It turned out the situation with my wagon wasn't as bad as Bran made it sound like, because it was worse. When Bran led us to the road where I parked my wagon before helping with the defense of the village, what greeted us were dozens of wounded people being treated on the ground. The entire area around my wagon had turned into a field hospital where the wounded were lying on large blankets, their injuries being bandaged tightly with cloth.

There were dozens of injured people, some of them sporting wounds so large I was shocked that they were still fully awake, some even laughing as they chattered with the patients beside them. Despite the state of the injured people lying on the ground, the atmosphere was lively as everyone celebrated the successful defense of the village. Some of the women even brought food and drinks to go along with the celebration.

It was a very jovial scene that would have made me smile if not for the fact that every blanket, every bandage, and every fabric being used by everybody else was mine. Hundreds of silvers worth of clothing and textiles were being used as bandages to treat the wounded and as bedding for the wounded to lie in. I even spotted a man wrapping the dress I called a masterpiece around the large claw wound on his stomach, the blood soaking through the exquisite cloth. No no no no no. That is not what they were made for!

My instincts wanted to lash out and scream at everybody to get their filthy hands off my precious babies, but my rational mind knew it was the worse thing I could possibly do. Helping with the defense of the village had somewhat increased my reputation with the villagers, no matter how small, and if I started screaming at them that my precious products weren't for bandaging their disgusting wounds, then I'd be shooting myself in the foot. But that is MINE!

My inner turmoil lasted for a minute as I stared at the scene in front of me. I could sense Taloress fidgeting and squirming in place beside me as my emotions went into turmoil, but trying to stop myself from being angered at what I was seeing was as useless as trying to forcefully cheer myself up after Mom died by just thinking happy thoughts.

At last, my rational side won out and I fell on my hands and knees in despair. I knew Mr. Marion was just being controlled by my will and that I could easily make it seem as if I was calmly watching the scene, but my emotions were too strong that I didn't bother consciously controlling Mr. Marion's actions. I couldn't even stop Taloress from squirming as if she had ants in her clothes.

“E-Er, I'm deeply sorry about this, Mr. Marion. But I promise you, everything will be paid for!” Bran said in a hurry as he saw me fall to my knees.

“Bah, stop being overdramatic,” Belka said. “What happened to the arrogance and pride you've been showing me since day one? Unless you're all bark and no bite, I doubt this situation is enough to set you back.”

I ignored them as I lamented the loss of all the clothes and fabrics I had been creating and hoarding for months. Yes, I could make hundreds of clothes in an hour, but the clothes in my wagon weren't just ordinary clothes. They were some of my finest work that I had carefully designed and labored over a long period to distract myself from the pain of Mom's death when I began my journey. They were works of art, and they were being used as mere bandages!

Taloress crouched down beside me and began poking me in the side, but I ignored her.

“Head Hunter! Chief!” a female voice suddenly called out as I felt someone in my fabric sense approaching our group. I didn't look because I was busy moping, but from the voice, I knew it was Selise. “I'm glad you guys are all right! Have you seen— Oh, there you are, Loress! Is, uh, is Mr. Marion all right?”

“He's fine. He's just being a drama queen after seeing his wagon ransacked and his products being used as bandages,” Belka replied.

In my fabric sense, I felt Selise approach me with hesitation. Of course she's hesitating. She's probably scared of the power I showed her earlier, I thought dejectedly.

But contrary to my expectations, Selise still approached and crouched down beside me. Wow, it seems I underestimated this girl.

“Mr. Marion? Are you al— wait, are you crying?!”

“I'm not crying!” I suddenly shouted as I stood up, controlling Mr. Marion's insides to subtly wipe away the salty water that somehow found its way dripping down my cheeks. “I am just… assessing my possible choices forward after this untimely setback in my business!”

Selise quirked an eyebrow. “On your hands and knees?”

“Ideas come to me easier if I'm on my hands and knees,” I said before coughing loudly on my hand. “Anyway, I think Bran and I will be having a long discussion about my recompense.”

