Lena hated the oppressive heat. The sticky sensation of something clinging to her skin was revolting.
After all, back when she was a young girl, any man who approached her only had one thing on his mind: to grope her. And the women, they only looked at her with disdain and misunderstanding.
Hands reached out only to exploit or harm her. How could she ever accept such things?
She also despised insincerity. Calling someone “big brother” or “big sister” without any blood relation, wearing matching items to confirm a supposed friendship—these acts felt nothing but deceitful to her.
That’s why…
“That’s why I said, I don’t need this damn tulip anymore!”
It was the day of the Spirit Festival. Lena, being overwhelmed with yellow tulip flowers, swung the stem she was holding vigorously and shouted loud enough to compete with the surrounding noise.
“Hey, stop that!”
“If you do that, the petals will scatter!”
“Hold it properly, you idiot, Lena!”
Immediately, Emilio and the others voiced their complaints.
They too had a single yellow tulip flower pinned to their chests.
Apparently, the yellow tulip symbolized “friendship,” and it was customary for the members of the Hanna Orphanage to exchange matching flowers and pin them to their chests on the day of the Spirit Festival.
A matching flower on the day of the festival. To Lena, this was one of the most oppressive, insincere, and disgusting acts possible.
Naturally, she had no intention of wearing such a flower. But the moment she ventured out to the festival without any decoration, Emiio and the others pitied her with sorrowful eyes and said, “Oh, poor thing.” They insisted on giving her the tulip flowers they received as freebies from the stalls, claiming it was “too burdensome to carry them.”
“Begging for freebies… Seriously, you guys need to stop.”
Lena was already weary just an hour into the Spirit Festival. She was supposed to be chaperoning Emilio and the others, but they paid no heed to her attempts to restrain them.
They barged into stalls, engaging in relentless haggling.
Anne would start with small talk and lavish praise on the shopkeepers, ending up with three free candied apples.
Marcel would casually remark about the poor quality of a product, extorting powdered cheese as hush money from a cheese vendor. And Emilio, with innocent eyes welling up, would gain sympathy and get his knives sharpened for free.
Their negotiating skills were so formidable that the shopkeepers would eventually cry out, “Just take this tulip and leave us alone!” resulting in Lena ending up like a florist. These children were truly masters of haggling.
“Anne the flatterer, Marcel the murmurer, and Emilio the crier. There’s not a single soul in this area who doesn’t know the trio of haggling siblings.”
Behind Lena, who was visibly embarrassed, a laid-back voice resonated. It was Bruno. He too had a yellow tulip pinned to his chest. Despite being the last person one would expect to wear a flower, the pale petals surprisingly complemented his tanned skin.
Bruno squinted his eyes, peering through the crowd, and pointed towards the stalls.
“Look over there. The pot shop owner has changed his staff. The vegetable shop owner too. They’re on high alert. It seems they’ve brought in veteran sellers for the Spirit Festival instead of temporary hires. Emilio, stay sharp.”
“Got it!”
At Bruno’s added caution, Emilio and the others responded enthusiastically. Their eyes sparkled with determination, as if a burning flame flickered within them.
“Leave it to us, big brother Bruno! In the name of our master Leo, we will make a killing today!”
“Swapping out the sellers now is pointless. We have the ‘True Eye’ trained by big brother Leo, who can see through anyone’s character at a glance!”
“With our three types of attacks, we’ll leave no stone unturned!”
“Seriously, just stop it, all of you…”
Lena muttered, exhausted. She was an amateur when it came to the act of buying and haggling, though she was adept at selling thanks to her marketing studies. Fortunately or unfortunately, she had never struggled with money and found it wiser to pay the asking price rather than spend time negotiating.
She wondered if these children had any sense of shame. Lena shot a resentful glance at Bruno.
“Hey, you should seriously try to stop them, Bruno. Even if they’re orphans, this kind of relentless haggling is embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing? Why?”
Bruno tilted his head expressionlessly.
“Look. The kids are lively, and the shopkeepers seem to be having fun. In this downtown area, a compliant customer who just pays the asking price is dull. It’s the back-and-forth of give-and-take that brings out the real joy of business.”
His calm statement made Lena suspicious, so she scrutinized the shopkeepers’ expressions.
“…”
Though some seemed angry and others appeared desperate, they did have vivid, expressive faces.
