises.” Isabelle helped the grand duke back to his feet and sarcastically said, “It seems like you have a personality of giving back exactly what you got.”

“How can a man in charge of a huge warship be indecisive?” The grand duke smiled sarcastically at Isabelle, taking a dig at her once again. “The man in charge of this huge warship is more indecisive than I thought.”

Wow, his personality really sucks. Did I step on crap trying to avoid stepping in the mud?

Isabelle glanced at the prince. Although it was for a short while, her standard of beauty—which had been heightened by means of beholding the grand duke—could not properly recognize the prince’s facial features. She was only able to recognize that he was holding back his answer and smiling forcefully. Still, the grand duke is better than that bastard prince. Let’s just take his personality as the price for his looks.

Isabelle lifted her chin up proudly. “Please give us your permission to marry, Father.”

“Oh... All right. If you so desire, then I give my permission but—” The king stroked his white beard and looked at the grand duke. “Grand Duke Karl Waschke, I raised my daughter preciously. Please listen to me. I hope that you treat her more preciously than any other jewel.”

“I shall treat her better than you treasure her, so please, don’t worry so much,” the grand duke replied, looking blatantly at Isabelle’s left cheek and wrist, both of which were still swollen.

He is as rude as the rumors say he is. The king swallowed those words and cleared his throat. Although the prince’s face was far from friendly, he did not take back his approval. Isabelle will not be able to bear his temper and return to the kingdom. Or that man may get fed up with her first and cancel the marriage. Since he’s a man with many flaws, I can find fault in him and manage to take any marriage gifts as consolation, thought the king. Then, he would be able to use Isabelle once again. The king smiled slyly and blessed the couple.

***

A mage wearing a gray robe was looking around the Mage Tower. He was the Mage Tower’s first mage, who was always teased for his manner of speech.

Where exactly did he go? When he tapped his long magic wand down, a shiny light flickered from it, but nothing was caught in the tracking spell. Of course, he is not one to leave traces clumsily.

The mage diligently ran past the castle walls to the beach. Thankfully, the one he was searching for was there, standing still—a person wearing a long dress with a slit at the side, imported from the east continent, along with pants. Red hair plaited down on their side, perhaps a changpao. However, it was hard to tell if they were a woman or a man just from the back.

“Tower, Tower Master! Pl-please, you have to go to the me-meeting... You-you’ve delayed it long en-enough,” said the mage.

“Why would I go to a meeting where the idiots come to a conclusion by themselves?” he said in a low, masculine voice. The tower master was looking intently at something on the beach.

“St-still, you have to ke-keep your seat. Wh-what exactly are y-you doing here?”

“I was wondering if someone had killed themselves here.” He used his chin to point at a pair of heels. Although these were the heels that Isabelle had taken off while walking along the shore with Snow, they had no way of knowing this.

“Th-they are just heels,” the mage remarked.

“Maybe. But they’re strangely familiar.” The tower master picked up the heels on the sand without hesitation. Every time he moved, the dozens of bracelets on his arm jingled. “I like it. Red heels.” Cheymon smirked and examined them.

“A-aren’t they t-too small for you to wear...?”

“I’m just going to take a look.”

“Wh-what?”

“I’m just going to leave them alone and look.”

“I-it’s a really bad hobby.”

“It’s probably the most polite out of all my hobbies.” Cheymon threw the heels he held in the mage’s direction without looking, and they flew straight into the mage’s face.

“Ahh!”

“Keep them carefully in my lab, Dodo. They’ll be used for something important.” Cheymon raised his red lips seductively, then slowly walked towards the Mage Tower.

“I-I really h-hate that nick-nickname!”

“It suits you perfectly.”

“I-I was ori-originally a brave... W-wait for me, Tower Master!” The mage straightened his robe, flapping in the sea breeze, and followed behind the Cheymon.