Who Could Have Loved the Monster Princess? - Chapter 35

I barely reacted to Sean’s jokes anymore, which meant I’d probably make the same mistake again if I let my guard down. I wondered who had the bright idea to let Sean Onra participate in this tournament and completely break the balance — but I didn’t ask. It felt like a dangerous question.

Instead, I asked something I’d been curious about for a while.

“So there really is an Imperial flag hidden?”

If Sean was looking for it, it had to be the Imperial flag, the rarest and most coveted of them all. If he said he found it, then it must exist.

“Did you think it wouldn’t be there?”

“No one’s ever found it.”

Sean paused, thinking for a moment, then gave a small nod.

“Well, they say the darkest place is beneath the lamp.”

“Lamp?”

“I should hurry. Regretfully, I must take my leave. Until next time, Darling.”

“Ah, right. See you.”

No sooner had I responded than a holy symbol appeared at Sean’s feet, and in a shimmer of light, he vanished on the spot.

‘And that’s what I call cheating.’

Everyone had started to wonder if the Imperial flag was even real this year. Maybe that’s why they hid it in a more obvious spot. Judging by how Sean bolted off like that.

‘So this year’s Imperial flag belongs to the High Priest, huh.’

I shook my head and started walking again.

From the beginning, this whole tournament hinged on whether or not you had a mage backing you. That alone changed the entire difficulty curve.

The flags were hidden by Imperial mages. They’d study the map, pick a suitable location, and teleport the flags there based on the coordinates. Simple enough, except the maps they used were drawn before the war. Which meant some flags ended up draped across buildings that didn’t exist back then, or sunk beneath reservoirs that hadn’t been there a decade ago.

In other words, the real entertainment of this tournament was watching nobles drag themselves through the mud — sometimes literally.

The flags, of course, were protected by magic. No damage, no dirt. But for the poor soul trying to retrieve them, they might as well be cursed.

They were hard to find and rarely in a “normal” spot. If you didn’t have a mage or some enchanted tool, you were wasting your time.

‘Technically, I could find them, but…’

I couldn’t use magic, but I had mana sensitivity. If there was a trace of magic nearby, I could feel it, even without tools.

‘Once again, there’s some pretty powerful protective magic at the start of the tournament…. Protective magic…?’

My eyes swept across the estate garden.

I’d always assumed the barrier was just a precaution — standard fare in case of monsters or terrorists. Made sense, really. The flag hunt drew quite the crowd of nobles every year.

‘But… aren’t all the truly important family members waiting safely in the Imperial Palace for the results anyway?’

It had never occurred to me to question the protective spell cast over the estate. Father placed one over the Staedt manor, after all. Why wouldn’t there be one here?

But now… now that I thought about it, I couldn’t remember a single reason why the tournament grounds needed that level of enchantment.

“Well, they say the darkest place is beneath the lamp.”

‘No way…?’

I was just about to step into the garden when a small group exited from inside, forcing me to pause. The path was wide enough for five to walk arm in arm, but I was still the daughter of House Staedt. Naturally, I waited for them to step aside.

They didn’t.

Instead, they bowed and greeted me.

“Good day, Lady Staedt.”

“Eep!”

“Good day, my lady.”

…Was that a squeak?

I gave a faint nod in return, expecting them to step aside once the pleasantries were done. I took a step forward. They didn’t move.

Instead, they introduced themselves, like this was all part of some carefully choreographed little performance.

“Geoffrey Buser, at your service.”

He smiled as he spoke, but the tension in his face betrayed him. Odd.

“A pleasure,” I replied, keeping my voice flat.

That seemed to be the cue for Geoffrey to haul forward the man half-hidden behind him. The poor thing looked like he’d rather sink through the floor. His eyes flicked about wildly, avoiding mine entirely. Trembling. Pale.

‘Why does he look so familiar…? Wait. Of course.’

The one who fainted at the sight of me during the coming-of-age ceremony.

“Young Lord Little would like to apologize to you, my lady.”

“It doesn’t look that way.”

Not like an apology was forthcoming. If anything, Young Lord Little looked ready to faint on the spot. My words sent a fresh wave of horror through him, and he finally stammered out a response.

“I—I—I mean—m-my sincerest apol—”

The poor boy was shaking so visibly I half-expected him to start rattling.

Really, it was almost admirable. In a pitiful sort of way.

“Well, I’m sure you meant well. Now, if you’d kindly step aside.”

“But having wronged you, Young Lord Little hopes to be of help during the tournament, my lady.”

Said Geoffrey, as if that explained anything.

Judging by the hiccup that escaped Young Lord Little at that precise moment, I very much doubted he shared the sentiment.

‘Why is he pushing this quivering wreck at me like some kind of peace offering?’

They weren’t planning to move. That much was clear. I swept a glance over the still-crowded garden and decided to abandon the search for now.

‘I’ll come back later.’

With that, I turned from the quartet and headed off in the direction Bolt had gone, hoping to catch up with him.

But no, of course not. Now they were following me. Talking.

“It seems Young Lord Little has a bit of dessert lodged in his throat.”

What do you want me to do with that? Why are you following me? Do I even know this guy?

I didn’t bother answering. Just gave the one speaking a glance from the corner of my eye. Something about him itched at the back of my memory — almost familiar, almost not — but no, I was sure I’d never seen that face before.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever interacted with him enough for him to pretend to know me this well….’