Chapter 116

Whoosh, whoosh.

Marco swung his wooden sword repeatedly, while Lulu, lying on the grass, stared at the sky.

Her brother was going to be imprinted.

Her brother, the newly minted overpowered protagonist, was about to march into enemy territory, wielding the key to magic.

“Holy shit.”

Marco, startled by the sudden, guttural curse – or at least, it sounded like a curse – gasped and turned to Lulu.

“What are you looking at? A hundred more swings!”

Lulu’s eyebrows twitched.

Marco, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, glared at her.

She’d been lazing around all day, doing nothing but eating pastries.

“Are you even doing it right? You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, just to annoy me!”

“Hey! Watch your mouth, pipsqueak! Just do what I tell you! With those flimsy arms, you’ll never be able to keep up with the prince, let alone protect him!”

She’d been nagging him constantly, criticizing his posture, the angle of his elbows…

Marco, his face crumpling, resumed his sword practice.

Lulu was also feeling discontent.

She’d discovered a downside to being a transmigrator in a novel.

Meeting her favorite and second-favorite characters, and her brother… that had been great. But…

‘There’s no payoff.’

She’d been bouncing around excitedly in her room, unable to contain her glee, while Carl Lindbergh and Adrian Heineken made their solemn vows, their imprinting a secret shared only with a handful of trusted servants and nobles.

But then she realized she was a mere spectator, excluded from the most important moment.

She couldn’t exactly barge into their bedroom and watch, could she? This fictional world, this PG-13 existence, offered no real satisfaction.

Even in reality, while she could witness her favorite characters’ public displays of affection, their private moments were private.

Damn it.

She was frustrated, her desires unfulfilled.

Her eyes narrowed, scanning her surroundings.

All these readily available romantic targets… and she was stuck here.

Her gaze landed on Marco.

Sweat flew from his body as he swung the wooden sword, his movements clumsy but earnest.

He was around 170cm tall, skinny but with a decent frame, a cute face, and he was… what, fifteen? Sixteen?

That was wrong. She might look like a teenager, but mentally, she was twenty-one. Marco seemed like a child — a whiny little brat.

Still, he had potential.

Men, after all, continued to grow until their twenties.

His only flaw was his unwavering devotion to the prince, a loyalty that might blind him to other possibilities.

“Hmm…”

Marco, feeling her gaze on him, her eyes scrutinizing him from head to toe, fumbled with his sword, dropping it to the ground.

“Why… why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing..”

“It’s distracting! I can’t concentrate!”

He glared at her, his cheeks flushing as she continued to stare, her chin resting on her hand.

“Good material… but if I polish him up, someone else might snatch him away,” Lulu muttered to herself, and Marco, overhearing her, looked bewildered.

Well, doing something was better than doing nothing. Lulu stood up, dusting off her pants.

“Marco, drop the sword. Let’s try some squats and push-ups.”

“What are skats?”

Lulu demonstrated.

“Not skats, squats. Look. Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, knees pointing outwards…”

She slowly lowered herself, then stood back up, and Marco, watching her, quickly looked away.

This was because the thinning fabric, due to the increasingly warmer weather, now smoothly hugged her shapely backside.

“I… I don’t want to do… weird exercises.”

Lulu wagged her finger at him.

“These aren’t weird, Marco. This is where a man’s power comes from. His thighs and glutes. Got it?”

“No.”

“Swinging a sword will only give you bulky arms. Don’t you want to get married someday?”

“Marriage? No way. I’m not getting married.”

Marco puffed out his cheeks, annoyed. Both the prince and Lulu seemed determined to find him a wife.

“Once the prince is imprinted, he’ll belong to the Crown Prince, completely.”

The clear sound of a bell echoed from beyond the castle walls.

It was the newly constructed bell tower at Nikita’s temple, marking the hour.

“If you don’t want to regret it later, you should start planning for your future. The prince is going to have other priorities. Your place in his life will diminish. That’s just how it is.”

Adrian Heineken already occupied a significant portion of the prince’s heart. And if they had children…

Lulu patted Marco’s shoulder.

“Just keep working, keep sweating. It’ll all be over soon. You’ll have a six-pack and thick thighs, and then someone else will come along, eager to fill the void in your life. Trust me.”

She winked, and Marco, after a brief, suspicious glare, assumed the position.

“Stop talking nonsense and just… show me again. How do you do it?”

 

❖ ❖ ❖

 

Leia Lindbergh finally returned to the castle.

Ayla, practically flying down the stairs, her hands clutching her skirt, rushed to meet her.

Her nanny yelled after her, scolding her for her unladylike behavior, but Ayla ignored her.

