MFTR 95

Chapter 95

The confession he had hidden inside the doll—set so it would only play after pressing its belly a hundred times—had already been revealed, and now on top of that, he was hearing Anette say she loved him. The sight felt far too unreal.

Cardin drew in a long, deep breath, then exhaled.

“It seems this dream is a terribly long one.”

If it wasn’t a dream, then how could he possibly explain the string of things happening now—things he had only ever desperately wished for?

At that moment, Anette, who had come to understand a little of how his thoughts worked, quietly stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Looking up at him, she said softly:

“It’s not a dream.”

“……”

“Nor is it a delusion.”

Cardin looked down with trembling eyes at Anette, who smiled up at him so prettily while her warmth encircled his waist.

He was reflected in her eyes like starlight—shining with dazzling affection.

“…It’s real.”

At last, the realization burst from his lips like a sigh.

“It wasn’t a delusion. Nor a dream.”

Suddenly, he felt heat sting his eyes.

He bit his lips hard, unwilling to show the disgrace of tears. His face, flushed red from holding them back, he wiped with a rough hand several times.

Even though Anette had told him that no matter what kind of man he was, he seemed handsome and lovable to her, he still wanted to hide his face, which was twisting up so miserably.

Cardin was a man whose very essence was confidence, someone used to being showered with affection—but Anette was always the one exception.

“I thought perhaps I’d never be loved to the end…”

And yet she loved him.

It was almost impossible to believe, and yet that only made him more overjoyed, more ecstatic.

No words in the world could capture this happiness.

“I love you, Princess…”

Unable to hold in the swelling of his chest, the confession slipped out.

Samuel had once teased him, saying that once he confessed, he wouldn’t be able to stop. But in truth, Cardin had been holding back his emotions so much that Samuel’s words were laughably wrong.

And now, there was nothing left to hold him back.

In a voice giddy with lightness, his whole being adrift, Cardin confessed:

“With all my heart, I love you more than my own life.”

Of course, Anette had already heard his heart through the doll, but hearing it said aloud, face to face, struck her differently. Her chest swelled as she smiled brightly.

“I truly like you very much too, Your Highness.”

The words still felt almost like a lie, but when she gazed into his eyes filled with such clear affection, she had no choice but to believe them as truth.

Cardin looked at her, then let out a sound like air escaping a deflated balloon, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

All this time, he thought he’d never once taken his eyes off his princess. But when it came to the most important thing—her feelings—he had been too afraid to face them properly.

Even those brief, wasted moments seemed pitiful and regrettable, but even such regret felt like an undeserved blessing.

In days past, he had missed her endlessly. If she appeared in his dreams, he was blissfully happy, as though fortune itself had come to him.

Then he would wake and realize it wasn’t real—those countless days of emptiness and bitterness.

Just seeing her from afar had been enough, just existing in the same space had satisfied him. But now…

“Princess.”

Cardin’s blue eyes, hazy and dazed, blinked slowly as he cupped Anette’s cheek tenderly.

The atmosphere thickened abruptly, and though Anette tensed, she too had been waiting for this moment. She closed her eyes slowly.

Their lips were about to touch when—

Knock, knock, knock!

A frantic knock startled them both, making them leap apart.

Cardin’s face darkened instantly as he realized the interruption.

“Who the hell…?”

His voice dripped with irritation. Anette burst out laughing despite herself, though she sympathized with him inwardly.

If it turned out to be something trivial, Cardin looked ready to tear someone apart. He yanked the door open.

The moment he saw his aide standing there, he nearly snapped—but Samuel spoke first:

“Forgive the intrusion, but the guests in the annex are causing an uproar, demanding to see Her Highness here in the main castle.”

“His Lordship has granted permission for you to enter the main castle. Please follow me.”

The butler, Hubert, who had been blocking Zeon and Luke at the entrance, sighed heavily as a servant whispered the message into his ear.

Knights who had been standing by, prepared to clash if necessary to prevent forced entry, moved aside in unison.

Watching this, Zeon’s brow furrowed briefly before his expression went blank.

“Are we going straight to see the princess?”

