MFTR 23

23. Rip It Apart
 

“The Empress?”

“Mhm.”

“Why the Empress?”

Audrey didn’t miss a beat and shot a sharp question that pierced right through the heart of the matter.

Mikhail usually liked how rational and smart Audrey was, but at this moment, he almost resented her quick wit.

Holding back tears, he muttered,
“Sigh… Actually… She’s a guest invited by Her Majesty. I think this young lady is my fiancée.”

What in the world did he just say?

Anette was the only one left speechless, her mouth gaping open. She had no time to even object.

And when Audrey suddenly burst into tears again at Mikhail’s words, Mikhail followed suit and started crying too.

Anette, who had been debating whether or not it was okay to reveal her identity to non-royals just to calm the kids down, suddenly remembered the Empress Dowager and Empress hiding behind the bushes.

She had hoped they would quietly slip away while she handled things, but it seemed they hadn’t left—unwilling to leave her behind, they remained hidden.

The realization that they might’ve heard everything sent a chill down her spine.

You stepped up so confidently like you could handle it all, and now look at this mess!

She had no idea that the Empress Dowager was stifling her laughter as if she’d just heard the funniest comedy in the world, or that Charlotte was gripping the back of her neck, her face flushed red from embarrassment over her son’s outrageous misunderstanding.

Then Mikhail loudly cried out, furiously wiping away his tears with his arm:

“That’s why I said I didn’t want to be the Crown Prince!”

And at that moment, Anette’s expression changed.

Like the calm before a storm, she alone sensed the shift in the air and wind—something was coming.

RUMMMMBLE!

Suddenly, the ground trembled. A massive tree beside Mikhail began to shake violently, roots and all, before tipping over.

Anette’s eyes widened in horror.

No—! That direction…!

At that very moment—

Just after arriving at the palace, Cardin had gone straight to the Emperor’s office and silently placed the engagement certificate from the temple on the desk with pride.

Lucius, who had just been about to sign a document, gave him a look of disbelief.

“…What are you doing?”

“As you can see, I’m letting you know the engagement has been made.”

“Hmph. I thought you’d be rushing to the princess, but this is unexpected.”

Just that morning, the younger brother he’d raised almost like a son had acted completely indifferent upon seeing the woman he liked.

Lucius, completely unaware that his actual son was bawling his eyes out somewhere, feeling betrayed by his own family, grumbled in disappointment.

Cardin replied shamelessly,
“Her Highness is a bit busy right now. So, aren’t you going to give me an engagement gift?”

Of course—Lucius clicked his tongue.

“Do you know how much tribute we’re sending to the Kingdom of Hayworth? Are you trying to milk me for more?”

“‘Milk you’? I offered to have the Grand Duchy handle the tribute, and you insisted on doing it yourself.”

Though his younger brother had received a title and established an independent household, Lucius had stepped up like a father marrying off his own child. He cleared his throat.

Then, as if there were no other option, he scribbled his signature on the document he’d been reviewing and handed it over.

“Here, take it.”

Cardin eagerly took the deed and smirked. It was the ownership transfer for the ruby mine in the central region—something he’d long coveted.

And Lucius dares to complain.

As Cardin began wondering what he could make for Anette using rubies from the mine—

“So, are you sure you want to delay the royal wedding? If you want, we can do it right away—”

“No need. Who knows what might happen next? It’s better to resolve things properly now. I can’t come running to you every time I switch bodies.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, I would.”

Cardin quickly cut in with a sigh.

“Honestly… I kind of think it worked out.”

“What? You’re not seriously—”

Lucius looked shocked.

Cardin frowned deeply.

“What are you imagining now?”

“Just kidding.”

Lucius casually shrugged with a deadpan expression, as if he hadn’t just made a terrible joke.

Cardin shook his head, amused, and continued,

“She said she’s been alone since she was really little. I can’t go back in time to take care of her then, but… while she’s in that form, I want to at least comfort her and look after her.”

Lucius nodded, touched.

He had teased, but he’d suspected that was the true reason.

The emotional shift made Cardin fidget awkwardly and say lightly,

“Well, in the end, I’m relaxed because I believe my honorable brother will fix everything.”

“…Hmph.”

Lucius, touched by that one sentence, felt his lingering resentment melt away and muttered, “Fox-like brat,” shaking his head.

