Episode 43
Winter arrived swiftly after Elonia’s birthday.
Elonia strolled through the snow-covered back garden of the Imperial Princess’s Palace with Artius.
Each step she took on the pristine white snow created a tiny footprint, accompanied by a satisfying crunch.
Artius followed behind her, a warm smile gracing his lips as he watched her enjoy the snow.
They had been spending a lot of time together lately, not just sharing meals but also taking walks.
Sarah, Ricardo, and Ethan trailed behind them at a distance, their faces filled with contentment.
“They seem to have gotten much closer.”
Ricardo remarked, his tone suggesting that he had witnessed something truly unbelievable.
Sarah nodded in agreement.
“It’s all thanks to our kind princess.”
“Indeed.”
Even Ethan chimed in.
No one had expected them to become so close.
They had still been awkward around each other at Elonia’s birthday celebration.
But after the celebration, when Artius visited Elonia’s room…
Sarah, Ricardo, and Ethan had discreetly left, giving them some privacy.
When they hadn’t emerged after a long while, the three cautiously knocked on the door and entered, only to witness an unbelievable sight.
Artius was standing there, holding a sleeping Elonia in his arms.
He looked flustered as he met their gazes.
“Your Majesty…! Have you been standing there this whole time?”
If Elonia had fallen asleep, he could have just put her to bed and left.
Artius replied in a barely audible voice,
“…I didn’t want to wake her.”
The three of them couldn’t believe their ears.
They looked at Elonia and noticed that her eyes were puffy, as if she had been crying.
Her tiny hands were clutching the old but well-maintained dagger and Artius’s robes, refusing to let go.
They had been worried that Artius had done something to upset her, but they were relieved to see the peaceful expression on her sleeping face.
It seemed like they had had a good talk.
Just a few months ago, could they have ever imagined Artius holding Elonia so gently, afraid to even put her down, his voice a mere whisper?
Now, he was nervously following behind her, his entire body radiating anxiety whenever she started running.
“Aah!”
Elonia tripped and fell.
Sarah instinctively moved to help her, but Artius was faster. He rushed to her side and helped her up.
Elonia, unharmed thanks to the thick layer of snow, stood up, taking Artius’s hand.
Artius brushed the snow off her clothes, and Elonia scowled at him, her face scrunching up in displeasure.
Then, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged, pulling him along effortlessly.
Elonia burst into laughter, and this time, she took his hand, walking alongside him on the snowy path.
Ricardo, watching them from afar, murmured,
“She looks happy.”
“Indeed…”
Sarah, her eyes never leaving Elonia, teared up.
Elonia’s laughter was becoming more frequent, a testament to her newfound happiness.
***
“Dad, is there anything you want?”
Elonia asked Artius during dinner after their walk.
Initially, she had been incredibly awkward about acting like a daughter and calling him “Dad.” But she found it easier to think of him as her friend and simply address him differently.
“Anything I want?”
Artius, who was cutting her meat for her, looked surprised.
Elonia chided him lightly,
“Your birthday is coming up soon. Did you forget?”
“Ah…”
While Elonia was busy enjoying her days, Artius, apart from the time he spent with her, was living the busiest life he had ever known.
He hadn’t celebrated his own birthday since the war ended.
He received gifts, of course, being the Emperor, but he didn’t care much for the occasion, simply marking it as another passing day.
Artius smiled, placing the cut meat on her plate, but didn’t answer.
“Don’t just smile. Tell me what you want.”
“Your presence is enough for me.”
“No, I mean a real gift.”
“Then just grow up healthy. That’s the best gift you can give me.”
“Ugh.”
Artius had become a full-fledged dad.
Elonia, stabbing her fork into her meat, cringed at his cheesy words.
“Are you sure you’re the same person who was a complete jerk last year?”
“I’m sorry… I have no excuse for my past behavior.”
Their interactions were often punctuated by these reminders of Artius’s past transgressions.
He would always lower his head, looking like a guilty criminal on the verge of kneeling in repentance.
Elonia found it amusing and often teased him about it.
She popped a piece of meat into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
Artius, content just watching her eat, didn’t even touch his own food.
“Stop staring. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
“I’m sorry.”
Elonia grumbled, embarrassed by his intense gaze.
But he didn’t budge, offering only a verbal apology.
Elonia was stubborn, but she had inherited that trait from her father.
She gave up and focused on her meal.
But she was still troubled by the upcoming birthday.
***
“Llewellyn, Alberich, what did you get Lady Asta for her birthday?”
Elonia asked the Asta brothers, who were visiting the Imperial Princess’s Palace for their winter break.
“Just a normal gift.”
“I also got her something ordinary.”
“What do you mean by ‘normal’?”
Elonia stomped her foot in frustration, staring at them with bewilderment. Llewellyn looked equally confused.
“Just something normal.”
“What’s your definition of normal?”
They wouldn’t understand.
The concept of a “normal” gift was beyond Elonia’s comprehension.
She had never exchanged gifts with Vermon, and while she had received countless gifts from Artius, she had never given him anything.
The Asta brothers, seeing her frustration, exchanged awkward glances.
