Who Could Have Loved the Monster Princess? - Chapter 41
Most believed it would go to the previous lord’s nephew, Gwyne Bittern.
The mage, Gwyne Bittern.
As if on cue, Gwyne returned alongside one of the tournament officials and was warmly welcomed by a circle of familiar nobles.
They said he had found three flags on his own. Upon hearing this, the other nobles congratulated him as though the inheritance of the estate had already been decided.
“My lady, did you hear? He found three flags.”
“So I heard…”
The other candidates had also made their return. Ramelo Bittern, a cousin of the late lord, had found two.
The rest, it seemed, either returned empty-handed or had merely assisted other nobles in their flag searches in exchange for compensation.
All the officials had returned on time, and the closing bell of the tournament rang out — long and heavy.
Those who had been chatting in small groups stood in silence, dispersing to take their seats again.
That was when I noticed a child, previously hidden among the crowd of adults, already seated quietly.
‘A child of House Bittern?’
The girl wore a plain dress, simple enough that she could easily be mistaken for a commoner.
‘Wasn’t she the daughter born of the late lord’s last wife?’
The former lord had claimed it would be too difficult to evacuate with a heavily pregnant woman in tow, and so he fled with his grown children, leaving the woman behind at the estate. Ironically, it was the abandoned child who survived.
I’d heard reports that, once the lord went missing, the girl and her mother, being of common birth, had been cast out of the manor and had lived as commoners ever since. Her presence here seemed purely ceremonial.
‘And yet…’
The figure standing behind the girl caught my eye. There was something familiar about them. They wore a worn robe that shrouded them from head to toe, revealing nothing but a single right hand grasping a staff.
‘That’s Sean, isn’t it?’
I had no idea what he was doing there.
‘Don’t tell me… that not-quite-girlfriend he mentioned is five-year-old Dahliana Bittern?’
Just then, a trumpet sounded signalling the Emperor’s arrival. Carnelian was with him.
The Emperor took his place at the head of the hall and gazed down at the gathered crowd. At the sound of the trumpets, everyone bowed low in unison toward him.
“May the Light of Latropole shine eternal!”
“May the Light of Latropole shine eternal!”
The Emperor smiled in satisfaction and gestured magnanimously for us to be seated.
Behind him, standing slightly apart, was Carnelian with his gaze fixed on me. Our eyes met.
‘…What is it now?’
For some reason, he wore the look of a man betrayed, as if I’d personally abandoned him at a burning port.
‘What did I do…?’
Come to think of it, while he was handling the aftermath of the incident, I’d already returned to the palace.
‘Come on, if he had something to say, he could’ve just asked me to wait.’
Ah, he had said he wanted to talk. And I… didn’t wait.
Carnelian furrowed his brow, shook his head, then nodded. He was clearly trying to communicate something, though what exactly he meant was utterly beyond me. While the Emperor’s son flailed about behind him like a poorly rehearsed stage actor, His Majesty deigned to speak with practiced grandeur.
“You all seem to be enjoying yourselves. As the one who arranged this tournament, I must say that I’m quite pleased. May everyone walk away this year with what they most desire. And I hear there’s an added delight this time around?”
The tournament overseer answered at once.
“Yes, Your Majesty. In the wake of Lord Bittern’s disappearance, several promising heirs have tested their networks, talents, and luck through this contest.”
“Bittern is a land I hold in deep affection,” the Emperor mused, as if sharing a cherished secret. “I am most curious to see who will take the reins.”
The overseer bowed low to show his solemn acceptance of the Emperor’s words, then gestured toward the platform prepared for those who had retrieved the flags.
“Would the candidates for the Lordship of Bittern please step forward!”
Only two did so with any confidence.
Dahliana, casting a panicked glance around the room, didn’t seem to realize she was expected to join them.
The rest of the candidates, save for the three, couldn’t even rise from their seats. It seemed the nobles who had promised to support them had conveniently withdrawn their favor. No one dared cause a full commotion under the Emperor’s gaze, but the sound of quiet disputes echoed from every corner.
Many nobles were already murmuring that Gwyne Bittern would be the next lord.
“Young Lord Gwyne is sure to become Lord of Bittern.”
“Indeed. Sir Ramelo may have the stronger network, but in terms of future prospects, surely he falls short.”
I stared vaguely into the distance, watching mountains blur into sky.
‘Future prospects? Compared to a five-year-old?’
She might not yet be old enough to rule a domain, but she had Sean behind her. And what future could possibly outshine Sean?
