The Princess Will Surely Be Happy
While Anette was fighting the beasts, the ones tasked with escorting her to the imperial palace of the Arkan Empire abandoned their duty and fled.
But whether they managed to safely return to the kingdom while evading the endless stream of beasts was… uncertain.
Even Anette herself had ended up a complete wreck, forced to fight the beasts barehanded after her weapon broke.
Fortunately, she defeated them all and managed to find her fleeing horse, now galloping toward the Arkan capital.
But her back, left leg, and right arm were badly wounded, and her whole body was drenched in beast blood.
As a result, her body was burning with fever, and the pain was becoming unbearable. It hurt so much she couldn’t even scream.
‘Even if this is near the Beast Swamp… how could they have swarmed like they were after me on purpose?’
Suspicion rose in her mind, but whether from her serious injuries or the beast’s blood—or perhaps her unnaturally fast-beating heart—Anette couldn’t continue the thought.
She had yet to realize the changes occurring in her own body.
So she didn’t question why her dress hem, even after being torn, still seemed too long, or why the hood on her cloak felt so heavy. She simply pushed the hood back as it kept obstructing her vision.
The Kingdom of Hayworth and the Arkan Empire bordered each other, so the trip should have taken only two days by carriage.
Since she’d already traveled a day and was now riding by horse, she estimated the imperial palace wasn’t far.
Sure enough, as dawn broke, she saw the outer wall of the palace.
Perhaps it was the relief that made her lower her guard.
Her body, pushed past its limits, lost balance and fell from the horse just before reaching her destination.
The guards at the towering gate rushed over with horrified faces.
Anette pulled out the envelope she’d never let go of since leaving the royal palace.
“Please… deliver this… to His Majesty…”
Inside was the engagement contract, signed by her own hand.
“I am Anette Hayworth of…”
Just as she was about to declare herself as Princess of Hayworth, her breath caught and her strength gave out.
Though the document alone wouldn’t be enough to prove her identity, Anette wasn’t worried.
Her bright red hair and eyes—binding her since birth—would prove everything.
For the first time, she felt grateful for them, and then lost consciousness.
“How could a beast’s offspring be born from the queen?!”
Twenty-four years ago.
The King of Hayworth had recoiled in horror upon seeing newborn Anette.
Her hair and eyes were unnaturally vivid and red—an ominous color feared across the continent.
The lands of the southern Arkan Empire, the Kingdom of Hayworth, and the northern Bayendor were separated by a vast forest known as the Swamp of Beasts.
The blood of beasts dwelling there was highly toxic to humans.
Those exposed had to cleanse their bodies thoroughly and be purified in a temple within a month.
Otherwise, they would usually die. Those who survived were often left with twisted, blackened skin, or their eyes would turn beast-red and they’d go mad.
No one on the continent was unaware of this.
So when the King of Hayworth saw his newborn daughter with those crimson eyes, he was appalled.
And to have red hair too?
Hayworth royalty had always been born with beautiful silver hair. The King often boasted about his and his son Franz’s silver locks.
But Anette’s hair couldn’t be traced back to even her maternal lineage, the ducal House of Ricello—an extremely rare color across the entire continent.
“This is an omen! Misfortune has come upon us!”
When the virtuous and lovely queen died shortly after giving birth to a child with red eyes and hair, the King poured all his rage onto Anette.
Despite no trace of a red-haired man being found near the Queen, the King refused to acknowledge Anette as his child and accused her of being a cursed spawn of a beast.
Rumors soon spread that the Queen had lain with a beast.
Though he eventually tried to silence the rumors, he never took back what he said about Anette.
To maintain appearances, he acknowledged her as a princess—but banished her to a distant annex far from the main palace, saying he couldn’t bear to look at a single strand of her hair.
That annex was no place for a newborn. It was essentially a death sentence.
Anette’s birth even impacted her older brother Franz, the rightful heir born to the King and Queen.
Until then, Franz had been treated with great care. But after his mother’s death, he was forced to leave the crown prince’s quarters and live elsewhere.
And everyone in the palace knew the reason the King became so cold to his children was Queen Esther.
She had nursed the King back to life after his grief drove him into despair.