“We will be glad to pay you back for everything you've done, Mr. Marion,” Bran said seriously. “Now, how about we go to someplace quiet where we can discuss your payment?”

With a nod, I followed the old man as he led me to a nondescript building where hopefully, I could get paid for having my wagon robbed and ransacked.

●●●

“You didn't have to be so harsh to Mr. Marion, Aunt Belka,” Selise said with a dissatisfied look.

“You know me, Selise. That wasn't harsh at all,” Belka replied with a grin. “And I told you to stop calling me ‘Auntie.’ I'm not that old yet, and I'm supposed to be your commander.”

Selise sighed in exasperation before turning excitedly to her friend, Taloress. “Are you fine, Loress? I saw your fight earlier and you were so cool! How do you even move that fast?!”

Taloress put her hands on her hips and puffed her chest out, exuding a prideful aura. She waved her hand at Selise, the simple gesture somehow managing to convey the message of “Go on, praise me more.”

Selise giggled as she clapped her hands. “I see you have something in common with Mr. Marion, huh?”

“I bet if Taloress could talk, she'd be babbling nonsense as Marion does,” Belka said with a chuckle, to which Taloress crossed her arms and whipped her head to the side. “Anyway, I still have a lot of things to do, what with the broken village gate leaving us vulnerable, so I'll be going now. When Marion finishes his chat with the old man, tell him I said thanks, all right? You too, Taloress. Thanks for your help.”

Without waiting for a response, Belka quickly walked away towards the village entrance, leaving Selise and Taloress alone.

“Say, was Mr. Marion really crying back there earlier?” Selise asked curiously.

Taloress glanced in the direction where Mr. Marion left earlier and gave a curt nod.

“Woah,” Selise said with surprise. “I thought it was just his over-the-top personality again, but I didn't realize he was really crying.”

Selise knew she shouldn't be feeling happy when she learned that Mr. Marion was crying. No matter how she put it, it was a shitty thing to feel for someone who was obviously sad. But simply knowing that Mr. Marion was weeping was enough evidence that he was human too. He can blast away monsters with nothing but his will and Taloress can move faster than any man, but at the end of the day, they were human, just like her. And that was what made Selise happy.

“Come, Loress,” Selise said excitedly as she took Taloress' hand and started pulling her towards the crowd of injured people lying on blankets. “I'll introduce you to Terence. Before I came to you guys, I brought him here when he passed out at the gate. He's my… er…”

Selise found herself lost for words as she struggled to find the proper term for their relationship. Months ago, she had confessed to Terence about her feelings, which was a fortuitous event since it turned out he had the same desire for her. Unfortunately, the situation was a bit more complicated than that, making Selise and Terence's relationship with each other difficult to put a label on.

Taloress gestured for Selise to continue where she left off, but the young woman didn't seem to know what to say.

“He's my… friend?” Selise said bashfully. She was so unsure that she was asking Taloress, who simply gave her a blank stare. “Oh don't look at me like that. My relationship with Terence is not clearly defined yet. You don't see me questioning your relationship with Mr. Marion, do you? You know what, now that we're talking about relationships, what is Mr. Marion to you?”

Taloress put both her hands on her cheeks as if she was getting embarrassed.

“Stop that, I've watched you long enough to know you're not really embarrassed, Loress,” Selise said with exasperation. They just became friends for less than a day, but it was already enough time for Selise to learn how to read Taloress' emotions through her body language. “So what's your relationship with him?”

Before Taloress could give an answer, a loud voice suddenly called out behind them. “Selise!”

Selise froze in place and slowly turned around, a nervous expression on her face. A large man was stomping his way to them, his bearded face contorted in worry. The blacksmith's apron he usually wore was gone, replaced with thick plates of heavy steel armor stained with dried blood and a large warhammer strapped to his hip.

When Thom Bersk arrived in front of Selise, the large man picked her up and crushed her in an embrace. “Are you alright? Belka told me you were on the front lines.”

