Chapter 7: The Prince’s Growing Fascination.

When we arrived at the Marquis household from the academy, the Marquis himself came out to greet us.
It seemed his wife had taken to bed, overwhelmed by the news that Rachel’s condition was far more serious than anticipated.

“So you’re saying that right now, Rachel has almost no mana left at all?”

“Yes, that’s correct.
This was confirmed by Dr. Donald, whom the palace dispatched to examine her—so there is no mistake.”

“I see… mana depletion, is it…”

“I am deeply sorry for allowing such a situation to occur.”

“No, no need for apologies.
You must be worried sick about your daughter as well, Marquis.
For the time being, I’ll assign aides to handle your work so you can focus on her recovery.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

The details I heard from the Marquis painted a picture far graver than I had imagined.

Ernest—usually so indulgent toward his one-year-younger cousin—had completely lost his usual composure, his worry plain on his face.
Even Cyril, normally so expressionless, showed clear signs of agitation.

A woman as prideful as she would never accept this reality easily.

It won’t happen immediately, but depending on how things develop, we may need to reconsider this engagement.

How callous of me.
Even in a moment like this, my thoughts drift not to Rachel’s suffering, but to the loss the kingdom will suffer from her depleted mana.

As someone who puts the nation first, the position of Crown Princess must be filled by whoever best meets the kingdom’s current needs.
With her mana gone—and her physical condition as it is—Rachel can no longer possibly fulfill that role.

Just thinking about who the next candidate might be makes me feel utterly drained.

Well… in any case.

She is still my fiancée for now.
I may as well go see her face.

Will she scream hysterically?
Or put on an exaggerated display of grief?

♢

──Who is this person?

Rachel leans against the large cushion propped behind her on the bed, barely managing to sit upright.
Though her gaze is weak, she offers a polite nod with her eyes alone.

Her eyes are slightly moist, yet they still hold a clear light.
Those upturned eyes give her an almost kitten-like charm.
Her lips curve into a frail yet graceful smile, while her glossy black hair flows softly, exuding an unexpected allure.

So this is what it means to stir protective instincts.

Indeed, both Ernest and Cyril have begun to flush faintly and fidget.

Right. Time to have them leave immediately.
They’re an eyesore.

It isn’t just her appearance or atmosphere that has changed.

The way she calmly declares “This is for the best” is profoundly shocking—even to someone like me, whose emotions rarely waver.

In a country where mana depletion is unthinkable, who could possibly speak those words with true sincerity?

──Fascinating.

I stare intently at Rachel—the very picture of a stereotypical noblewoman, someone I had never found remotely interesting before.

What could have changed her so drastically?

I wonder… where will this transformation lead?

This may be the first time I’ve ever felt such strong curiosity toward a woman.

I want to know more about this unfamiliar being before me.

People see me as someone who handles everything with effortless grace, but in truth, once something captures my interest, I cannot rest until I’ve investigated it thoroughly.

It seems Rachel wants to break off the engagement.

She, who once clung to me so obsessively, now wishes to let go so easily—what must be going through her mind?

Dissolving the engagement can be done at any time on the grounds that she is no longer suitable due to mana loss.
There is absolutely no need to do it right now.

What a pity.

To think she would willingly let go of something this intriguing.
I could never allow that.

♢

On the carriage ride back to the palace with Cyril, I can’t help but recall Rachel’s demeanor just now—and a laugh escapes me.

“That’s unusual.”

“What is?”

“To see Your Highness making such a childlike, excited face.”

“Fufu… am I really that excited?”

“Yes.
It’s the first time since you were thirteen and discovered Viscount Belmon’s hidden herb garden.”

Cyril’s eyes widen at my sudden laughter, then narrow in a grimace.
He’s probably silently asking, What exactly are you scheming?

“Ah, that herb garden was quite something.
All those supposedly forbidden poisonous plants gathered in one place—and even a small Dragonstone Tree, thought to be mythical, growing there.”

“The Belmon family met a tragic end after that, didn’t they?”

“It couldn’t be helped.
If those plants had reached the market, the consequences would have been catastrophic.
But I didn’t take the Viscount’s life.”

“That’s only because you wanted to keep his knowledge of poisons and cultivation skills close at hand—so you had him confined to a research facility and raised like livestock.”

“Now he works diligently for the kingdom.”

“Because you made him.”

Honestly, the way he talks about me like I’m some villain…

Well, for the current me, this is the first time in a long while that my heart has raced with genuine excitement—so Cyril’s little complaints don’t bother me in the slightest.

Now then… what kind of expression will she show me the next time I visit?

I’m looking forward to it.

That said… is mana depletion even possible?

…That’s another extremely intriguing question.
Once I’m back at the palace, I should look into it.