“…I will guide you for now.”

The butler hesitated at the mention of Anette’s name, then turned his back and led the way.

Zeon stood still for a moment, watching him, until Luke tilted his head and asked:

“Aren’t you going?”

“…Let’s go.”

Zeon clenched his fists tighter and began walking heavily.

In truth, neither of them had intended to storm into the main castle like this, demanding to see Anette after just one day.

But—

“Ha, thanks to the princess, I barely survived.”

While scouting the ducal castle’s atmosphere under the pretense of a walk, Zeon had overheard Martin, the court magician, muttering to himself. In that instant, the plans he had carefully laid collapsed.

“Still, His Grace seems absolutely furious… no matter if she’s a princess, will she really be all right…?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Ack! Who are you?!”

“That doesn’t matter. Explain what you just said. Clearly.”

Martin, trembling at Zeon’s sudden intimidation, clamped his mouth shut, insisting on keeping the secret. But that very reaction only convinced Zeon that something had indeed happened to Anette.

Then Luke, who had come out upon hearing the commotion, realized the duke’s claim—that Anette was bedridden and ill—was a lie. He snapped.

The two of them concluded that Anette must be imprisoned or in some peril at the duke’s hands, and so they rushed here, intent on seeing her at all costs.

Seeing Hubert and the knights stand so obstinately in their way only strengthened their conviction that something grave had happened.

And so, when the butler suddenly reversed his stance and began to lead them inside, Zeon’s eyes sharpened.

“The atmosphere here feels… different from yesterday.”

Luke, glancing about, whispered quietly.

Indeed, the strict composure of the castle staff had shifted—now they seemed distracted, almost restless.

Several times, Zeon and Luke spotted servants gathering to whisper, only to scatter hastily when spotted.

At first, they thought it was due to their earlier uproar. But the longer it went on, the more convinced they became that it wasn’t that at all.

Something had definitely happened inside the castle.

And surely, it had to do with Anette.

Their intuition was correct.

The truth was, word had spread among the staff that their lady, Anette, had finally returned to her true form from that of a child. Excitement rippled through the ducal household.

Even Hubert and Madam Hilda, who had spoken so calmly to Anette herself—“You’ve suffered so much, my lady.” “Now, you can focus only on preparing for the royal marriage.”—had erupted into near-silent cheers of joy once she turned her back.

That was how deeply moved they were to finally behold their duchess properly.

Some had even felt wistful at losing the cute, childlike figure forever—but upon hearing how breathtakingly beautiful their lady had become, they too were filled with anticipation.

Thus, the servants had been loitering here and there, hoping for just a glimpse as she passed.

But Zeon and Luke knew none of this as they followed down the corridor.

“Please wait here. My lady will be here shortly.”

Halting before the same reception room as yesterday, Hubert opened the door.

“…My lady?”

Zeon froze, and Luke’s eyes widened in shock.

Then, for the first time, Hubert allowed a note of pride into his voice.

“Yes. The royal marriage may not yet be official, but all of us in House Harzent already call Her Highness our lady, and serve her with all devotion. Now then, I shall take my leave.”

Before they could ask further, the butler bowed and hurried off.

Luke’s face was torn between disbelief and doubt.

“Was he telling the truth?”

“…We’ll know when we see her.”

Zeon forced calm into his tone, though his teeth were clenched. He strode into the room.

Another wave of unease swept over him.

His chest ached with tension, as though a needle were pricking inside.

He sat on the sofa, fixing his gaze on the floor, forcing himself to breathe evenly.

Then—

“C-Captain…?!”

A high-pitched voice rang out, almost like a scream.

There was only one person Luke would call “Captain.” Anette.

Even knowing that, Zeon dared not look up too quickly, afraid she might vanish like a mirage if he did. Slowly, he raised his head.

And then he understood why Luke had been so stunned.

Standing in the doorway was a woman.

No longer in her worn knight’s uniform, but clad in a luxurious dress of deep green silk.

Her hair, once tied high, now flowed down, neatly braided over one shoulder…

It was exactly how Zeon had imagined she would look if she had been born and raised as a true princess.

It was Anette.