“Ow ow ow! Dad, I'm fine, but I won't be if you keep crushing me while you're in that big tin can of yours!”

“This is not a tin can,” Thom grumbled before glaring at her daughter. “You were grounded. You were not supposed to join the hunters at the gate. You were supposed to retreat along with the rest of the women and children.”

“I can make my own decisions, Dad. You can't tell me what to do,” Selise answered back with a glare of her own.

“As long as you live under my roof, you are not old enough to make decisions of your own,” Thom replied. Before his daughter could lash out further, he turned around and started walking. “Come. Terence is a tough one, you don't need to coddle him. He'll come home when he wakes up. In the meantime, we need to make sure our shop wasn't ransacked. Unlike Mr. Marion's wagon, our shop contains far more dangerous objects than cloth and pretty dresses.”

Selise glared at her father's back. She wanted to stay in place and disobey her father, but in the end, it would be pointless. The last time she did so, Thom simply carried her with his log-like arms all the way back to their house while she flailed like a child. It was embarrassing since the rest of the village got to see it.

“Sorry, Loress, but I gotta go. Looks like I'm gonna have to introduce you to Terence next time. Tell Mr. Marion I said hi, okay?” Selise said as she pulled Taloress into a hug, which the masked woman returned happily. “See you again next time, alright?”

Taloress waved goodbye at the departing Selise and stood in place, watching the building where her creator was talking with the village Chief. Some of the villagers in the area shot her inquisitive looks, probably curious about the mage's companion, but she dutifully ignored them, her attention focused on waiting for the return of Mr. Marion.

Mr. Marion, who, in his fatigue, forgot that he left his puppet outside without consciously controlling her actions.

●●●

Inside the library of Rose Castle, Christine Hensley Caldwell Ocrana, the First Princess of the Kingdom of Ocrana, sat hidden behind one of the looming bookshelves that reached all the way to the high ceiling above, her nose buried in a book titled “The History of Thera.” She had begun reading it less than ten minutes ago, and yet she was already more than halfway through the book. Her eyes roved over each page for only a few seconds before turning to the next, not even stopping for a single moment until she finally reached the end of the book.

Christine sighed as she closed the hard-bound book and returned it to its place on the shelf. From the outside, it looked like the small girl sitting on the floor had simply flipped through the pages of a book without even reading it, but in truth, Christine had read it fully, not to mention the fact that every word, punctuation mark, inkblots, and other small details in the book were stored firmly inside her mind. If someone were to ask her on what page was the thirty-sixth comma located, she would have easily told them it was on page eight, the third paragraph, fourth sentence.

But despite having the ability to receive, process, and store knowledge like a supercomputer, Christine still felt like she was lacking too much information. Sure, she had only been halfway through the books in this castle's library, but the fact that she still felt dumb even after reading hundreds of books was not a comforting thought. This is the most useless library I have ever visited, Christine thought.

Ever since she had been able to walk on her own, Christine regularly went to the library, trying to gather as much information as possible regarding the world she was reborn into. Luckily for her, being born a princess meant she had unlimited access to the library's books, which she was starting to understand was a big boon in a world with no internet. Unluckily for her, though, the castle's books focused mainly on the Kingdom of Ocrana's culture, history, and local politics, along with a lot of steamy romance novels that made Christine's young mind cringe.

The only book she could find that could tell her more about the world was “The History of Thera,” and that didn't even go into the specifics. All it focused on was the adventures of the Hero that saved the world from something called the Corruption.

“If I want to learn more about this place, I'd have to leave the castle,” Christine muttered before looking down at her body. Her small, childish body that she was still getting used to. As a toddler, Christine was prohibited from leaving the castle, which meant her past few years were spent within the resplendent halls of Rose Castle, although she was starting to see it more as a fancy-looking prison.

“Maybe I could convince Mother to take me out on a field trip or something?” Christine had read a lot about the Kingdom of Ocrana in the books, from the beautiful sights that keep attracting tourists from other nations to the dangerous places where ancient monsters slumbered.

