A Fortune-telling Princess
Chapter 12
“Lady.”
“What is it?”
“The duke has sent word, asking if you would take tea with him.”
“Tea?”
“Yes.”
“All right.”
Lately, she had often taken tea with the Duke of Sorpel. Each time she went to place flowers in his study, she would sit and share refreshments with him.
It was not a bad development, so Camilla readily welcomed those moments. She needed to lengthen their time together however she could, to win his favor.
But then—
“Come in.”
“......”
Why is he here?
When Camilla went to the duke, she found someone already there, sitting with him.
“You’ve come?”
It was Ravi.
“What are you doing? Come sit here.”
Disgusting bastard.
Ravi, smiling as if nothing were amiss, gestured for her to join them. Camilla clicked her tongue inwardly and sat down.
He looks pleased with himself.
His expression over the teacup was brighter than usual. Had something good happened?
It was suspicious. If Ravi wanted private time with the duke, he would take it; but to invite her into it? That was unlike him.
“Father.”
“Yes?”
As expected, Ravi set down his teacup, as if there was something he wanted to say. His mouth twitched, barely containing a smile.
“I’ve been selected to present my thesis.”
Ah.
So it was that day.
Camilla immediately understood.
It was an event she had witnessed in every cycle of this world.
Once a year, the Magic Tower selected its brightest mages to present before a great gathering of their peers. For a mage, it was a place of honor, a very important stage.
No wonder that fox can’t keep his grin down in front of the duke.
His pride was plain as day.
But too bad. Camilla clicked her tongue quietly.
It should be about time now.
She flicked a glance toward the door.
Bang!
Right on cue, someone burst in without knocking.
It was Jector, the duke’s aide. His face ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) was radiant, about to split into a wide grin.
“My lord!”
“What is it?”
“A great victory, my lord, a great victory!”
“What?”
“Lord Ludville has finally located the rebels’ stronghold and wiped them out completely!”
“......!”
“And it was by Lord Ludville’s own battle plan, no less!”
“Is that true!”
The Duke of Sorpel sprang to his feet, his face lighting with joy. At last, the long war against the rebels had reached its end.
“Yes, the report has already reached the Imperial Palace. His Majesty the Emperor was overjoyed and sent Lord Ludville a personal letter.”
“Ha... ha ha!”
“As expected of our young lord, ha ha!”
The duke and Jector laughed together, meeting each other’s eyes in triumph.
This is how it always goes.
Clicking her tongue again, Camilla turned her gaze subtly to Ravi.
The air around him had collapsed. Though he tried to act composed, the tremor in his fingertips betrayed him.
What did you expect?
It had always been this way.
The unlucky wretch.
It was never deliberate on Ludville’s part. Ravi’s misfortune was simply that rotten.
And of all days, his presentation and the victory banquet fall on the same night.
On that day, while Ravi stood at the Magic Tower, the ducal house would hold a grand banquet for Ludville’s triumph.
All eyes in the house would inevitably turn to the banquet, not to the presentation.
“I’ll excuse myself now.”
“Hm? Why? Stay a little longer.”
“No. I remembered something I must attend to.”
“Very well, very well.”
The duke, all smiles, rose slightly to see Ravi off.
“I’ll take my leave as well.”
Camilla rose discreetly and slipped out with him, leaving the duke and Jector still exchanging laughter.
Click.
“......”
The moment the study door closed, Ravi’s face hardened. He bit his lip slowly.
He had thought this time he might finally receive proper recognition.
Was it impossible with just this?
All those months wasted on such research felt meaningless.
He should have just studied attack magic and gone to the battlefield.
Pathetic.
“Brother, that’s impressive.”
As his mood sank lower, a familiar voice pierced his ears.
“You’re even presenting, after all.”
Camilla had stepped up beside him, her eyes wide in feigned admiration.
“Are you mocking me?”
“I mean it.”
“......”
“Only mages with real results and effort get chosen for that, right?”
“What would you know...!”
Tap.
“Good work.”
“......”
