***

The next morning.

I woke up before Rory. He must have been exhausted from the long journey because he was still sound asleep.

‘I shouldn’t wake him.’

It had been a long time since we’d had such a peaceful night.

I threw on any dress I could find and climbed back onto the bed.

Lying down to face Rory, I gently stroked his soft hair.

Sunlight streamed through the window, scattering across his silver hair.

I thought Rory looked just like a beautiful princess.

A pitiful princess from a fairy tale, locked in a tower, waiting for a prince to rescue her.

“Princess.”

Why had I only thought about protecting and shielding you within my walls until now?

“I won’t be the prince on a white horse. I’ll be the one who hands you a sword.”

So that the princess can protect herself and overcome crises on her own.

Like a mother bear teaching her cubs how to catch fish.

The Rory I read about in the novel was someone who didn’t rely on anyone.

That’s why he was stronger than anyone else.

Of course, part of the reason for that was because of Merchen, who turned him into a devil, but more than anything, it was his desire to grow stronger and the relentless effort he put in.

So I didn’t realize.

I naively thought, ‘He’ll grow stronger anyway when he becomes an adult and a duke.’

But now, seeing the endlessly fragile child who kept hanging his head, I felt I couldn’t just leave him like this.

“You’ll grow up to be an amazing adult.”

I wiped the sweat from his forehead and nose bridge, wondering what dreams he was having. Then, I leaned closer and hugged him.

Stretching out my short arms, I patted his back.

In his sleep, Rory held onto the warmth that embraced him.

And he pulled it even closer, holding it tightly.

***

“Brussel, please teach Rory swordsmanship.”

“It’s Brussel, not Brusell. And swordsmanship, you say?”

At my request, Brussel’s eyes widened in surprise.

“They say the swordsmanship of fairies surpasses that of humans, don’t they? Rory needs to learn. I’ll cover the cost.”

Since he already knew my true identity, I had no reservations about referring to him as a “fairy.”

As expected, Brussel wasn’t surprised. He merely laughed as if he found it amusing.

“Haha. There’s no need for payment. Then how about teaching Rory alongside Sprout?”

“Sprout is learning swordsmanship, too?”

“Yes, young lady. He started as soon as he could walk, but he hasn’t made much progress.”

“Understood. Thank you for agreeing so readily.”

And so, Rory began learning swordsmanship from Brussel alongside Sprout.

Unlike his perpetually drowsy demeanor, Sprout’s movements were elegant and nimble the moment he held a sword.

So much for not making progress.

It became clear to me just how vast the gap was between the standards of fairies and humans.

Sprout swung his sword so quickly it was nearly invisible to the eye.

Even though Rory had lost his memories, his body seemed to remember; his posture when holding a sword was steady and upright.

It seemed he had also started learning swordsmanship early at the Duke’s household.

For a five-year-old, he was undoubtedly doing very well, but next to the exceptionally skilled Sprout, Rory looked like a child playing with a toy sword.

“Rory! You can do it!”

I cheered for Rory while sipping the carrot juice Brussel had given me.

At that, Rory, who had been glancing nervously at Sprout, straightened his shoulders, and his eyes sparkled.

Sprout paused his movements and turned his head to stare at me silently.

Despite all that movement, not a single bead of sweat appeared on him.

Feeling burdened by his silent gaze, I looked away, only to hear a childish voice muttering, “Tch…”

“Cheer for me, too.”

The sulky expression on the little, tan-faced boy was utterly adorable, but I couldn’t let myself be fooled by that face.

“How old are you?”

“Forty-seven.”

“Do you even have a conscience?”

Forty-seven years old, and you’re whining about wanting to be cheered for?

Besides, fairies in this novel suddenly grow into their adult form when they turn fifty.

They spend one year as a baby, fifty years as a child, and five hundred years in their adult form.

When a fairy’s lifespan ends, they slowly solidify from their toes upward, turning into a tree.

The one year as a baby is considered an entirely separate stage, much like a caterpillar and a butterfly, and isn’t counted in their age.

So, excluding that one year, this little brat, who is already forty-seven, would become an adult in just three years.

“Young lady, forty-seven is considered a very young age for a fairy. Please don’t look at him with such disdain; try to find him endearing.”

Brussel, who was correcting Rory’s posture, spoke to me.

For Brussel’s sake, I offered Sprout a light cheer as well.

“Good luck to you too.”

At that, Sprout blinked his half-closed eyes lazily and then smiled softly.

“Thank you, young lady.”

If you’re going to speak informally, at least call me by my name.

If you’re going to call me “young lady,” then use polite speech.

He was truly an odd one.

***

Late at night, Ann couldn’t sleep and wandered through the field next to the village.

Is this really okay?

She couldn’t tell if leaving the Hauser Count household with the young lady was the right decision.

At some point, the young lady had become unusually calm and mature.

The intelligent and clever young lady. Her black eyes were as sharp and intellectual as those of a scholar, she had started reading thick books, and she used difficult vocabulary with ease.

Her vocabulary had expanded alongside her use of curses, but still…

Even so, Ann hadn’t harbored any particular suspicions.

When the young lady puffed out her plump cheeks with a sullen expression and said, “Don’t treat me like a baby,” Ann simply thought, “She’s still just a child after all.”

But when the young lady wrote a letter in clumsy handwriting at Rosema Station.

When she suddenly ventured into the forest and found this village.

When she had incomprehensible conversations with Brussel and explained that he was a fairy, all while smiling confidently.

Ann realized that the young lady was hiding some enormous secret.

However, when she threw a tantrum about wanting to sleep with Rory, she seemed like a baby again, leaving Ann completely at a loss.

And fairies? What nonsense! She thought those only existed in fairy tales!

Weren’t fairies supposed to be tiny, cute creatures the size of a finger, with beautiful butterfly-like wings, as described in legends?

From Ann’s perspective, they didn’t look much different from humans, making her wonder if everyone was conspiring to trick her.

Or perhaps she was just having a bizarre dream.

“Sigh.”

Ann let out a sigh as she wandered around the fairly large field for several laps.

She didn’t even notice someone approaching her from behind.

“Ann.”

“Eek!”

Startled by a tap on her shoulder, Ann let out a scream and jumped.