Home/The Prince died, so we're starting over!/ch14

Episode 14

"Well... if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. Now then, Your Highness. Shall we start playing with blocks?"

"...Blocks? You actually want to build blocks?"

"Of course. Our lives are like blocks, after all."

I'd tossed it out as a joke, but the Third Prince's response was ice-cold.

Brr. Is this what they call a generation gap?

My friends from long ago used to love my jokes, but kids these days are so cold...

Pushing aside the awkwardness, I poured the blocks onto the bare floor.

The hard blocks clattered loudly against the wooden floor.

But no matter how long I waited, the door didn't rattle.

"Good. It seems no one's outside. Now, let's get down to business."

Only then did I pull out the contract I'd hidden in my pocket.

"...What is this?"

"What do you think? It's what you gave me yesterday."

"That's not what I gave you..."

The Third Prince blinked his large eyes repeatedly at the contract I'd handed him.

With the nimble hands of a squirrel finding a chestnut, he snatched it up and read it over and over.

By the time the long hand of the large wall clock had moved a full ten ticks, the Third Prince clapped his hands and exclaimed.

"...This is the clearest document I've ever seen! Remarkable!"

"Really? It's not actually well-written, though."

Contracts were supposed to be long-winded affairs, filled with difficult terminology designed to deceive the other party.

I swallowed the unspoken truth that I had no obligation to share with the Third Prince.

The innocent prince seemed utterly fascinated by the modern document format he was seeing for the first time, unable to tear his eyes away.

"Ah! But there's one thing I don't understand."

"Ask away."

"What do these terms 'Party A' and 'Party B' mean?"

"Ah... 'Party A' and 'Party B'?"

"Yes. I've never heard them in the capital. Is it some kind of Lulupel dialect?"

Oh dear. I'd expected him to ask about other minor things—I hadn't anticipated him digging straight into the core.

I rolled my eyes searching for an excuse, then lied without even wetting my lips.

"Those are pet names."

"...Pet names?"

"Yes. We're going to be engaged, even if only formally, so isn't a pet name necessary? To make it look like a faithful engagement to others, after all."

"...That does make sense."

The Third Prince blushed and nodded meekly and innocently.

For some reason, he seemed pleased...

With his face flushed all the way to the tip of his nose, the Third Prince posed his next question.

"Um, I have another question. Hmm..."

"It's fine. Ask me anything."

"...D-do you want a h-happy en-engagement life with me?"

This question was also sharp.

I'd secretly hoped he'd just let it slide, but the Third Prince missed none of the traps I'd laid.

I clicked my tongue softly. Still, this question was one I'd prepared an answer for.

"That's just a formality."

"...A formality?"

"Yes. Like marriage vows. At weddings, everyone promises to be faithful to each other for life, but in the end, almost no one keeps that promise, right? It's the same thing."

"...I see."

The Third Prince's face, which had seemed slightly bright just a moment ago, was suddenly filled with gloom.

What? Was that not the answer he wanted?

My mind began to race.

The Third Prince had clearly said he'd come all the way to Lulupel seeking someone who wouldn't love him.

That wasn't ancient history—it was just yesterday, so my memory couldn't be wrong.

He needed someone who wouldn't love him. That meant the Third Prince had no interest in a happy engagement life either, didn't it?

"Wasn't it Your Highness who said he didn't particularly want a happy engagement either?"

"...Yes, I don't covet such things."

"Then why that expression?"

"...Is there something strange about my expression?"

"No, well, it's not strange so much as..."

A disappointed look? A bitter look? A resigned look?

I couldn't find the right words to describe it.

How could an eight-year-old make such a complex, subtle expression? ...But that was the female lead's concern.

This wasn't my problem.

Instead of continuing my sentence, I searched for something else to say.

"So now we just need to sign this, right?"

Before I could choose my words, the Third Prince broke the silence first.

He pulled a fountain pen from his breast pocket, took it in hand, and immediately scrawled his signature across the contract.

Did princes practice their signatures separately or something?

His signature was as grand and ornate as befitted his royal status.

Yes, it was grand, but...

