Chapter 63
Martin, the imperial mage who had left the capital with them, had vanished without a trace after arriving at the Grand Duke’s estate—only to suddenly show up at her doorstep a few days ago, looking like death warmed over.
“Uh, wait… Martin?”
“Y-yes, it’s meeee. Have you been well, Princess…?”
His hair was a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes were so dark that if not for his imperial mage robe, she might not have recognized him at all.
When she barely managed to ask how he was doing, Martin confessed that he had locked himself up in the room Cardin had provided and done nothing but research. He then suddenly remembered something very important and asked Anette,
“Princess, do you happen to know when exactly your body changed? Even if it’s not exact, any physical sensation or reaction around the time that might help us pinpoint it?”
“Ah… now that you mention it… While I was riding toward the palace, I felt my heart heat up and my blood stir strangely. I didn’t feel much of a change while fighting the demonic beasts, but I had already turned into a child by the time I arrived, so I think it must’ve happened then.”
Upon hearing this, Martin clenched his fist and raised it dramatically into the air.
“Yes! That’s it! I knew it!”
After rambling to himself for a while in excitement, Martin finally calmed down and happily informed her that he would likely be able to complete the antidote soon—before disappearing once again like the wind.
‘He said he’d report it to Cardin too…’
Come to think of it, she never followed up on that.
She clearly remembered at first, but whenever she was with Cardin, her mind would spin, and she’d constantly get distracted, forgetting what she originally meant to say.
Still, shouldn’t he have brought it up himself?
Anette pouted slightly in disappointment.
‘Don’t tell me he actually likes that I’m still a kid?’
The way he’d taken to his caretaker role—tying her hair every day, cutting up her food before she could even apply the table manners she’d just learned—it was a theory that didn’t seem entirely off the mark.
‘And here I am, unable to even say I like him because of this body…’
She still hadn’t pierced her ears either, even though she’d promised herself to do it first thing after arriving at the Grand Duke’s estate.
Anette absentmindedly touched her smooth, unpierced earlobe.
She had tried to hint at it by admiring the empress dowager’s radiant emerald earrings, but everyone discouraged her, saying that piercing such small ears might result in mismatched placement once her body returned to normal.
“I can’t even pierce my own ears… How pathetic…”
“M-my lady…”
Startled by the voice, she turned to see Larisa, eyes welling up.
Having served Anette closely for some time, Larisa was sensitive to her moods—and clearly affected by her gloomy tone.
“It’s okay, Larisa. I didn’t mean it seriously.”
Anette quickly reassured her, saying the antidote would be complete soon, and she’d recover in no time.
Sniffling, Larisa tried to cheer up with a deliberately chipper voice.
“By the way, my lady, you fell asleep while writing your letter last night. Would you like to continue?”
Anette paused to think and shook her head.
As Cardin had said, she’d received letters from both Mikhail and the empress in addition to Audrey. Writing replies for the first time in her life took far longer than expected.
‘Well… not literally the first time, but still.’
She recalled how Cardin had grumbled that Lady Audrey had stolen the honor of sending the princess her very first letter—then asked Anette to write him one too.
Not knowing what to say, she had ended up filling half the page by praising the estate chef’s cooking.
He had been genuinely delighted by it.
‘Maybe after I send this one, I’ll write him another letter.’
Just imagining Cardin’s joyful reaction made her smile.
“Could you bring me the report Lady Hilda gave me last time?”
“Yes, my lady!”
Larisa dashed off at lightning speed and returned with a stack of documents.
“Thank you, Larisa.”
“Don’t mention it! If it helps you even a little, that’s the greatest honor of all!”
How could someone speak so sweetly?
At first, Anette had found Larisa’s way of talking awkward and embarrassing. But over time, she’d realized it was genuine—and now, she found it utterly endearing.
Unbeknownst to her, Larisa was simultaneously clutching her chest, internally squealing: My lady is so cute! She could destroy the continent!
And Anette had no idea that Larisa had been preaching her cuteness to every servant in the estate.
She turned her attention to the report.
It was a detailed breakdown from Lady Hilda of the estate’s entire staff roster, each individual’s role, current operations, and budget estimates.
‘I never imagined I’d be reviewing something like this before even getting married.’
Before Anette could say anything, Lady Hilda had already declared her the mistress of the estate and asked for her input, saying any unreasonable policies could be corrected immediately.
Her momentum was so strong that Anette realized her plan to slowly earn Cardin’s trust by showing mature insight into estate affairs had been ruined before it even began.
Still, she wasn’t upset.
Only Cardin could bestow such authority, so the fact that she had it meant he trusted her.
During her stay, Cardin had also kept his promise—helping her study etiquette and allowing her full access to the library.
It had been like a dream, diving into history, society, economics, literature, and art.
But then—what was his true intention behind such boundless kindness?
<Do regular demon beast hunts happen every few weeks here at the estate?>
<Then I suppose you must keep a large stock of purification stones?>
She remembered asking him those questions impulsively that morning.
The way his face froze and how he quickly excused himself made her realize something.
Resting her chin in her palm, Anette stared out the window, eyes darkening.
<I’m probably more familiar with the princess than she thinks.>
<My uncle talked about her a lot! …He said she’s the person he respects most in the world!>
Just as Cardin himself once said.
And just as Mikhail had hinted—
Anette had long suspected that she and Cardin had met somewhere long ago.
At first, she avoided the thought, afraid of what it might reveal. But the more she learned about who he truly was, the more she found herself thinking about it—day after day.
There’s always a cause behind every effect.
How many people would go so far as to say they respect her?
What had happened between them that allowed her—someone supposedly worlds apart from the Alcan imperial family—to form such a deep connection?
She had puzzled over it endlessly, yet Cardin’s identity remained a mystery.
Until he removed his mask and showed her his face.
That’s when the possibilities widened.
And Martin had also provided her a vital clue.
<Are you talking about transformation magic?>
<Yes. I was wondering if there’s a spell that changes how someone appears—not necessarily physically, but how they’re perceived.>
<Of course! There’s illusion magic, transformation spells… I-I mean… why are you asking…?>
Martin, previously full of confidence, had turned ghostly pale and broke into a cold sweat the moment he mentioned transformation magic.
Fearing he’d burst into tears if pressed, Anette let him go—but she had her answer.
Mages were rare across the continent, and magic wasn’t commonly used in daily life. So it was easy to overlook.
But for someone like the imperial family, who had their own court mage, using magic to disguise themselves wouldn’t be difficult.
That explained Cardin’s strange familiarity.
Though she couldn’t identify him right away—
Today, for the first time, Anette thought of someone he could be.
A mercenary who had suddenly appeared two years ago in a region she had been purging.
It was hard to believe that a war hero and Grand Duke of the Alcan Empire would disguise himself as a mercenary.
Naturally, Anette had assumed he was just one of the knights who came to see her.
But while she met dozens of knights, none had stayed for more than a few days.
Most of them were well-known holy knights or famous wandering swordsmen whose identities were easy to confirm.
Surely Cardin wouldn’t impersonate someone else.
And yet, as she went back over those forgotten faces—
Today, as she saw Cardin avoiding her eyes and staring at the ground…
And as she saw the redness welling in his eyes—
A memory of that man surfaced in her mind.
