“That’s because only the strong survive. We’re strong, so no one dares challenge us.”

“Right? But I don’t think strength and weakness only show themselves in kill-or-be-killed relationships. If I had to put it in words.”

“……”

“Does a country’s power really need to be proven? Since Your Majesty’s ascension, Arsis hasn’t fought a single war, yet no one under this sky would deny Arsis’s might.”

“So?”

“That’s what makes Your Majesty remarkable.”

I felt somewhat conflicted.

I had worked to strengthen Arsis simply to fulfill my duty as emperor, and I avoided war because it was meaningless.

Sela’s interpretation seemed a bit excessive. She even acted like she didn’t know I had killed my siblings to ascend to the throne.

But still.

I glanced at Sela through the mirror.

After neatly braiding my high-tied hair and finishing the final touches, she clapped her hands.

“All done! Do you like it?”

I shifted my gaze.

My wavy blonde hair was now neatly arranged, and a red ribbon fluttered on the long braid.

‘I really look like a child.’

Of course, there was nothing strange about it since my current appearance was that of a child.

However, having such a large ribbon on my head felt oddly out of place, so I fiddled with it.

“Don’t you have anything smaller?”

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s too… cute.”

I raised an eyebrow slightly.

It felt awkward wearing a ribbon decoration I’d never tried before. I hadn’t worn anything this fancy even in my actual childhood, let alone as an adult.

‘Well, back then everything I had was taken away anyway.’

But Sela seemed to think differently, as she opened her eyes wide at my words.

“What’s wrong with being cute? Does Your Highness dislike cute things?”

“I don’t particularly like them.”

Sela looked somewhat surprised by my answer.

Soon, she smiled brightly, appearing to have realized something.

“I suppose that makes sense. Since you’re an imperial princess, we should emphasize your dignity. I’ll change it for something else.”

“No, that’s not necessary. Just keep it in mind for next time.”

“Yes, I’ll remember that.”

After putting on my shoes with Sela’s help, I got down from the chair.

Looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror, I couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

‘I look like a doll.’

This was absolutely not a compliment.

A doll prettily adorned with elaborate lace, frills, and flowing clothes cannot possess will.

And I preferred to look like a person rather than a doll.

But at this point, worrying about such things was meaningless, and it was still a hundred times better than looking unkempt. So I decided not to care about my appearance and turned around.

That’s when it happened. As I was about to leave the room as usual, Sela suddenly called out to me.

“Oh, Your Highness.”

“What?”

“Do you have a favorite dessert?”

I tilted my head at the unexpected question.

“Dessert?”

“Yes. Despite appearances, I once dreamed of becoming a patissier, so I can make most things. If you have something you like, I’d be happy to make it for you.”

“Not really. I don’t like sweet things.”

This was true. I think I liked sweets when I was younger, but at some point, I started disliking them.

No, it wasn’t just sweets—I disliked eating in general.

Sela looked somewhat disappointed at my response.

Was she disappointed because she couldn’t show off her skills to me?

I was about to ignore it and leave the room when, for some reason, I remembered her bright smile from earlier and paused.

Then I spoke indifferently.

“Make something slightly salty, and I’ll try it. But make sure it’s delicious!”

As soon as I finished speaking, Sela smiled broadly, showing no trace of her previous disappointment.

Seeing that, I smirked and left the room.

* * *

If there was one task Hasis devoted most of his time to since accidentally becoming Lerrhagen’s disciple, it was “figuring out Lerrhagen’s intentions.”

This was because Lerrhagen was so taciturn that one might wonder why he even had a mouth, and strangely, he rarely took initiative in anything.

As a result, even for Hasis, who had grown skilled at reading adults’ moods from his years of wandering the streets, Lerrhagen remained difficult to understand.

But what wind had blown?

Starting from when Lerrhagen suddenly responded to the summoning and became Esht’s father, Hasis had noticed something different about him these past few days.

This peculiarity always stemmed from Lerrhagen’s actions, particularly in his attitude toward Esht.

“Master.”

Hasis called out to Lerrhagen, who was sitting in a tree today.