“Something within our allowance, or maybe our top-ranked report cards from the academy?”
“Or a hand-embroidered handkerchief.”
Unfortunately, their answers were unhelpful.
Artius had more money than them, and giving a report card as a gift was pointless since Elonia hadn’t even enrolled in the academy yet.
And embroidery?
Elonia was notoriously clumsy, both in her past and present life.
Overwhelmed, Elonia slumped onto the sofa.
“What’s wrong? Are you worried about Father’s gift?”
“His Majesty will be happy with anything you give him.”
The Asta brothers, sitting on either side of her, offered words of comfort.
But their words didn’t ease her anxiety.
“But he gave me a ton of imperial treasures. Shouldn’t I give him something of equal value?”
“There’s nothing that can compare to imperial treasures. Besides, you received more than just one or two.”
“But still…”
“El, just between us, I think Father would be happy even if you gave him your leftover pudding.”
“Llewellyn, that’s disrespectful.”
“But it’s true!”
Alberich scolded him, but Llewellyn just whined in response.
Ignoring their bickering, Elonia buried her face in a cushion and groaned.
“Don’t you know anything about his preferences?”
“No, I didn’t care about him until a few months ago.”
“Well… That’s true.”
Even now, she didn’t know much about Artius’s preferences.
He wasn’t extravagant, and he seemed indifferent to food, eating whatever was put in front of him.
Even though she considered him her friend, apart from the fact that he was her father, Elonia knew nothing about him.
‘Well, it’s understandable. We met on the battlefield.’
Elonia rolled over on the sofa, hugging a cushion.
‘Come to think of it, what did I ever give Mother?’
She tried to remember, but her memories of her childhood as Chelon were too vague.
‘Even if I remembered, it wouldn’t be helpful. We weren’t exactly in a position to exchange gifts back then.’
Chelon’s mother, Alexia, had been a slave.
Due to her lowly birth, she was treated poorly, even as the king’s concubine. Any gifts she received were often snatched away by the queen.
Neither Chelon nor Alexia had complained.
They were too busy trying to survive, grateful that they could avoid death by simply giving up material possessions.
“But Brother, isn’t a hand-embroidered handkerchief a bit old-fashioned?”
“Mother still uses the one I gave her.”
“But she’s just a duchess. What’s a princess going to do with a handkerchief? What if she pricks her finger with a needle?”
“That’s…”
They were still arguing.
Come to think of it, Elonia had also received a hand-embroidered handkerchief from Alberich.
It was probably tucked away somewhere in her vanity.
Elonia, amused by their constant bickering, listened to their conversation.
“Let’s move on. What’s with the report card? Isn’t it a given that a child of the Asta family would be top of their class?”
“You clearly underestimate my genius. I enrolled three years early! And I’m getting top grades despite being surrounded by older students. Wouldn’t any parent be proud to show off such a talented child?”
“That’s a childish thought. When has Mother ever cared about our grades?”
“You’re so clueless. What parent wouldn’t be happy if their child came home with a good report card, asking for praise?”
“…You’re surprisingly cunning for a child.”
‘Well, he’s not wrong.’
Elonia nodded, still lying on the sofa.
Sometimes, she wondered what was going on inside Llewellyn’s head.
He wasn’t a reincarnated soul like her. Were these the thoughts of an eleven-year-old?
He seemed to have an uncanny ability to charm adults.
It was a skill Elonia, despite her two lifetimes of experience, hadn’t mastered. In a way, it was a remarkable talent.
‘Come to think of it, Olivia was also good at charming adults.’
Olivia had been such a charmer that even Vermon, Dolce, and the stoic Felix had doted on her.
‘I wonder if Simon is even surviving without her.’
Simon had always been timid and easily bullied, often losing his food to Dolce if Olivia wasn’t there to protect him.
Olivia would be twelve now, and Simon would be nine.
‘…They must have grown a lot.’
She could still vividly picture her younger siblings, their baby voices calling out to her as they toddled towards her.
There were no royal hostages from Heilan currently in Ravanta.
As they approached the age of enrollment in the academy, one of them would be sent to replace Dolce.
Most likely, it would be Simon.
Even as a royal, he wouldn’t be treated well as a hostage in Ravanta.
Could he even handle it?
She briefly wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t killed Dolce, but it was a pointless thought.
Just as she sighed, troubled by her worries, Alberich offered a suggestion.
“Your Highness, if you’re struggling, why don’t you go shopping with His Majesty and observe his preferences?”
Elonia, pulled out of her reverie, considered his suggestion.
Even Llewellyn seemed impressed.
“Oh, that’s actually a good idea, Brother.”
“…Llewellyn.”
“El, try asking your Father!”
Alberich glared at him, and Llewellyn quickly turned to Elonia, the true authority in the room, for support.
Elonia pushed Llewellyn’s head away, lost in thought.
‘Shopping, huh?’
She had gone on walks with Artius, but she had never considered shopping with him.
It was actually a good idea.
“Should we?”
Elonia sat up, nodding thoughtfully.
She would ask him today. Strike while the iron is hot, as they say.