She gave his shoulder a light pat as she passed by. Ravi stood staring blankly after her.
“What on earth is wrong with her lately?”
****
“Lady, this looks marvelous on you!”
“I’ve never seen this dress suit anyone so well!”
The dressmaker who had come to the ducal house and the maids assisting her showered Camilla with praise.
Listening to their honeyed words, Camilla calmly examined her reflection in the mirror.
Even I have to admit it looks good.
The crimson dress glowed like sunset, its color striking against her pale skin, lending her an uncanny allure.
“You’ll be the most beautiful woman at the banquet!”
The ducal house was in chaos, preparing for the sudden banquet. Ludville, the duke’s eldest son, had won a crushing victory over the rebels and was soon to return.
No rest at all—they’re throwing a banquet the moment he arrives.
Shouldn’t a man be given time to recover after war?
Camilla shook her head at the sight of preparations timed to Ludville’s return.
Well, I suppose this too is politics.
On the day of the banquet, the entire domain would also hold a festival.
It was to spread the word of the House of Sorpel’s achievement, and Ludville’s in particular.
And, she had heard, it was also to suppress grief over those who had fallen on the battlefield.
“The jewels are stunning too!”
The accessories prepared with the dress were all striking, beautiful designs.
“I’ll make sure you shine that day!”
Donna clenched her fist with determination, making Camilla smile faintly.
“I’ll leave it to you.”
It might indeed be good to stand out a little that day...
“Don’t cause trouble.”
The cold voice came from behind. Turning, Camilla found Ravi, scowling.
“Why come here just to pick a fight?”
“You have a record. Last time you—”
“I admit it.”
“What?”
“I admit it. I used to grab hair pretty well.”
She kneaded the air with both hands as if seizing hair. Ravi’s brow furrowed deeper.
She really had changed.
Once, at such words, she would have flushed and snapped or sulked. Now she only grinned.
“Brother, did you have clothes tailored?”
“What clothes?”
Ravi’s face stiffened instantly. Was she asking if he had prepared something for the victory banquet?
Had she forgotten what he had that day?
“Your presentation clothes.”
“...Forget it.”
But at Camilla’s follow-up, he turned away curtly, hiding his embarrassment.
She’s mad.
It was absurd. That Camilla had forgotten his presentation entirely—that even she paid no mind to it—stung him, and he was annoyed at himself for feeling stung.
What did it matter if she forgot?
“There’ll be comparisons.”
“I said forget it. Clothes don’t matter.”
“Suit yourself. I warned you.”
“You’d better not make a scene at the—”
“I admit it.”
Kneading the air again.
“......”
Exhausting.
Ravi let out a small sigh and left the room. Why had he even come here?
Camilla ignored him and turned her attention back to the other dresses and jewels.
****
“Hey, Ravi.”
The day of the presentation.
Early in the morning, Ravi left for the Magic Tower, finished his preparations in his lab, and entered the hall.
“......”
As he stepped inside, someone came quickly toward him.
It was Jaile, grinning as he always did.
Why was the man, who usually glared daggers at him, suddenly acting familiar?
“Prepared well?”
“More or less.”
“As if you’d ever do anything ‘more or less.’”
“What are you getting at.”
At Ravi’s question, Jaile’s smile widened.
“Look there—my parents.”
He slung an arm over Ravi’s shoulder, pointing to a cluster of seated people.
“And that’s my younger sister.”
It was obviously his family.
The younger sister, in particular, was strikingly beautiful, drawing the eyes of men around her.
“Who came from your house today? Surely all of them? Hm... no one yet?”
He glanced around theatrically, smirking. Ravi finally understood.
“You don’t mean... no one came?”
Jaile’s performance of surprise was exaggerated, his whole body feigning shock.
Ravi felt no anger. Childish bastard.
“It’s none of your business.”
“How is it none of mine? I just feel sorry for a colleague who couldn’t even bring his family to such an important day.”
“......”
“Well.”
Jaile’s voice dropped lower.
“When the real son has returned, who would bother with a fake?”