She felt a little embarrassed, having fixated on someone she’d met only once, but the thought of seeing her again filled her with anticipation.

As Leia Lindbergh arrived at the annex entrance, Ayla watched, mesmerized, as she dismounted gracefully, her vibrant blue uniform a stark contrast against the castle’s gray stone walls.

It wasn’t intentional, but Ayla’s own blue dress seemed to complement Leia’s uniform perfectly.

Leia entered the central hall of the annex, surrounded by her knights.

Ayla, watching from the upper floor, clutched her chest, her heart pounding.

Leia Lindbergh, after issuing instructions to her knights and surveying the hall, spotted Ayla Leva and smiled brightly.

The one who’d offered her a refuge.

The one who might see her, not as a princess, a bargaining chip, but as a person.

Perhaps… perhaps there was a chance…

Ayla smoothed down her dress, took a deep breath, then descended the stairs, one graceful step at a time.

Her heart pounded louder with each step, the anticipation almost overwhelming.

Leia’s presence was even more intense now – her pheromones, sharp and potent – making Ayla’s legs tremble.

Leia walked towards her, her steps quick and decisive, and Ayla’s eyes widened hopefully.

Perhaps you too…

“…..!”

But Leia walked past her.

As if she didn’t even see her.

Her smile didn’t falter as she approached a young man standing awkwardly behind Ayla.

“Belfry.”

Ayla slowly turned around.

“Greetings, Your Highness.”

The man, his face flushed crimson, stammered a greeting, his eyes darting nervously towards Leia Lindbergh.

“Do I look well? I rushed back, worried you might be crying.”

The man, startled, took a step back, and Leia moved closer.

That man…

‘Belfry Hendrick.’

The third son of Duke Hendrick. A Beta, the only one among the three Hendrick brothers her father had presented as potential mates. He’d been a Beta…

Leia casually reached out, cupping Belfry’s face in her hand.

“You look pale.”

Ayla closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over her. A strong floral scent filled the air, and she could hear the knights murmuring in surprise. Then she heard Leia Lindbergh murmur, “Such… a lovely scent.”

“My apologies, Your Highness. I’m still adjusting.”

Leia waved her hand dismissively, and the knights dispersed.

“A lovely scent, indeed. One I wouldn’t want to share.”

Leia’s blatant display of affection made Belfry tremble, while Ayla’s heart sank.

“Please, Your Highness, don’t say such things. It’s inappropriate.”

Belfry’s flustered tone made Leia chuckle.

“Feeling better now?”

“Better? I haven’t had a moment’s peace since you left. Thanks to you, I’m drowning in paperwork.”

Despite his grumpy tone, the potent scent of acacia blossoms emanating from him revealed his true feelings, his happiness at seeing her.

Ayla clenched her fists, taking a deep breath.

“Welcome back, Princess Leia Lindbergh.”

“Ah!”

Belfry, finally realizing they weren’t alone, flushed crimson and quickly bowed his head, hurrying down the stairs.

He stumbled, and Leia instinctively reached out to steady him, but he dodged her touch, his body turning away from her. Leia frowned, her eyes following his retreating form.

“Welcome to Lindbergh, Princess Ayla. I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Everyone has been very accommodating.”

Ayla, her lips pressed together so tightly they almost bled, maintained a calm façade.

Then she noticed Leia’s usually long, golden braid was now chopped short. “Oh, you cut your hair.”

“Ah, yes. A rather unfortunate incident during my travels. I decided to start fresh.”

While ruthlessly dispensing justice, her hair had become contaminated. One of her lieutenants had chopped it off, and Leia had burned it without a second thought.

She’d made a silent vow to leave her past behind, the years she’d spent as a caged bird in Lindbergh.

Ayla, however, found the unevenly chopped hair endearing.

“It suits you. May I… braid it for you?”

Regardless of Leia’s feelings for Belfry, they weren’t officially a couple. She had no intention of interfering with Carl Lindbergh and Adrian Heineken, but…

Leia Lindbergh and Belfry Hendrick… that was a different story.

Ayla, summoning her courage, looked at Leia expectantly, and Leia smiled.

“It would be an imposition to burden you with such a trivial task, Princess.”

“It would be my pleasure. Please allow me.”

Leia, her expression softening, nodded reluctantly.

She still had duties to attend to, so she suggested they postpone it, a vague promise for a later date, then excused herself.

Ayla, left alone, clutched her skirt, tears welling up in her eyes.

Even her back was beautiful.

Leia was still technically a princess, as Lindbergh’s official reinstatement as a principality, and her coronation, had been postponed.

But she carried herself like a queen, her authority undeniable.

“It seems I won’t be letting go of these feelings anytime soon, Your Highness,” Ayla murmured softly.