A Blend of Romance and Fantasy Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Once the conversation shifted to casual topics, the atmosphere quickly relaxed.

Leonard, already back to his usual shameless self, smiled lightly.

“Princess, what do you plan to make with the mana stone I gave you? If you’d like, I can recommend a skilled mage.”

Ah—the Tear of Deligno.

Come to think of it, I’d received a cheat-level item and hadn’t even considered how to use it.

“That won’t be necessary. I happen to know a few people myself.”

I declined immediately, recalling the mages I’d… befriended while changing the original story.

At their core, mages were just researchers—give them funding, and they’d happily dedicate themselves to you.

I’d generously lent them money… at a very modest interest rate of around 300%, and naturally, we became close friends.

“That mana stone is high-grade. It’s difficult to process,” Leonard continued, clearly not expecting my refusal. “And since it’s dark-aspected, it carries certain risks.”

“All the more reason I can’t entrust it to you, Your Highness. I already have some… gullible—no, reliable mages in mind.”

“You know dark-attribute mages?”

“More or less.”

“In Singcester, mages are rare. How did you come to know them?”

“No, you may not ask.”

I couldn’t exactly explain that it was because I’d been interfering with the original story.

Realizing I’d sounded a bit curt, I added,

“They’re… valuable friends.”

“I see.”

“You’re not offended by my refusal, are you?”

“Of course not.”

He looked offended.

His lips were smiling—but the mood had clearly dipped.

Getting upset over being rejected twice?

I mentally added a note to my handsome men dictionary:

Leonard — terrible sense of direction, unexpectedly cute, but somewhat narrow-minded.

Still, as a princess, I couldn’t let the mood sour.

Clapping my hands lightly, I smiled.

“By the way, Your Highness—I’ve heard you’re known in Blake as a genius swordsman. Is that true?”

“…It’s nothing remarkable.”

“But the rumor reached all the way to Singcester! That must mean it’s impressive, right?”

“….”

He simply sipped his tea, his gaze drifting somewhere past my shoulder—clearly embarrassed.

“I’ve also heard you’re called a Fire Mage. Being skilled in both swordsmanship and magic sounds incredible. Could you show me some magic?”

I expected him to grow even more flustered at the second compliment.

Instead—

His expression hardened.

As he set his teacup down, the air seemed to cool.

“I do not use magic just anywhere.”

“….”

That wasn’t anger.

It was something else.

Most mages loved showing off—so I’d assumed a bit of praise would work.

But his reaction… felt restrained.

Curious, I stayed quiet.

Just then—

His adjutant approached from a distance.

Like most men from Blake, he had a broad build and striking features—definitely worthy of my handsome men list.

“Your Highness, I have an urgent report.”

“Eric. Can’t you see I’m speaking with the princess?”

“It’s fine, Your Highness. He seems in a hurry.”

I’d learned one thing: never let shadows linger on a handsome man’s face.

So, being considerate, I stood up.

Leonard rose as well.

“Princess, wouldn’t that be discourteous?”

“Then perhaps later, the three of us could—”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

Under Abigail’s sharp gaze, I snapped open my fan.

Right. I’m a princess. I should at least pretend to have dignity at my own birthday banquet.

“Then we’ll speak again later.”

Leonard and Eric left quickly.

Almost immediately, Abigail took their place.

She began lecturing me—gracefully, of course—about my habit of “staring at men as if I wanted to eat them.”

“But Abigail, out of the twenty men I danced with yesterday, eighteen looked… wronged.”

“Wronged? What do you mean?”

“They looked like they were about to cry. As if I should be the one apologizing.”

“And the other two?”

“They looked happy. Like I should be smiling back.”

Faced with Abigail’s horrified expression, I sighed deeply.

“Two out of twenty… a ten percent success rate for handsome men. At this rate, I’m not sure I’ll find any worth it during my world travels.”

Just then—

Something caught my eye.

“Oh? That man—Eric—must have dropped this earlier.”

I smiled, thinking it was a good excuse to meet him again—

But Abigail immediately held out her hands.

“Give it to me. I’ll have a servant return it.”

“Abigail, this looks important. Wouldn’t it be better if I kept it safe and returned it myself? Look—it’s tied with high-quality thread.”

The moment I touched it—

Crack!

A sharp jolt of static ran through my fingers, and I dropped the scroll.

“What was that?!”

A red magic circle briefly flickered over the parchment—then disappeared.

“Princess… wasn’t that magic?”

Abigail looked alarmed.

Fortunately, I recognized it.

A defensive spell to prevent tampering—and a tracking spell to record who touched it.

Magic used only on highly confidential documents.

Why was Eric carrying something like this?

Since only Abigail and I had seen it, I lowered my voice.

“Abigail, don’t tell anyone. I think I need to inform my brother.”

I immediately headed for Erdan’s office—

But he was in a noble council meeting, and Aurora was entertaining guests.

After leaving word for them, I returned to my study and stared at the scroll.

Then I made a decision.

To break the magic.

Yes, this was clearly an important Blake document.

But—

First, it was their fault for dropping it.
Second, it shocked me—and piqued my curiosity.
Third… if it really was that important, I’d rather read it than die mysteriously while holding it.

My reasoning was flawless.

Nodding to myself, I slipped on my magic bracelet and activated it.

“Sarah, come to my study.”

Sarah.

In the original story, she was an exceptionally talented dark-attribute mage.

When I was ten, she had been a fifteen-year-old prodigy at Elysium Magic Academy.

She also had a remarkable talent for deception and swindling.

I valued that personality more than her magic, so I supported her anonymously.

Later, when she tried to swindle me—

I hired dozens of lawyers and turned the tables, making her my sla—friend.

As a result, Sarah was obligated to fulfill 99.9% of my requests.

The remaining 0.1% only applied to things she truly couldn’t do.

So far, nothing had qualified.

An hour later, a woman with short, messy tangerine-colored hair appeared midair in my study.

“Princess, you called?”

“Sarah, why did it take you an hour? Teleportation takes less than a minute.”

At my complaint, she replied lazily,

“I’ve been researching magic and haven’t bathed in ten days. You wouldn’t want me showing up like that, would you?”