The Prince Is Dead, So Let’s Start Over Everything Again! - Chapter 4.3

Merry Christmas to all my readers! To celebrate, I’m treating you to extra chapter updates. Please enjoy this special release of four bonus chapters! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

(Lurelia’s Christmas Bonus – Update 1/4 🎉)

♡ To all readers who purchased these chapters before Christmas: I can’t express this enough – Thank you for your support. (*ˊᗜˋ*)/ᵗᑋᵃᐢᵏ ᵞᵒᵘ*

Of course, I hadn’t forgotten about being attacked by bandits.

How could I forget such an intense incident?

But I didn’t know that everything I remembered was true.

I thought only half of it was real, and the other half was a dream.

That I, weak as I am, subdued a group of bandits with just a wooden club! It was utterly unbelievable.

“Ah! Then that person at that time…!”

Suddenly, I recalled someone holding me just before I collapsed.

Although my vision was too blurry to see their face, I clearly remembered the sensation of that moment.

The firm arm against my cheek and…

…No. It’s not proper for an adult to use such frivolous expressions about a child.

I shook my head vigorously to chase away the inappropriate thoughts lingering in my mind.

According to Anna, he and Hariella are exactly three years apart.

As a professional adult, I had a duty to use pure vocabulary.

‘…Wait a minute.’

Three years apart from Hariella?

So you’re saying he’s eleven years old with this face and body?

“…Excuse me, but your age, no, your years, no, your springs and autumns?”

“Eleven.”

…Really? No secret about his birth or anything?

“It’s true.”

“…I didn’t say anything though?”

“It’s written all over your face.”

“I see…”

They said he grew up harshly in the desolate North, and it seems that was true.

The male protagonist must have had an extremely difficult childhood.

His appearance was just… in kind words, mature, and in unkind words…

No. I should only use kind words. An adult shouldn’t use unkind words to a growing sprout.

Anyway, unlike the excessively tiny 3rd Prince who claimed to be eight, the eleven-year-old male protagonist was extremely large.

He looked at least fourteen.

It seemed there was no middle ground in this third-rate romance novel world.

But well… Everyone grows at their own pace.

I decided to emulate Anna’s open-mindedness, free of prejudice.

Quickly accepting and moving past trivial matters was the best way to live comfortably in this complicated world.

“…Come to think of it, I’m late with my greetings. Thank you for your help. You brought me to the Ludbekia Palace, didn’t you, Young Duke?”

“Yes.”

The male protagonist’s age wasn’t important to me. There was something else that truly mattered.

“May I ask how you explained the situation to my father, the Count Lurupel?”

How did he handle yesterday’s commotion?

If the male protagonist had even a shred of perceptiveness, he would have realized that the 3rd Prince and I had sneaked out of the palace.

After all, the 3rd Prince and I were wearing dirty robes and had no guards around us.

“I had already guessed that you were out on a secret excursion without Count Lurupel’s knowledge.”

Fortunately, it seemed the male protagonist didn’t wear his eyes merely as decoration.

He was much more perceptive than the 3rd Prince, who couldn’t read the room to save his life.

“But I thought the Count should know the truth to completely eradicate the bandits.”

“What?”

The problem was that he lacked flexibility!

I hastily continued.

“So, what happened? You didn’t actually tell my father the truth, did you?”

“That was my intention until we reached the Ludbekia Palace.”

That was his intention? Does that mean he didn’t tell?

Clinging to a sliver of hope, I looked up at him intently.

His red eyes were also looking down at me. They were calm eyes, impossible to read what thoughts they held.

“But just then, you started sleep-talking.”

“What? I did? What did I say?”

“You said the secret mustn’t be revealed. You also said that if the secret was discovered, lightning might strike and kill you.”

“…I, I said that?”

I must have lost my mind.

This was no time to be scolding the 3rd Prince for being stupid.

I was the truly foolish one.

I slowly raised my arm to touch the top of my head. Thankfully, there was no electric shock.

“…Is Count Lurupel abusing you?”

“…If I may ask, could you keep this to the gra… What?”

“Even in the North, it’s quite well-known that Count Lurupel has a temper like lightning.”

But they say there’s always a way out, even if the sky falls.

The male protagonist had misunderstood my words in his own way!

“Um, did I say anything else by any chance?”

“You only said those two things and then fell into a deep sleep.”

It was a blessing in disguise.

I was so relieved that I let out an audible sigh of relief.

This caused a deep suspicion to spread across the male protagonist’s face.

“So, Count Lurupel indeed…”

“No, it’s not like that!”

“There’s no need to worry. Come with me to Caledonia. I’ll raise you to be an excellent knight.”

“That’s a very kind offer, but… What? What did you just say?”

“I said I would personally teach you. I’ve never seen a child with such excellent qualities. It’s like seeing myself when I was young. You could certainly walk the path of a Sword Master.”

The male protagonist was arbitrarily deciding my future.

No, if I stay here, I could walk the solid path of being a wealthy unemployed person, so why should I go through hardships?

“…I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t see why I should wield a sword. I’m not interested, and I don’t think I have any particular talent…”

“You do have talent. I’ll prove it. Once you have talent, interest will soon follow.”

“I still don’t want to.”

It’s troublesome.

I showed an expression of obvious distaste. However, the stubborn male protagonist didn’t yield at all.

This was the problem with people who had lived their entire lives without ever considering others’ opinions.

They think only their opinion is correct.

“But aren’t you the second child?”

“That’s right.”

“As far as I know, Count Lurupel has no other titles. For a second child who can’t inherit the title, there’s no better path than becoming a knight.”

“Yes… But I don’t particularly need a title. I’m going to be engaged to His Highness the 3rd Prince.”

“Being married doesn’t mean you can’t become a knight.”

No, I’m saying I don’t want to…

The male protagonist was a handsome man with an impression as rigid as an armored pine tree.

And unfortunately, true to his appearance, he was incredibly stubborn.

Perhaps because he had lived his entire life focused only on the sword, he seemed completely unaware that there are people in this world who don’t desire the path of knighthood.

His sunset-like eyes were deep in thought.

After a moment, an unexpected sound escaped from between his pretty lips.

“…Could it be because I rejected your proposal?”

“…What?”

Isn’t this a severe case of narcissism? Why is that story coming up here?

Men’s thoughts are so impractical, I swear.

Is he also the type who assumes that all women are desperately in love with him?