Esther, once a handmaid to the late Queen, became the King’s favorite and, after giving birth to Brigitte, was made Queen.
With a new queen in the palace and the King ignoring his eldest daughter, even the servants began to mock and mistreat Anette.
If not for Sarah—a close aide to the late Queen and Franz’s wet nurse—Anette might have grown up unable to read or write, or perhaps died long ago.
“I’m sorry, Nanny. It’s all my fault…”
Little Anette always felt sorry for Sarah, who suffered in the annex because of her.
If she could just be with her brother Franz, Sarah wouldn’t have to endure all this hardship.
Terrified by the maids’ gossip that she was truly the cursed spawn of a beast, Anette suffered nightmares every night.
Sarah was the only one who stayed by her side.
Feeling pity for the girl who wouldn’t even meet her gaze, Sarah always held her small hand gently and said,
“Princess, you will surely be happy. So please, no matter how painful or hard it gets, you must endure.”
She always said it with conviction.
That Anette was not born to die in that annex. That she would find happiness.
But not long after Anette turned seven, Sarah passed away.
It wasn’t a terrible illness. Just a cold from the night chill that turned into pneumonia.
With no firewood, no doctor, and no medicine, she died quietly.
After that, Anette lived alone in the annex, with only the occasional visit from her sickly brother Franz.
And seven years later, she approached the King and asked to join the beast-slaying campaign.
She would rather die doing something meaningful than waste away in confinement.
Naturally, the King was furious to see her appear without permission.
A mere 14-year-old girl asking to hunt beasts? He saw it as a cry for attention.
But then he changed his mind—perhaps the cursed girl dying in battle would be for the best. So he allowed her to join the royal knights.
He never imagined that seven years later, she’d be called the greatest swordswoman on the continent.
“But that grand title means nothing now with these injuries…”
Half-conscious and feverish, Anette felt a deep emptiness and sorrow.
She had endured just like Sarah said—so why hadn’t happiness come?
When she first joined the beast hunts, she’d felt proud to finally be doing something meaningful.
But that joy didn’t last.
Killing and killing, the same days repeating—eventually, she couldn’t tell whether she was human or a beast herself.
“You lied to me, Nanny…”
Anette was startled by her own words, muttered like a child’s complaint.
After Sarah’s death, her words and emotions had gradually disappeared.
And when she became a knight, things worsened.
One moment of hesitation could cost her life, so she trained herself to suppress all feeling—until even her emotions seemed to vanish.
And yet, here she was, feeling so bitter and wronged.
“Like I’ve turned into a child again…”
“My beloved daughter.”
It was then—
“My precious baby, you’re going to be an incredible person.”
A voice she’d never heard before struck Anette like lightning.
Soft and kind words whispered in her ears.
“I know. My daughter is stronger and more amazing than anyone.”
“M-Mother? Don’t go… huh!”
Anette, crying out, suddenly groaned and opened her eyes.
Her entire body ached like she’d been beaten all over.
But her consciousness remained heavy despite the pain.
“That voice I just heard…”
Surely it was a dream—an illusion.
After all, newborns and fetuses can’t possibly remember their mother’s words.
Drip.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
She thought she couldn’t cry anymore after Sarah died—but now she wept.
It felt ridiculous, dreaming something like that at 24 years old.
“I’m sure she must hate me…”
She thought of the kind voice, whom she instinctively called “Mother.”
But that queen had died giving birth to her, gotten wrapped in foul rumors because of her—surely she must have resented Anette.
Just like her father, the King of Hayworth.
“……”
Remembering how the King always scowled at her as if she disgusted him, her mind finally cleared like a splash of cold water.
Anette blinked up at a luxurious ceiling, then quickly sat up at the soft sensation surrounding her.
Looking around the lavish bedroom, she realized she was in the imperial palace of the Arkan Empire.
“Ah… thank go—huh?”
Just as she sighed in relief, confident the engagement contract had been verified…
Her voice sounded strange.
She assumed it was from exhaustion. But the warm, soft blanket felt unusually heavy too…
Frowning, she pulled the blanket down to her chest.
And froze.
“…Wh-What the—?”
Why had her body become smaller?