Home/The Prince died, so we're starting over!/ch28

Episode 28

"Sati...?"

Judging by the Third Prince's expression, "ti" wasn't it.

"Sahi..."

"Hi" wasn't it either.

I quickly racked my brain.

I had definitely memorized the Third Prince's name and tucked it away in my mind at some point.

But no matter how much I searched my memory, his name wouldn't come to mind.

Why? Wasn't it him who got hit on the head by the bandits, not me?

"See! You don't know it!"

The Third Prince wept even more pitifully. His tear ducts seemed like an inexhaustible lake.

He'd cried so much that his cheeks were red and swollen.

I worried his fever might rise again.

After a moment of shock at having completely forgotten the Third Prince's name, I hurriedly scrambled for an excuse to calm him down.

"Well, you know... sometimes you suddenly forget the name of a friend you've been close with, right?"

"I've never had that happen!"

"Really? How can that be? Unless you don't have any friends..."

The Third Prince's chirping voice suddenly stopped.

It seemed I'd unintentionally struck a sore spot.

"...It's okay. That can happen. I don't have any friends here either."

"...That's enough!"

"Really. I only ever play with you, Your Highness."

I'd only stated the truth, but the Third Prince's face flushed even redder.

He looked like a kettle about to boil over. I worried he might burst at any moment.

"May I be rude for a moment?"

I raised my hand and placed it on the Third Prince's forehead.

His prominent forehead was burning hot.

No wonder he'd been fluctuating between states—he was clearly delirious from fever.

"We really should call a healer."

"...It's fine."

"I'm not fine."

The pair of eyes that refused to leave me were red with broken capillaries.

What on earth was driving this child to such desperation—just like during the bandit incident? I couldn't understand it at all.

All I knew was that the Third Prince needed some medicine and plenty of rest.

"...I wish you'd just hate me."

Just as I turned to call for one of the Third Prince's negligent attendants or a servant, he muttered in a very small voice.

"Excuse me? What did you say?"

Unsure if I'd heard correctly, I asked again.

But no answer came back from the Third Prince.

He just leaned back on the bed, hanging his head in silence.

'...I suppose I should call the healer first?'

After a moment's hesitation, I picked up the bell.

When I rang it, a passing servant knocked on the door.

"Could you go fetch a healer?"

"Yes, yes! Right away!"

The servant bowed politely and hurried away as if fleeing.

A short while later, the healer arrived at the Third Prince's room.

By then, the Third Prince had already fallen back asleep.

'Isn't he a bit late? Should I have him docked some pay?'

I caught myself thinking like a Lulupel and was startled by my own thought.

---

"Good afternoon, my lady."

As soon as I stepped out of the Third Prince's room, someone called out to me.

Turning around, I saw a familiar attendant—Count Lulupel's personal servant.

"Yes, hello."

"The master has asked me to bring you to him. May I have a moment of your time?"

"What for?"

Even with my question, the attendant remained tight-lipped. I had no choice but to follow him without knowing the reason.

His steps were urgent, as if the matter was quite pressing.

We arrived at Count Lulupel's room in almost the blink of an eye.

"Master, the young lady is here."

"Come in at once!"

No sooner had he knocked than Count Lulupel's thunderous voice boomed.

The attendant flinched and stepped back.

Why was that impatient man in such a temper again?

Even after living as Count Lulupel's daughter for so long, I still couldn't get used to his hot-headedness.

I probably never would.

I decided to release the frightened attendant from this situation.

"You've worked hard. If you have other duties, you may go."

"Yes, thank you."

The attendant scurried away. Left alone, I sighed and opened the door.

"Hariella! Why are you so late!"

When I entered the room, the first thing I saw was Count Lulupel fidgeting restlessly.

He looked extremely anxious.

"Good afternoon, Papa."

Worried he might find fault, I greeted him politely first.

But Count Lulupel barely acknowledged my greeting.

"...Is something wrong?"

"Of course there is! Sit down here, my dear daughter! Do you know what your father heard last night?"

Count Lulupel sat me on the sofa. Then, like a tattletale elementary schooler, he began to spill the whole story.

