Having a Body Like This Isn’t Entirely a Bad Thing
“What in the world! Rubellino is practically synonymous with Sir Hayworth! Do you even understand how important a sword is to a knight?!”
Unaware of Anette’s confused gaze, Charlotte burst out in indignation. Then, realizing how emotional she’d gotten, she flushed and shyly confessed.
“Sorry, I got too worked up. Actually, I’m a huge admirer of Sir Hayworth.”
“Oh, I see, an admirer… Wait, what?”
Did I hear that right?
Anette flinched, doubting her ears.
But looking at the Empress—who earnestly said she had always wanted to meet her—confirmed that she had, indeed, heard correctly.
“An admirer…?”
She knew there were knights out there who ardently admired some of the more well-known warriors—occasionally seeking her out to spar. But that someone like her would have such a fan, and that it would be the Empress of Alcan no less, was beyond her imagination. Anette’s face went blank from the shock.
“Now that I think about it, she has been calling me ‘Sir Hayworth’ from the very beginning.”
Realizing that, she suddenly felt a tingling sensation at her fingertips and toes.
Then Charlotte tilted her head and asked, “By the way, how did you manage to fight off a demonic beast without your sword?”
At that moment, Anette’s red eyes flashed sharply.
Before recounting the battle, something more important came to mind.
With a grave expression, she turned to Lucius.
“Before I explain that, I have something to tell you first. Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but I believe there’s someone in Hayworth Kingdom colluding with the Bayendor Empire.”
When Anette appeared covered in demonic beast blood, the Alcan royal family naturally assumed that the Hayworth delegation had been attacked, and Anette had barely survived to reach the Empire.
Strictly speaking, that wasn’t untrue—but it also wasn’t the full story.
Anette remembered clearly that what had stopped their carriage was an arrow.
A single shot aimed straight at her.
No more arrows had followed—perhaps to leave no trace, or for reasons she didn’t fully understand, possibly because the beast attack had been anticipated.
“It was without a doubt one of Bayendor’s red arrows.”
Unfortunately, she hadn’t brought her weapons with her, so she’d had no choice but to use that very arrow to fight the beast.
And after a few swings, it shattered completely—causing Anette to feel responsible for the loss of crucial evidence.
What’s more…
“The Alcan Empire didn’t know I and the Hayworth delegation were en route. Which means the information leaked from Hayworth.”
The fact that she’d been sent in haste with barely a proper delegation was already humiliating. Now with the possibility of a traitor in the kingdom, it was clear—this was all Hayworth’s doing.
As she had held her head high before as a princess, Anette now bowed it with the same sense of duty and shame.
‘They’ll probably hold Hayworth accountable. Maybe even cancel the alliance…’
If that happened, she’d have to do something to change their minds…
“So you’re saying they abandoned the princess and ran?”
“They really fought a demonic beast with just an arrow? And then what—bare hands?”
…Wait a minute.
The Emperor and Empress’s reactions were… far from what she expected.
Caught off guard, Anette finally replied, “Those assigned to protect me weren’t strong enough to face a demonic beast. And since we were near its swamp, more kept coming. Even if they had fled, there’s no guarantee they’d have survived…”
“Still, abandoning their duty is inexcusable. We’ll formally protest to the Hayworth Kingdom. As for Bayendor’s involvement, while we currently lack hard evidence, we’ll investigate separately—so don’t worry. The timing of that attack is far too suspicious…”
Lucius, his expression thoughtful, verified the delegation’s route with Anette, then smoothly changed the subject.
“Also, as you mentioned, if information leaked, we’ll only notify Hayworth that you were injured but safely reached the Empire.”
“What? I-I see. Then… what about the alliance?”
Even with Hayworth’s blunders laid bare, they were just going to move past it?
Just lodging a protest over the guards abandoning her?
At a loss for words, Anette opened her mouth, then closed it tightly again.
Lucius chuckled. “Princess. While the marriage contract isn’t officially notarized, you’ve already signed it. That makes you practically a member of the Alcan royal family. There’s no need to worry.”