Christine's young heart couldn't help but flutter in excitement as she imagined going on an adventure in a magical world, but the notion was crushed when she looked down once again at her body, which was garbed in a fancy blue dress made of one of the most expensive silks and fabrics in the kingdom, a garment only a princess like her could afford. The reminder that she was a daughter of royalty was enough to dissuade her from her delusions. A princess who had a lot of responsibilities had no time for childish adventures.

It wasn't like Christine was complaining about her status. Sure, a princess had extremely limited freedom, but if it meant she was able to live luxuriously without having to worry whether she would be able to eat the next day was the greatest boon she could imagine. Christine shivered as she remembered how she lived when she was a kid back in her previous life. But she couldn't help but become rueful of the burdens her new status had brought.

As Christine thought about her new life, she heard the sound of doors slamming open followed by footsteps. There were no other doors in the library except for the entrance. The moment the sounds reached her ears, Christine's mind immediately started processing the information.

The sound is sudden and loud, which probably means the person entering is in a rush. The footsteps are not the stomping of a soldier's sabatons nor is it the clacking of a woman's stilettoes, but that of a gentleman's formal shoes. There are currently guests in the castle, but they should all be in the Great Hall to attend the party. Even if they wanted to visit the library, they wouldn't slam the doors open as if this were their home. This means the only possible people who entered through that door are Lord Barrister, Father, or Randal. I'm sure the Chamberlain and Father have no spare time to visit the library, so it could only be Randal.

It took Christine less than a second to process all that information and before the interloper could even take his fourth step, she was already moving stealthily between the shelves. Christine listened closely to Randal's footsteps, using the volume of the sounds to extrapolate his exact location within the library so she could avoid him.

“I know you're here, Christine!” a young male voice shouted. “Come out already! Everybody's waiting for you at the party, and you're embarrassing Father!”

I knew it was him, Christine thought with annoyance. Randal was her older brother, which means like her, he was a member of royalty. The Crown Prince, in fact. But unlike her, Randal was a responsible and diligent member of the royal family, never shirking his duties and always giving his best in everything he does. That was according to the Queen.

But if Christine were to be asked, Prince Randal Darvan Corvin Ocrana was an uptight, self-righteous, annoyingly handsome goody-two-shoes who always pestered her in everything she does. Christine already had enough lectures from her mother every day, but Randal would add his own by pointing out everything she was doing wrong and telling her what she should and should not do. If she had the height and strength to do it, Christine would have smacked Prince Charming on the face long ago.

“Come out already, Christine! Stop being so childish!” Randal shouted again.

“I'm literally a child, you idiot! I can be childish whenever I want!” Christine shouted back before quickly changing her location. Just as she expected of her idiot brother, Randal ran towards where he last heard Christine.

Using the opportunity, Christine quickly walked towards the exit quietly while Randal shouted behind her again with annoyance after being fooled by a child. Idiot, Christine thought with a snicker, but the moment she passed the exit, she saw a shadow in her peripheral vision coming for her. Shit, it's a trap!

With a literally instantaneous reaction speed, Christine quickly moved away from the shadow, which turned out to be the scowling Chamberlain lunging for her in an attempt to catch her. Since she dodged, the middle-aged man ended up catching the floor instead with his face, landing on the hard stone floor with a pained grunt.

Before Christine could laugh, she suddenly found herself being hoisted up in the air by a pair of strong arms wrapped around her. She flailed and struggled, but no matter how hard she tried to pry the arms loose, they didn't budge.

“Gotcha, princess!” a rough voice shouted from behind Christine with glee.

“Morgan?!” Christine cried in shock. “What are you doing here?! Aren't you supposed to be overseeing the castle's security?!”

“Don't worry, kiddo, there's already plenty of security around. They don't need me, so might as well find the troublesome princess everyone's been looking for for the past hour!” Morgan said with a grin, his hands still wrapped tightly around Christine's waist.

“Please refer to Princess Christine as Your Highness, Mr. Morgan,” the Chamberlain said with an acidic tone as he slowly stood up from the ground, patting his formal suit to remove the dust.