(Am I being fooled? This overly expressive downtown quality is hard to understand.)
With a distant look, Lena forced herself to let go of the matter.
“…Well, if they’re having fun, whatever.”
It wasn’t that she couldn’t understand, but the topic wasn’t worth her mental effort.
Bruno, catching her murmur, raised an eyebrow.
“Good for you, Lena. Today… the kids are smiling. Does it put you at ease?”
At that, Lena retorted sharply in Elrandic, expressing her true feelings best in that language.
‘What are you talking about!? Whether the kids are smiling or crying is none of my concern!’
‘You say that, but you were frozen when they were crying during the Snowflake Festival.’
‘That was just…! I was just at a loss for words because of how awfully they were crying!’
Yes, during the Snowflake Festival, when they found out that Leo had been taken by the prince, Emilio and the others had thrown a huge tantrum.
“I thought Leo would praise us if we made a lot of money!” they cried, snotty and inconsolable, leaving Lena at her wits’ end.
But then Bruno had scolded them, saying, “Don’t expect the candy to remain on the table forever, fools. You didn’t eat it fast enough,” and suggested, “If you’re upset, make even more money at the Spirit Festival. Where there is money, there is Leo. He might show up for it.”
At that, they had stopped crying and became determined.
(What’s with these kids…)
Even though Lena had tried to comfort them, they threw away easy money-making schemes and just wanted to see Leo.
This both irritated and hurt her.
(—No, no, no! Why should I be hurt by this?)
She was more bothered by the fact that Leo’s straightforward, underhanded tactics were preferred over her excellent marketing strategies.
It wasn’t a childish, foolish sentiment like frustration over not being able to replace Leo or sorrow over not moving the kids with her words.
‘I am not a “big brother”…!’
The children who knew her true identity never called her “big brother Lena.” She didn’t want such oppressive, immature, and insincere relationships.
This was fine.
(And besides, in a few days, we’ll return to our original bodies.)
When Leo’s letter arrived, asking for an extension until the week after the Spirit Festival, Lena had been delighted by the unexpected fortune. Though she had mixed feelings about the awkward parting with Leo, she was glad to spend the festival in her current form.
However, as the days passed and the deadline loomed, she began to feel more anxious and regretful.
Two weeks. Ten days. …One week left until they returned.
After the festival, she would start counting the days daily, wistfully watching the members of the orphanage.
Yes, she had to admit it in her heart.
Lena didn’t want to return to her original form. She didn’t want to navigate noble society as a marquess’s illegitimate daughter. Nor did she want to live in seclusion, hiding from those who coveted her unusual beauty.
She wanted to continue basking in the sun, making a fuss with these cheeky, defiant, and honest kids.
(This sentimentality isn’t like me.)
But if she were to be called “big brother” and receive their smiles, she might expose these shameful feelings. She didn’t want to do anything so unsightly.
So this was fine. The children remained distant and never called her “big brother.” She didn’t need matching tulip flowers. She would never become their “big brother.”
Lena turned away, lips pressed tight, while Bruno watched her with a curious gaze, though he offered no comment. Suddenly, the children, who were gleefully hoarding their newfound treasures from the stalls, shifted their delighted expressions to ones of curiosity.
“Hey…what’s that?”
Their attention was drawn to a crowd forming a long line. It included a bent old woman, a young child, and a man in tattered clothes—people who could be categorized as “socially weak,” slowly approaching.
Despite their shabby appearance, their faces were radiant with excitement, as if they were plotting something joyous, carrying an air of sacred mission.
“What’s this? There’s a lot of them.”
Bruno tilted his head at the unusual sight. As he surveyed the crowd, he eventually murmured to no one in particular, “People from the marshes? No, there are some from the western slums too…”
“Oh! Did you see Miss Chris just now?”
“What? Where?”
Eager-eyed Emilio spotted a familiar woman among the crowd and shouted. Marcel and the others, fond of Chris, searched for her figure.
“Really? I didn’t see her. You must be mistaken.”
“She’s there! Look, further back! Her brother Gustav is with her too!”
Emilio pointed earnestly, but the line was so long it disappeared from view. Moreover, curious onlookers were joining the procession, increasing the crowd.
At the front, a few people were blowing trumpets and calling out loudly, seemingly inviting others to join the parade.
