Chapter 78 · Birthday (1)

The king sprang from the throne as if he had been struck over the head with a hammer. Was this damned man going to have him dismiss everyone just to say this? He didn’t want his head split in two right there!

“Are you joking right now—”

“B-but I do know the herb that can cure it!”

Cyrus squeezed his eyes shut and shouted. The king, who had been reaching out to grab Cyrus by the collar, stopped short.

“What is it?!”

“It’s a flower that only grows in Batias. They call it the herb of life.”

“Batias? That Batias on the eastern continent?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why there, of all places!”

The king slid back into the throne as if collapsing. If this man wasn’t scamming him, it was a relief that there was an herb that could cure the plague, but Batias was the worst possible party to ask for help.

That country and Santra had cut ties long ago after a bitter war two hundred years ago. They had repeatedly requested exchange, but every request had been refused.

“Could you be mistaken? No, this could be a lie. You already changed your story once—how am I supposed to believe this!”

The king had a gentle impression, but his eyes alone carried the overwhelming presence befitting the head of a nation. Cyrus felt his heart shrivel under the king’s ferocious aura, but he thought of Princess Anastasia’s words and cried out desperately.

“I-I swear on my life that I am telling only the truth. If you ask Batias, you’ll know right away anyway, won’t you?”

“You could be in league with Batias, pulling a scam!”

“What reason would I have to do such a thing? If you suspect me, you’re welcome to post guards so I can’t run away.”

Since Cyrus had gone this far, the king had nothing to say. Rather than waiting on the researchers who had brought no results for nearly a month, he had to cling to even a swindler-looking interpreter like this.

“Haa… Very well. I’m sorry for pressing you when you were trying to help. Instead, please help me with the interpretation for the negotiations with Batias as well. I’ll pay you generously.”

“Of course. Leave it to me.”

Cyrus let out a sigh of relief inwardly and bowed repeatedly, then cautiously added.

“…And in my humble opinion, I think this matter should be handled in secret.”

“Hm? In secret?”

“Batias is a difficult counterpart. If word about the herb of life leaks out and we end up unable to receive their help, we could incur resentment from both the nobles and the people.”

The king sighed. He ground his teeth at the generations-old hatred toward Batias.

“Indeed, those vile barbarians never want to share what’s theirs. That was the reason for the war two hundred years ago as well.”

And the reason those barbarians could be so brazen was obvious—the nobles and people would surely blame the royal family’s lack of diplomatic skill. A matter like this was wiser to handle as carefully as possible, just as Cyrus said.

“You’re right. For a mere interpreter, you have quite a sharp corner.”

Cyrus was dumbfounded by the king criticizing Batias when Santra was no different, but he was relieved things were going smoothly just as Princess Anastasia had said. If everything proceeded in secret, Aquila wouldn’t find out, and even if she did, he now had the king’s surveillance on him, so an assassination attempt would be difficult.

Marveling at Princess Anastasia’s thoroughness, he withdrew from the audience chamber. His heart still felt like it might burst from anxiety, but in any case, his lifeline had been extended a little.

◇ ◆ ◇

“Hmmm. What to do.”

I was deep in worry over something other than the plague and the herb of life.

Because tomorrow was Leo’s birthday. I had learned it a few days ago when I used memory magic and saw the calendar in Leo’s room. If his mother hadn’t mentioned it was his birthday, I might have just let it pass by. Leo probably hadn’t had his birthday celebrated by anyone for over four years…

‘Does he even know the date? There wasn’t even a calendar in that tower.’

Thinking about that made my chest tighten with pity for him. I wasn’t the type to place much meaning on birthdays. In all my past lives, no one had ever celebrated my birthday for me.

Fortunately, my mother had written my birthday in the letter when she left me at that cabin, so the misfortune of not knowing the day I was born was avoided… but even so, there were far more times it passed without anyone knowing it was my birthday.

‘It was only in this life that I received a proper celebration for the first time.’

Sierra, Yuz, and Rosa had made a big three-tier birthday cake, lit candles, and sang a celebration song. Though Sierra was so tone-deaf that Yuz and Rosa covered my ears halfway through. And they gave me several pretty everyday dresses they had sewn by hand, apologizing so much that the clothes were too humble for me. I was so moved that holding back my tears was a struggle.

From the next birthday onward, Paeon was there too. When Rosa urged him to sing the celebration song along with us, he made that uniquely troubled face of his and his lips twitched. It was so funny! I teased him, threatening not to blow out the candles unless he sang the whole thing properly.

Since then, every birthday had remained a warm memory for me. The reason I always firmly declined the king’s dinner invitations was that I didn’t want to ruin that joyful time by dining with Aquila and Stella.

Anyway, now that I had properly enjoyed what a birthday was, I couldn’t let Leo’s birthday pass by.

‘I can’t give Leo a loud celebration like that, but… at least I should do something proper.’

I took out a small box hidden under my bed and opened the lid to check what was inside. It was a silver pocket watch with very intricate craftsmanship. I had obtained it from a merchant who had brought a load of rare goods while talking with the Brilian delegation.

Looking at the beautifully shining pocket watch brought a grin to my face.

‘I hope Leo likes it.’