After casually dropping the bombshell about black magic a few days ago, Lerrhagen had spent his time alone, behaving with complete detachment, showing no concern for any of this.

Of course, it wasn’t unusual for Lerrhagen to show disinterest in others and act like everything was a bother.

However, the attention Lerrhagen had shown Esht was too exceptional to dismiss as normal.

Yes, exceptional.

Though Esht might not realize it, Lerrhagen wasn’t the type of being who was good at give-and-take to the extent of paying a price for his mistakes.

He wasn’t someone who would feel guilt or responsibility for merely letting a stranger into the emperor’s room, and naturally, he wasn’t the type to help someone just for such a trivial reason.

He wasn’t the type to provide jewels when told a crown was needed, and above all…

‘It didn’t make sense that he responded to the summoning in the first place.’

The very beginning of this whole affair was exceptional.

‘Well, I figured he might have some connection with that kid, but for someone who seems to need help the most, he’s showing surprisingly little reaction.’

In the end, Hasis gave up trying to understand Lerrhagen.

“Is it really okay to leave her like this?”

At Hasis’s question, Lerrhagen, sitting in the tree, slowly opened his eyes. His ice-cold blue eyes appeared in the air, and then he turned his head slightly.

“Who knows.”

It was a simple answer. At the same time, it was a meaningless one.

Hasis made a face that said he’d expected as much. Expecting a definitive answer from Lerrhagen was hopelessly naive.

But then, Lerrhagen, who had been sitting with an indifferent expression, suddenly rose.

His gaze lingered on the corridor in front of Esht’s room, a short distance away. After glimpsing the red ribbon occasionally visible through the drooping leaves, he suddenly descended from the tree.

Thud.

Hasis looked somewhat surprised at Lerrhagen’s light landing.

Lerrhagen, whose intentions remained unclear, turned his head. He met Hasis’s gaze and spoke.

“I need to visit Oliphs.”

“What?”

Hasis frowned at the abrupt statement.

“Oliphs, you mean the fairy folk…?”

“You stay here. Keep an eye on things.”

“What do you mean?”

“It seems we’ll have an uninvited guest this evening.”

“What are you… Wait, Master!”

Before Hasis could finish his question, Lerrhagen vanished.

Hasis pressed his forehead in frustration at this quintessentially willful behavior. His face was full of resignation.

“You could at least tell me who’s coming.”

Since Lerrhagen had always been like this, Hasis just sighed deeply.

But soon, with a sharp gaze, he moved forward.

‘Anyway, an uninvited guest? Why does that kid have so many enemies?’

He continued grumbling to himself.

* * *

Just because I’m in this state doesn’t mean my duties as emperor disappear.

Even though I’m using a puppet for public appearances, I still need to handle imperial affairs.

However, creating an office for a seven-year-old princess would seem strange, and even if one were made, it would look suspicious for Rigan, the emperor’s aide, to frequently visit the princess’s office.

My solution was quite simple.

First, create a “playroom” for the princess.

Then, use spatial distortion magic to connect the playroom’s door with the emperor’s office.

Since this magic only works for those I permit, there was no concern even if someone entered by mistake.

At the same time, since the magic only applied to the office door, even if someone forced their way into the emperor’s office, they couldn’t reach the playroom.

Thanks to this, Rigan outwardly opened the door to the emperor’s office as usual to report, while I could handle imperial affairs in the playroom.

The only annoying thing was that because the chair was sized for my original form, I had to stack two cushions and struggle to climb up every time I sat down.

Today, too, sitting on soft cushions and leaning against the chair’s backrest, I furrowed my brow at the news attached to the end of the routine report.

“We received a message from the Magic Tower. They reported strange magical fluctuations in the Death Gorge. The tower’s mages are working with the priests on restoration, so there’s no need to worry, but they’ve notified all royal households just in case.”

“Death Gorge?”

“Yes, the Death Gorge. It’s where those who commit magic-related crimes are imprisoned.”

“I know that. The issue is, if my memory serves me correctly…”

I trailed off.

Rigan briefly questioned my attitude but soon exhaled lightly with an “Ah,” suggesting he’d realized something.

“It was once the stronghold of the demon folk.”