“Then call me Sir Morgan, oh honorable Lord Barrister,” Morgan replied mockingly, a challenging smile on his face. “If you're going to act like an elitist bastard, then you might as well call me on my proper title.”

Lord Barrister's face turned red in anger, but before he could go on a tirade, a third voice interrupted their conversation. “Go bring your spat outside, gentlemen. Or are you proud to show it right in front of Her Highness?”

The two men immediately went meek and looked away from each other, suddenly finding the wall very interesting to stare at. Christine turned towards the third person and her expression twisted into a scowl. Walking towards them was a beautiful woman dressed in a maid's attire that reached all the way to her ankles. Her face was graced with a smile that somehow looked deadly, complimented by the sharp glint in her eyes.

“Lorana! So you were the one who was behind this trap!” Christine cried out as she pointed accusingly at the maid.

“I know not of this ‘trap’ you speak of, Your Highness,” Lorana replied without batting an eyelash. “We were simply passing by this hallway while looking for you, and it just so happens that you stepped out of that door at the right time.”

Christine glared at the maid. Out of all the castle's staff, Lorana, the Head Maid, was the only one she couldn't outsmart, even with the help of her power. Every time Christine misbehaved, her parents would always send Lorana after her, and no matter how much she tried to outwit the maid, Lorana would always be able to catch her.

“Ah, I see you guys were able to catch her,” Randal said as he exited the library. Like Christine, the Crown Prince's hair was black, cut short enough to prevent it from going to his face but still long enough that it could be styled. He was wearing a formal attire composed of a lavishly embellished tunic and trousers, along with a cloak over his shoulders lined with exotic fur. His handsome face was frowning when he turned to look at Christine, who was still being carried by Morgan. “You caused a great deal of trouble, Christine. With your absence, Father and Mother had to delay the celebration for an hour.”

“Then you should have started without me,” Christine grumbled as she crossed her arms and looked away from Randal. “You're the ones who wanted to throw a stupid party anyway.”

Randal sighed in exasperation and signaled Morgan to put Christine down. Her mind quickly calculated the chances of her escaping if she bolted now and decided against it. No sense in doing something with almost zero chance of possibility. “The party in the Great Hall is for you, Christine! How are we going to celebrate your fifth birthday when the celebrant herself is not there?”

Christine snorted. “Is it really for me, though? You say the celebration in the Great Hall is for me, yet I don't even know a single person in that room except for you, Mother and Father, and the castle staff.”

“They're people of important positions, Christine. This party is a chance for you to make connections and make friends with the children of the other nobility.”

“You're not fooling anyone, Randal,” Christine said angrily. “I know you and Mother and Father just want me to mingle with the other nobles, probably to show off their smart prodigy of a daughter who could speak at the same level as adults at the age of five.”

Randal winced at Christine's words. “I know you don't want to mingle with the other nobles, but this is for your own good, Christine.”

“It's not for my own good, it's for yours!” Christine shouted as she glared daggers at her brother. “You and our parents just want to take advantage of me so they could easily make connections with other nobles! Don't forget, Randal. I'm smarter than you, and I know well what is good for me!”

Randal's face twisted in anger. A five-year-old calling herself smarter than him should have been a laughing matter, but when it was true, it was enough to hurt his pride. He was about to shout back when he suddenly froze in shock. Christine was crying.

“I just wanted to celebrate my birthday with my family,” Christine said with a softer, quivering voice, her eyes staring at the fl00r as she gripped her dress in her small hands. “Why did you have to mix in business and politics to what should have been a celebration for me?”

Christine tried to hold back her tears, but it turned out to be impossible. She felt her cheeks burning in shame for displaying such an embarrassing sight to not only her brother, but also to the three highest-ranking people of the castle staff. What am I even saying? Christine thought as she wiped her tears. It should have been easy to hold back her sadness, but for some reason, after reincarnating, she found it harder to suppress her emotions. I'm already a grown woman inside. Only a child would cry like this.