The problem was the cake. It was awkward to suddenly ask the palace chef to make a whole cake. At most, they’d serve a slice or two with dinner. If I wasn’t careful, it could raise suspicion.

Just then, I heard Sherry’s voice outside.

“Princess, I’ll bring in the bathwater.”

Sherry! That’s right, wouldn’t it be fine to ask Sherry for a favor like this?

Having observed her for a few days, I thought she was trustworthy. Of course, I couldn’t let my guard down, but since she had served my mother for so long, I felt at least a little trust. She was a very quiet, composed person who put her heart into everything. To an almost overwhelming degree.

Even now, I was receiving nearly the finest bathing service. Her soft touch made my body lax and my eyes kept closing, so I quickly pulled myself together.

“Um… Sherry.”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Um… could you do me a favor?”

“Of course. Please tell me anything.”

“Can you keep it a secret?”

At my words, she stopped her hands. And she looked at me with a somehow wistful gaze. As if looking at something she missed dearly.

“…Sherry?”

“Ah… I apologize.”

Sherry murmured in a flustered voice.

“I was thinking of Princess Beatrice, and I…”

“Did Mom also ask Sherry for secret favors?”

At my sharp observation, she smiled faintly. Smiling made her look much younger.

“Yes, she did quite often. I ended up keeping a great many of Princess Beatrice’s secrets, if I may be so bold.”

She asked with serious eyes.

“So what is Princess Anastasia’s secret favor?”

“Um… it’s nothing much.”

I hemmed and hawed before finally opening my mouth.

“Is there an empty kitchen in the palace? I want to make a cake myself.”

“An empty kitchen?”

Sherry looked puzzled.

“There is a kitchen the servants use. It’s not where the food for the royal family is prepared, though…”

“That’s it! Could I use that place?”

“But wouldn’t it be better to ask the palace chef for the cake? If you just say the word, they’ll bake you a delicious cake.”

“Well… actually, I want to give it to the priestesses. I haven’t seen them in days and I miss them terribly, and I think they’d like it if I brought them a cake I made myself.”

Even I thought it was a suspicious reason, but Sherry gazed at me for a moment and then answered readily.

“Understood. There is no gift more precious than one made by hand.”

Yes! That’s it! I felt truly sorry to the three priestesses who were being used as an excuse like this, but Sherry understood so perfectly.

‘Khh, she really must be a good person.’

After my bath, I crept into the empty kitchen with Sherry, my face fresh and clean. Fortunately, all the ingredients for making a cake were there.

“Princess, it will still be too much for you to do alone. Let me help.”

Sherry said kindly, but I held up the cookbook I had brought and cried confidently.

“No, I’ll do it myself! Making it myself is what gives it meaning!”

I firmly believed I could do it. I had never cooked before, but I had never failed with knowledge from books.

And some time later.

My efforts notwithstanding the careful bath I’d just had, I was covered in white flour and shouted in dismay.

“Why isn’t it working wike the book says?!”

Before me wobbled a substance that could hardly be called a cake. If Ark had seen it, he would have doubled over laughing.

‘This can’t be. To think there’s something I can’t do!’

Sherry, who had been quietly watching from one side, approached me as tears of humiliation welled in my eyes.

“The princess is still a child. It’s all right to have things you can’t do.”

In the end, I spoke in a cowering voice.

“…Sherry. Pwease help me just a wittle.”

Sherry smiled warmly and picked up the whisk.

◇ ◆ ◇

Basileo counted once more the numerous chalk marks he had drawn in a corner of the room.

‘It’s almost that day.’

If he hadn’t marked it like this, he wouldn’t even know how old he was. The birthday he had spent alone in his first year trapped here had been dreadfully lonely and sad. He cried and cried, and when his tears had run dry, he came to his senses and steeled his heart.

‘I mustn’t be devoured by sorrow. I have a mission and a goal.’

Repeating such thoughts, the sorrow dulled as the years passed, and instead anger slowly accumulated. Anger was the only force that kept him going. But today, a sorrow similar in size to what he had felt long ago spread through his heart.

It must be because, a few days ago through memory magic, he had vividly seen his mother, whose face had been growing hazy. His mother had always made his birthday cake herself and set the birthday table whenever his birthday banquet came around.

Knowing full well how absurd it was for a queen to sweat in the kitchen making food, he had tried to stop her, but his mother would not listen.

A mother who had loved him that much, and whom he had loved so much…

‘Is it right for me to be doing this?’

He carefully gripped the small magical tool in his pocket. It was a light magical tool he had created together with Anastasia, based on the information he had learned through memory magic. He hadn’t tested it yet, but if it succeeded, Santra’s plague would come to an end. But… that was something he must not do. The more damage Santra suffered, the easier it would be for his father to conquer this land.

At first, it was about repaying a debt. There were plenty of reasons he had to take responsibility for her. Once would be all right, he told himself. But deep in his heart, the real reason he had decided to help her was buried.

“Thank you, Leo.”

Because he wanted to hear that one sentence from her…

His hand gripping the magical tool tightened. His stomach twisted with guilt.

Then.

He heard the sound of a portal opening, and a familiar girl came tumbling out of it.