Baby Prisoner of the Winter Castle

Chapter 3

On the way back to Shefers from Grezekaiah, Maximilian decided to part with the main Shefers army and take his soldiers directly back to Sheridan. The king of Shefers, Lysander, glared disapprovingly at his half-brother.

“Are you uncomfortable with the fact that you fought for me, Brother? It seems that way, since you won’t even attend the victory banquet.”

Maximilian gave him a deep bow. Though it seemed like a gesture of apology, his facial expression was still stiff.

“Not at all, Your Majesty.”

“Or are you not coming to the capital because you covet my crown?”

Maximilian remained quiet at this sarcastic remark. After a moment of silence, Lysander spun around with a loud swish of his robe.

“I guess you can’t wait to get back to that lowborn mutt back in your castle. Fine, do whatever you want.”

While Lysander took his soldiers and marched on toward the capital, Maximilian and the knights of Sheridan remained at the rear to see them off. When the king and his soldiers disappeared into the distance, Quentin came up next to Maximilian and began to grumble.

“Everyone is going to be sour if we do not hold a proper banquet in Sheridan, my lord.”

“All right.”

“Do you know why I have not yet been able to marry, even at this age? It is because you never take me to any of the banquets in the capital! The ladies there think I am already married or have no interest in women at all!”

“I haven’t influenced your reputation in any way. And, Quentin Sinclair…”

“Yes, my lord?”

“What are you doing up here?”

Quentin grimaced at the duke’s words. He had been given a punishment of sorts to ride the carriage with Clarisse. The task was like a punishment because the knights of Sheridan—the followers of Maximilian—felt uneasy about getting close to the small child. They all knew that as soon as she turned eighteen, she would have to die. Nevertheless, she was still a war captive, so she could not be allowed to ride a carriage alone. Well, even if she wasn’t a captive, no grown-up could make a child ride alone.

This was why the people of Sheridan—apart from the duke, who had to ride by the king’s side—had drawn straws. And unfortunately, Quentin had drawn the short one.

“I really cannot take it any longer. Seriously,” he protested, his face scrunching up. “I can only stare out the window from a silent carriage for so long. I feel like I am going to suffocate!”

“Weren’t you going to tell her about life in Sheridan?”

“Well, I was planning to!”

The girl’s status had suddenly changed from princess to captive, so there were many things to teach her. But as she sat across from Quentin, fidgeting her fingers, he couldn’t say a word.

“How can I tell her she is no longer a princess? That she is now merely a captive? A criminal?”

“Is there anything else she should know?”

Quentin nodded fiercely at Maximilian’s reply. “Of course! I have to tell her she must get rid of everything she owns from Grezekaiah once we arrive in Sheridan.”

This was part of the humiliation for a captive being taken to another country.

“And?”

“And I must also tell her, ‘Birthday parties are absolutely forbidden. I’m sure you know why!’”

That felt like an incredibly cruel thing to tell a child. Quentin could not bring himself to say it earlier.

“Anything else?”

“Well, I must also advise her not to cause any trouble and to be obedient to the people of the estate. It would be a pain if she annoys everyone without knowing her place.”

But Quentin believed Clarisse was not the kind of child who would misbehave because she had kept quiet the entire ride from Grezekaiah. She had probably sensed his discomfort. I guess I won’t really have to tell her to behave herself… The idea of forbidding birthday parties also bothered him. The people of Sheridan may feel uneasy on her birthday, but it wouldn’t be her fault.

“My lord… I—”

And just as he was about to suggest making adjustments to the rules, Maximilian interrupted him in a stern voice, “You heard that, didn’t you?”

“My lord?” Quentin asked in surprise.

However, Maximilian’s gaze was focused on something behind Quentin. Anxiously, the latter slowly turned his head. Clarisse was standing there, clutching her shabby pouch. The small child, barely as tall as his waist, was pale.

“I-I didn’t mean…!”

Quentin began to shout before he could help himself. He had not meant to say such cruel things to her, especially the part about her birthday parties. Perhaps that was something they could still reconsider. But before he could correct himself, Maximilian stepped toward the child, calling her by her name.