"...So, Count Austen said..."

"Yes, well..."

"...As you know, he also has a daughter your age."

"Yes, well..."

I'd wondered why Count Lulupel looked so miserable—he had his reasons.

It was because of his few friends, or rather rivals, the Something-or-other Margrave.

Last night, Count Lulupel had shared drinks alone with the lord of the neighboring territory, Count Something-or-other.

And there, he'd heard some very unexpected news.

"That bastard's daughter got invited to Lady Salviva's tea party! That's ridiculous! Don't you agree, Hariella?"

"Yes, well..."

It was the story that the Something-or-other Margrave's daughter had received an invitation to the tea party hosted by the Second Prince's mother.

Count Lulupel and his friend Count Something-or-other had children of similar ages.

It was only natural that whenever they met, they'd boast about their children endlessly.

And in Count Lulupel's mind, this time it was definitely his turn to boast.

Because his beloved youngest daughter was about to be engaged to a prince!

Anyone in the Lulupel household knew how much Count Lulupel loved to show off and brag.

He was the type of person who lived waiting for the next opportunity to boast.

But because of the incident involving the Third Prince, Count Lulupel had lost his long-awaited chance to strut.

To make matters worse, Count Something-or-other had bragged that his daughter had been invited to the Asphodel Court.

Count Lulupel was about to keel over from frustration.

Earlier, the Third Prince had mentioned that the Second Prince had recently broken off an engagement.

Under these circumstances, if the Second Prince's mother was hosting a tea party, what could the reason be?

"...Don't worry too much, Papa."

I vaguely soothed Count Lulupel while reflecting on my previous lives.

I had no memory of Count Lulupel falling ill from envy over his friend's good fortune.

"That young lady won't become the Second Prince's fiancée."

"That goes without saying!"

Count Lulupel yelped like an angry Maltese.

He was furious, but as always, he exuded no intimidation whatsoever.

Was it because of the Lulupel family's signature pink hair? Did this cute, lively hair color completely undermine his authority?

I entertained such idle thoughts while half-heartedly comforting Count Lulupel.

In my previous lives, this definitely hadn't happened.

Proposals aside, bragging about a tea party invitation was rather strange.

No one knew how the tea party would turn out. It was too early to boast before anything had even been decided.

If it were some baron from a frontier territory, that would be one thing, but Count Something-or-other was a margrave guarding the western border.

For someone of his standing, bragging about an invitation was rather pathetic.

It was obvious that Count Something-or-other, also envious of Count Lulupel's good fortune, had jumped the gun in boasting about his daughter.

Their friend's level... was certainly something. Birds of a feather do flock together.

"We can't just stand here idle! The engagement ceremony must proceed as scheduled the day after tomorrow! Do you understand, Hariella?"

"Excuse me? But His Highness is still unwell."

"He's regained consciousness, hasn't he? It's not like he broke a leg—he can pull through for half a day with sheer willpower!"

Count Lulupel was being unreasonable.

I repeatedly explained how hot the Third Prince's forehead had been, but Count Lulupel wouldn't budge an inch.

"Has His Highness ever said he wanted to postpone the engagement ceremony?"

"Not exactly, but..."

"Then that settles it!"

Count Lulupel exclaimed with relief, like a man whose aching tooth had been pulled.

"But, Papa! His Highness might have been so out of it that he forgot the ceremony is the day after tomorrow!"

"Then you can go and remind him!"

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, that's perfect! When he sees you, His Highness will be ashamed! You both fell from the same tree, yet he's still lying in bed while you're up and about!"

Count Lulupel spouted utter nonsense.

I was so dumbfounded that I missed my chance to refute him.

In that gap, the impatient Count Lulupel rang the bell to summon a servant.

"My little kitten is going to visit His Highness! Show her the way!"

"No, wait, Papa!"

"See you tomorrow, Hariella. I'm already looking forward to seeing how lovely you'll be!"

"That's not—!"

I belatedly raised my voice in protest, but Count Lulupel wasn't listening.

He gave my forehead a light peck and shooed me out of the room.

In the blink of an eye, I was left alone in the cold corridor.

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