“By the way, did Marquis Melin say he saw our princess?”

Cardin turned to Marquis Melin, the Captain of the Royal Guard standing silently beside them.

As Lucius’s closest aide and the one overseeing the protection of the most important royal figure—Anette—it was impossible for him not to know of her whereabouts.

The marquis nodded.

Cardin’s eyes gleamed with interest.

“I think she’s about the same age as your daughter, isn’t she?”

“She did seem that way to me as well.”

“Right? Then tell me—what does your daughter like best? I can only think of dolls or sweet desserts, and that’s it.”

“Ah…”

Marquis Melin hesitated, swallowing hard.

It wasn’t because he was a neglectful father. His daughter, Audrey, had been frail since childhood and spent most of her time indoors, resulting in tastes quite unlike a typical noble girl.

So it didn’t feel right to answer Cardin’s question about the continent’s greatest swordmaster with Audrey’s preferences.

Still, since he was asked, he was about to reply sincerely, “She loves books the most,” when—

“I thought your daughter liked our Mikhail the best.”

Lucius playfully jumped into the conversation.

“T-That’s not true!”

The marquis hastily denied it, though he knew full well how Audrey’s eyes sparkled whenever she saw the Crown Prince.

He countered out of sheer fatherly pride,

“Your Highness is the one overly fond of our Audrey!”

And so the two fathers began bickering about who liked whom more.

Cardin watched the scene with a dazed expression.

Honestly, from what I’ve seen, those two are completely obsessed with each other.

Just then, the ring on Lucius’s right thumb vibrated slightly.

“…!”

“…!”

Cardin and Lucius immediately locked eyes—

Then both turned their gaze out the window.

Straight toward the secret garden.

Everything happened in an instant.

There was no time to even doubt what she was seeing.

The earth shook, the tree swayed violently, and then it toppled, roots and all.

Without thinking, Anette sprang into action, dashing forward—

A crimson aura from her sword flashed like lightning through the dust and debris.

When the air finally cleared, only then did they realize the massive trunk, branches, and leaves were scattered without causing injury or destruction.

Mikhail stood there, stunned.

Just moments ago, he’d been crying in frustration, but now, having witnessed Anette’s inhuman strength, he had completely forgotten his sorrow and even the accident he’d unintentionally caused.

He murmured, awestruck,

“She… she ripped it apart.”

At that innocent, honest expression of amazement, Anette quietly retorted,

“…I didn’t rip it.”

“No, you did! You totally ripped it apart with your bare hands!”

“I didn’t use my hands. I had a dagger.”

“Oh my god, she tore a tree with her hands!”

“I cut it—neatly—with the dagger!”

True, she had torn apart monsters tougher than trees with her bare hands before…

But this time, she hadn’t. So she insisted.

Especially because she was very aware that both the Empress Dowager and Empress were within earshot.

Anette was uneasy. Of all things, the falling tree had tipped in the exact direction of the bushes where they were hiding, and she had reacted without thinking.

Thankfully, her reflexes and sword aura remained intact, so she was able to prevent any casualties—

But anyone who had seen her true power in the past, especially her fellow Royal Knights, had feared her.

They’d whispered things like “She must carry a monster’s seed” or “No normal human could do that.”

When she first joined the order, she’d endured scorn and rejection, but eventually found that fear was easier to tolerate.

But I don’t want that to happen again here.

For some reason, the Empress Dowager liked her quite a bit, and the Empress even considered herself a fan.

And yet, anxiety kept creeping in.

What if they say, ‘We didn’t know you were this monstrous?’
What if they thank me for saving them… but still don’t want me around?

Just imagining those expressions of fear or disgust in their eyes made Anette’s heart pound uncontrollably.

That’s why Mikhail’s exaggerated retelling was so troubling.

Sure, chopping a tree mid-fall with sword aura wasn’t exactly normal, but still—she had used a weapon. Maybe she could pass it off as barely unusual.

Besides, the tree’s size would’ve blocked their view, so maybe they didn’t see exactly what—

“I saw it! You zoomed in and went whoosh, then shaa-shaa-shaa!”

…Apparently, the overexcited little Crown Prince had no intention of helping her out here.

Like he was telling an epic story, he was enthusiastically embellishing every detail.

The problem was—
It wasn’t completely false.

Anette, unable to refute it, simply wiped away cold sweat from her brow.