“Now, let our voices be heard!”
“To the royal palace!”
“Onward to the palace!”
“Let’s make this a historical Spirit Festival!”
Their lively declarations made it unclear whether they were protesting or celebrating.
Nevertheless, the cheerful way they announced their intentions made it seem like a delightful festival idea.
“Hey, let’s join them!”
“What!?”
Lena, usually disinclined to join such events, was startled, but the children, eyes sparkling with excitement, didn’t wait for her answer. They crammed their pockets and pouches with their loot and rushed into the line.
“Hey…! Wait…!”
Lena frowned as she watched them head straight into what seemed like a suspicious situation.
“Let’s go, Lena.”
It appeared Bruno’s curiosity was piqued, as he effortlessly joined the children. Lena, looking as if she had swallowed a bitter pill, followed reluctantly.
“Isn’t this just the usual parade to see the royals wave?”
She muttered in frustration, but this seemed slightly different.
(There are…too many people?)
The crowd, swelling as they neared the palace, disregarded the guards and crammed into the palace square. This was different from the usual orderly audience with the royals.
“…What’s that sound?”
Finally finding a spot in a corner of the square, narrowly avoiding being jostled, they heard a deep rumbling. No, it was a voice—an overwhelming number of voices shouting in unison.
The sound rapidly spread, and Lena and the others soon realized the shout was, “Long live the Gold Coin King.”
“The Gold Coin King? Why?”
The current emperor was known as the Gold Sword King. Lena frowned as she overheard people around her, who seemed to share her confusion, eagerly explaining.
“We live near the marshes. The water shortage was tough, but the next emperor, the Gold Coin King, saved us! He used some magical cloth to summon water!”
“Magical cloth?”
The listener tilted their head in confusion, and the old woman continued proudly.
She explained how water shortages and contamination had plagued the marshes and slums. The kind-hearted prince had sacrificed himself to summon purified water through magic.
His friend persuaded the spirits and provided the magical cloth at a low price.
However, because of this, the prince was being harassed by the old nobles and was even trying to distance himself from a beloved girl—a kind, beautiful maiden who could communicate with spirits.
“Wow, this prince sounds amazing.”
“Quite the gallant fellow.”
The festival-loving townsfolk nodded in admiration, and in their slight drunkenness, they decided to support the prince.
“Sounds fun. We just have to shout, right? Long live the King!”
“Long live the Gold Coin King!”
Thus, the prince’s deeds and the chants praising him spread. Emilio and the others joined in, excitedly.
(Wait…what?)
Only Lena grew pale, her mind racing.
Magic cloth summoning water. She remembered Leo had asked her about such a structure before. She brushed it off, sensing trouble, saying, “I’ll explain when we meet.” She couldn’t believe the prince had completed it.
(So, Leo’s mention of a water-summoning cloth was related to this. And the prince’s beloved, the kind maiden—is Leo. So…he saved the country…Saint?)
The terrifying thought halted her mind. Clenching a yellow torep, Lena stared into space, sweating coldly.
The selfless saint, Leonora. The prince’s beloved. The prime candidate for the first wife.
In just three months, she had managed to create such dire flags.
(Calm down, Lena. He might not have done anything heroic for the country…)
If she gained the title “Savior of the Nation,” Lena couldn’t return.
In fact, she absolutely did not want to return to her original body.
(If the whole country knows about her, how can I escape…!?)
Calm down.
Lena desperately tried to reassure herself. Even if Leo became the “Savior of the Nation,” as long as her identity wasn’t revealed, she might manage.
Yes.
Unless, drawn by the crowd’s roaring cheers, the prince and “Leonora” appeared on that balcony—
Suddenly, a thunderous cheer erupted, and Lena looked up.
The handsome prince, clad in a white surcoat, stepped onto the balcony with dignified strides. In his arms was a girl in a white dress with black hair.
“What…?”
“No way, that’s…”
“Leonora-sama…no, Leo-nii?”
The children, on tiptoe, muttered in shock. Bruno, observing with crossed arms, nodded heavily.
“It’s definitely them.”
As the prince, beaming radiantly, raised the girl in his arms, the crowd’s excitement peaked. Countless arms shot up, and the deafening cheers spread.
In the center of it all, Lena could only scream.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
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