“…”
Though born a princess, Anette had never been treated like royalty. She recalled Lucius calling her family without hesitation and Charlotte suggesting they grow close—because they’d soon be one family.
A strange feeling swept over her.
She couldn’t help but start to hope.
‘Maybe the Grand Duke really was out subjugating monsters, and not just making excuses…’
“Leave matters of Bayendor and Hayworth to His Majesty. You should focus on recovering. Understood?”
“Huh? Ah… Yes.”
Pulled from her thoughts by Charlotte’s voice, Anette nodded vaguely.
That’s right. Whatever the cause, she needed to return to her original body. She felt overwhelmed just thinking about it.
“But still, having your body like this isn’t entirely a bad thing.”
“What?”
“When you collapsed and were brought in, the palace physician examined you. Aside from a few bruises, you had no major injuries! Just fatigue. With rest and medicine, you’ll recover completely!”
“…Really?”
Seeing Anette blink cluelessly, Charlotte clapped her hands together and exclaimed.
“That means your hand is healed too! You can wield a sword again!”
‘I can… wield a sword again?’
Anette stared blankly at her.
She’d hoped—just a little—that her hand might fully heal.
But it had always felt more like a wish than reality.
“Is that… really true?”
When she asked again in a daze, Charlotte nodded with a beaming smile.
“Isn’t that wonderful?”
Anette nodded along numbly.
She had been shocked to find her pain gone, but to discover even her injured hand had recovered…
She stared at her left hand—once deeply scarred, now smooth.
Maybe becoming a child again wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
The journey to Alcan had been rough, but ever since waking up, it felt like only good things were happening.
She couldn’t help but wonder what the Hayworth royal family would say when they heard about this.
‘Well… not that it has anything to do with me anymore.’
As Lucius said, she had already signed the marriage contract.
Once notarized by the temple, she would officially become part of Alcan’s royal family. That would likely happen before news of her recovery ever reached Hayworth.
‘They were probably just looking for a reason to discard me after the injury anyway.’
So even if she returned fully healed, there’d be no one happy to see her.
They might even accuse the demonic beasts of casting strange spells again because of her current appearance.
Feeling bitter, Anette shook her head to rid herself of the sour mood—then suddenly looked up.
She had just realized something: not once had the Alcan Emperor or Empress treated her like some cursed being.
And at that very moment, she caught a strange sight.
Lucius and Charlotte, who had been smiling broadly, suddenly tensed and hastily composed their expressions.
It was brief—but unmistakable.
That look of pure adoration—like when Queen Esther doted on her youngest, Laon, or when Bridget played with her cherished cat.
‘…Were they looking at me?’
Until now, everyone Anette had met either openly disdained her, obeyed reluctantly, or occasionally challenged her to spar out of pride.
Even her brother Franz always carried an air of guilt.
The idea that someone could look at her with genuine affection had never even occurred to her.
Thinking maybe someone else was behind her, she quickly turned around.
Of course, no one was there.
The Empress had dismissed everyone from the banquet hall once the food was prepared.
‘So they really were looking at me?’
No way.
Half in doubt, half surprised, Anette turned back again—and once more caught them scrambling to straighten their softened expressions.
She told herself she must be mistaken.
But that was the real mistake.
Lucius and Charlotte were raising a son about the same age Anette appeared to be—seven or eight. Compared to their wild child, Anette’s calm, serious demeanor made her incredibly endearing.
Lucius, who had practically raised his 12-year-old younger brother, found girls her age unfamiliar but fascinating.
“…She’s probably around seven?”
“No, I’d say ten.”
Anette corrected him, having caught his muttered remark.
She had estimated her current age by looking in the mirror and gauging the length of her limbs while bathing.
Charlotte immediately disagreed.
“No way. She’s about the same height as our Mikhail. And Mikhail is actually small for his age.”
“Mikhail…?”
Wasn’t that the crown prince of the Alcan Empire?
Who had just turned eight recently?
Anette’s expression subtly stiffened in indignation.