“Clarisse Lenon Grezekaiah.”

The duke had a much larger build than the average man. Compared to him, the child looked particularly small and frail. Even so, Maximilian spoke to her without a hint of sympathy in his tone.

“You will not be treated like a princess. You will get rid of all your possessions from your kingdom. You will not have birthday parties. You will behave yourself. Do you understand these four rules?”

Instead of answering him, the child continued fidgeting with her pouch. The knights and soldiers nearby were now quietly watching this confrontation.

The child finally raised her head and answered the duke calmly, “I… am not a princess. I never was, really. And as for the birthday parties…”

Quentin was about to interrupt and tell her she could have them, but Clarisse spoke first.

“I have never had any.”

“She’s never had any birthday parties?”

Murmurs spread among the knights around them. In Sheridan, children’s birthdays were considered important events until they turned eighteen. They would be the center of attention in their village on that blissful day as everyone congratulated them. It was a tradition.

The child gripped her rattling pouch more tightly.

“And of course, I can behave myself. I promise not to cause any trouble. So please…”

There was desperation in her voice.

“Please do not throw away my everything from Grezekaiah.”

A brief silence ensued.

“Please let me keep just one thing. Please… Please have mercy.”

“So you’re saying you will hold on to hope for your homeland?”

Such emotions were a luxury for war captives. And after all, she was their princess. He could not have her longing for her old life and dreaming of rebuilding her kingdom.

The child shook her head violently and held out the pouch in her hands. “No! Please just let me keep this.”

It was the pouch that the duke assumed was filled with gems or coins.

“Captives may not possess any personal wealth,” he said.

“It is not wealth. It is… my friend,” the girl said hastily as she opened the pouch. Inside were small round rocks smaller than her fist.

While Maximilian quietly peered into the pouch, Quentin nudged his arm. “Ah, you must not know what a friend is since you do not have any, my lord. A friend is someone you are close to.”

When the duke turned toward him, Quentin winked. He seemed to be hinting at Maximilian to do something.

“I see. If it is something you are close to, it is all the more reason to—”

“All the more reason to remain in Sheridan! With the permission of our generous duke, of course!” Quentin quickly cut in with a small yelp.

With these words, Clarisse gave Maximilian a more pleading look.

Quentin began urging actively, “Rocks do not throw birthday parties, my lord. And they behave better than any person. They are just rocks, after all.”

At this, Clarisse’s shoulders flinched a little. Maximilian, who had his eyes on her the entire time, held out his hand.

“Give it to me.”

Clarisse clutched her pouch tighter and begged, “I-I will make sure it keeps quiet! And we will not hold any birthday parties! So—”

“Give. It. To. Me.”

She looked up at the duke quietly for a moment before reluctantly handing him the pouch. The knights around them sighed and began whispering to each other.

“His Grace is a little too strict sometimes.”

“What’s wrong with letting a child have her rocks?”

Regardless, the duke emptied the pouch onto his hand without batting an eye. Four brown stones rolled onto his large palm.

After staring at them for a while, he asked, “What’s its name?”

“I-it is Squishy.”

“Squishy,” he repeated slowly as if to confirm, and Clarisse cautiously nodded.

The duke held out the rocks on his hand.

“Squishy and Squishy, another Squishy, and the last Squishy.”

“Oh… Actually, the four of them together is Squishy.”

“I see. I apologize for mistaking its name.”

He nodded calmly at the child and said the rocks’ name again. “Squishy, I permit you to enter Sheridan as Clarisse’s friend. But you are forbidden from holding birthday parties or causing any trouble.”

After this solemn announcement, he put the stones back into the pouch and handed it back to Clarisse. The knights and soldiers stared at the duke in shock, but he seemed completely unbothered.

“If there is nothing else you wish to ask, return to your carriage. Quentin will continue escorting Clarisse on the way to Sheridan.”

“My lord? M-me?!”

Quentin put on a face, pleading to be replaced. The duke understood and quickly shook his head.

“You will watch over Clarisse and her friend Squishy.”

“But my lord!” Quentin wailed.