"Wait a moment!"

"Yes?"

"You can't just sign it right away!"

"Is there a problem?"

"You have to read it all first!"

"I have read it all."

"Are you sure you read every single clause carefully? Even this one here—about not harming me?"

I hastily stopped the Third Prince and pointed to the bottom of the contract.

There, in red ink, was written: Party B shall not, under any circumstances, engage in any action that could threaten Party A.

And below that, even a proviso that this clause must be observed even after the contract term expired.

I'd expected the Third Prince to at least mention this unfair clause before moving on.

But he simply said he'd read everything thoroughly and signed the remaining copy as well.

"Once you sign, it's final! No taking it back later!"

"Yes, I have no intention of taking it back."

"...Are you absolutely sure you read it all?"

"Don't worry too much. Even without being asked, I had intended to ensure that no harm would come to you, Lady Lulupel."

"Excuse me? Harm?"

What I'd stipulated wasn't about harm coming to me—it was about not threatening or endangering my life.

Saying he'd ensure I suffered no harm was slightly different from what I'd written.

It almost sounded as if... the Third Prince himself was anticipating trouble coming his way.

I furrowed my brow in puzzlement.

But the Third Prince offered no further explanation—he merely held out the pen to me.

"Now, you sign too, Lady Lulupel."

"Hmm..."

"Hurry."

"Yes, well..."

Pushing aside the uneasy feeling, I signed my name on the blank space above where the Third Prince had signed.

Whatever the Third Prince's circumstances were, it wasn't my concern.

In the original story, Hariella and the Third Prince were past the age of majority.

That meant there would be no major life-threatening incidents during this engagement period.

I'd just let things flow for now, and once that Cal-something young duke became the Northern Grand Duke, I'd keep my head down—wouldn't that solve everything?

If Hariella didn't take an interest in the Northern Grand Duke, neither the male lead nor the female lead would have any reason to cause trouble for me or the Third Prince.

Unless, after the original story began, some kind of plot-forced compulsion took over and dictated people's actions—but even that wasn't something to worry about right now.

The answer was obvious, yet somehow my heart felt unsettled.

Tilting my head, I signed the remaining copy of the contract.

"...With this, the contract is concluded."

"Not yet."

"Excuse me?"

"Did you throw away the contract I gave you before?"

"No, I still have it, but..."

I'd hoped he wouldn't ask about that either...

I fumbled in my pocket and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper.

When I pulled it out and handed it to him, the Third Prince looked quite taken aback.

"...Was there something wrong with my contract?"

"No, it's not that... Haha. Things just turned out that way."

"...I see. It seems a lot happened."

The Third Prince stared at his now-rags of a contract for a moment in dismay.

Then he peeled off a round emblem-like seal that had been stuck to the crumpled paper.

"It's all right. What matters isn't the contract—it's this."

"What is it?"

"An emblem enchanted with magic."

"Magic?"

"Yes. Several spells are cast on it, but the most notable one is a spell that forces the contracting parties never to break the agreement."

"Oh, I see..."

Wait a minute... Forces?

This smells a bit like a scam.

I reached out belatedly, but the Third Prince, with his innocent-looking face, was faster in attaching the emblem to our new contract.

The moment the emblem touched the paper, my signature, the Third Prince's signature, and the seal on the emblem all glowed with a blue light.

"...This, this magic you mentioned—the one that keeps you from breaking the contract? What happens if you break it?"

"Why are you worried about that? Are you planning to break it?"

"No, it's not that, but I should know just in case!"

Hiding something intentionally from the other party makes it an unfair contract!

Of course, I'd hidden a few poison-pill clauses of my own, but this was different.

Even as I panicked, the Third Prince remained perfectly composed.

"Indeed. Hmm... If either you or I violate any clause in this contract, I suppose lightning will strike."

"Lightning? Strike where?"

"Why, on the head, of course."

"On the head...? Surely you don't mean mine?"

"No? I mean the head of the person who broke the contract."

The Third Prince replied with a bright, innocent smile, like a pure child.

Was this little one perhaps not quite right in the head?

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