But no matter what she told herself, her emotions still rose to the front. The reason why she had been hiding away in the library was that she was angry at her family for making such a big deal out of her birthday, inviting all sorts of powerful people she didn't even know. She didn't care if her party was a grand celebration that spanned the entire castle or if it was a simple meal at the table. All she wanted was to be together with her family as they celebrated her fifth year in this foreign world.

But why did they have to bring in the nobles who she had no relationship with? Why did they have to make her birthday a part of their political schemes as if it was something else to be taken advantage of? Birthdays were supposed to be a celebration with the family. Ever since Brogen and Aunt Elena had taken her in, her birthdays, which had just been normal days before that, had become something very special that she looked forward to every year. To see something special to her being taken advantage of was painful.

For a few moments, the hallway was silent save for Christine's sobs. Morgan and Lord Barrister had awkward expressions on their faces as they fidgeted and looked everywhere but the princess, while Lorana simply looked on with a neutral expression.

At last, Randal took a knee in front of his little sister, leaning down so his face was level with Christine's. He started bringing his arms up, but hesitated. When he felt Lorana's foot digging into his back, his hesitation disappeared and he wrapped his crying sister in a hug, caressing her head gently. “Shh, it's okay, Christine, let it all out. It seems I've been a bad brother, huh?”

Christine thumped her hands weakly at his chest in response to his words.

“Alright, alright. I'm sorry, Christine. I knew you hated large parties after last year, but I didn't think you'd hate it this much. And for that, I'm sorry.”

Christine continued crying in his chest, but this time, she hugged him tightly as well.

“Don't worry, Christine. I'll talk to Mother and Father about this, and I will assure you that this will not happen again.”

As the brother and sister embraced, Lorana covertly signaled Morgan and Lord Barrister that it was time to leave. The two men had only been too happy to obey as they quickly followed the maid out of the hallway to give the two siblings some space.

After a while, Christine broke off from Randal's embrace and glared at him as she sniffled. “You will not say one word of this to anyone, Randal.”

The young man gave her a mischievous grin, but when she raised her fist threateningly, Randal raised his hands in surrender. “I know, I know, I was just joking. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, although I'm not so sure about Morgan. He loves talking when he's drunk.”

“He'll keep it secret,” Christine said confidently. “I have some dirt on him. If he as so much tries to tell anybody else what happened here, I'm going to tell Lorana that he'd been pilfering liquor from the cellars. Her punishment would surely be enough to scare him.”

Randal shivered. “Y-Yeah, Lorana's punishments are definitely not to be underestimated. Anyway, sorry Christine, but I'm still gonna have to bring you to the Grand Hall. I know you don't like it, but at this rate, everybody there would be waiting until evening. Mother was pretty adamant earlier that the celebration will not start without you.”

Christine sighed tiredly. “Fine, I'll go. But I need to fix myself up first. Thanks to you, my dress is all rumpled and crinkly.”

Randal offered his hand, which she took after a microsecond's hesitation, and they started walking towards the uppermost floor of the castle, where Christine's room was.

“Randal, why won't Mother just start the celebration without me?” Christine asked a minute later.

Randal smiled down at his sister. “There's no way Mother would let the greedy fat nobles take a slice of the cake she baked herself for you before you could even have the first taste.”

Christine's eyes widened before a second even passed after Randal's words. “She baked a cake by herself?!”

“Yes,” Randal said with a chuckle. “Just for you.”

“The Queen baked a cake just for me…” Christine muttered as she stared blankly ahead. For a moment, Christine halted her power, returning her brain to its usual processing speeds. Having a supercomputer for a brain had lots of advantages, but at times like these, Christine deactivated it. Just so she could savor the thought of her mother, the Queen of an entire nation who had to be away most of the time because of her many responsibilities, set aside a time so she could bake a birthday cake for her daughter all by herself.

Maybe the party wouldn't be so bad after all, Christine thought as her steps sped up without her knowing. Randal smiled warmly at her as he matched her small strides.