The Munchkin Princess Wants to Run Away - Chapter 24

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

“Your Highness has no need to use such a word as ‘dare.’ You are of the imperial bloodline, after all.”
The Countess smiled gently.
“Everyone who loves the Empire feels the same way.”
At the Countess’s words, Ivanna lifted the corners of her mouth to match her smile.
Love this Empire? The woman was deeply mistaken. Ivanna felt nothing but resentment.
If she could, she would flee this very moment—never mind love. All she felt was bitterness.
But she could not speak such truths aloud.
“How could I not love it? This beautiful nation.”
Instead, she offered the sort of words a princess would be expected to say.
“You strike me as remarkably mature. I fear I may have misjudged you, Your Highness.”
“Others likely think the same. It hardly matters.”
The tea had not gone as she’d hoped, and her energy was flagging. Though she’d used illness as an excuse, she’d taken the precaution of memorizing the latest dress styles circulating in the Capital.
Ivanna had hastily prepared an array of topics—designs that emphasized a narrower waist, new fabrics that had recently come to market due to the drought preventing tree growth, and much else besides.
But then came the moment.
“They say a rough fabric has become fashionable in the Capital lately. Have you heard anything of it?”
“Ah, Saburic! I only learned of it recently when I was having clothes made. It’s not nearly as coarse as one might think.”
The Countess, who had been sipping tea in silence, posed the question, and Ivanna answered swiftly.
It was as if she’d studied the exact answer key to an expected test—her spirits lifted instantly.
“This is the fabric used here.”
After the drought, there grew upon nearly barren earth a plant born from infused mana.
It had no flavor and no medicinal use, but when they sought to find purpose for it, they discovered its tough and resilient nature lent itself well to being processed into cloth.
Yet mere durability and toughness would never suffice for the garments of nobility.
But a special solution was applied, subjecting it to unique treatment that rendered it soft and imparted a subtle, elegant sheen.
Thus was born a precious and distinctive fabric highly favored by the aristocracy.
“Oh, you mean the portion layered over the chest, yes?”
“It’s quite soft and smooth.”
The Magical Processing had the added benefit of making it light—a boon, as the season was turning warm. It seemed capable of withstanding even the height of summer.
“It’s treated to absorb perspiration and remains breathable, so it stays pleasant even on oppressive days like these.”
Ivanna’s eyes widened in a perfect circle. Noticing the bright, crystalline gleam of her sky-blue gaze, the Countess paused for a moment.
“You seem to possess considerable knowledge of fabrics.”
“I learned these things while having clothes made for an extended journey.”
She could not tell the Countess the truth: this fabric had been developed by the Dandelion Merchant Company.
In a struggling region, searching desperately for any local specialty product that might sustain life, they had conducted experiments on whatever materials lay at hand.
In truth, the Magical Processing was the heart of this fabric. Ivanna had hired Academy students who needed income.
The mages involved in developing the cloth were satisfied with the enormous orders and substantial wages, and they labored ceaselessly to produce more.
The farmers who harvested the plant could live reasonably well, barring the hardship caused by water scarcity.
‘When I return to the Capital, I’ll need to make another journey to other regions, using travel as my excuse.’
Ivanna reflected on the circumstances that had led to the cloth’s creation.
Soon, even near the Capital, water would begin to run scarce.
“Is that so? Magically treated fabrics are hardly new—Saburic wouldn’t be the first of its kind. What do you suppose accounts for its popularity?”
At the note of suspicion in the Countess’s gaze, Ivanna paused to consider, then offered her thoughts.
“Perhaps because it focuses more on practical comfort for the wearer? People prefer what is convenient to what is cumbersome and difficult.”
This much she could safely say.
“Can one abandon the dignity of nobility for mere convenience?”
“Would it not be better still if there existed a way to maintain both dignity and bodily comfort?”
Elegance, she’d heard, doesn’t come from cloth alone. Yet here the aristocracy was, trotting out garment-related justifications as if on cue—such predictable thinking.
“And I’m told the sheen comes from powdered gemstones worked into the weave.”
Form-Sustaining Magic was inscribed into the fabric, ensuring neither tears nor the loss of the embedded gemstones.
Pride shone in Ivanna’s eyes as she beheld the masterwork she and her people had created.
Once the discussion turned to fabric, conversation that had languished in an awkward lull resumed, branching into various new topics.
‘How much longer does she intend to talk?’
Surely the Countess had claimed to be unwell for some time. Ivanna observed her, still sitting with rigid posture, and felt her own gaze grow dim.
She’d thought the tension had passed and they’d moved to ordinary subjects, but the Countess had tested her at every turn.
On many topics she could not simply laugh off, she’d been forced to rack her brains after so long without such exertion.
The Duke would not report everything directly—she herself had received no formal education since age ten, but the imperial family underwent basic instruction, so he’d likely consider her performance adequate.
Perhaps he’d think it only natural. Even a Duchess in name only must possess certain qualifications.
Having gathered her thoughts, Ivanna set down her cup and finally spoke.
“You don’t look well. Are you certain you’re all right?”
“A conversation this enjoyable after so long—I lost track of time.”
The Countess’s complexion had indeed grown paler than before.
Only now, thanks to her still-composed posture and sharp gaze, did Ivanna notice it.
“I too enjoyed our time together. I’m sorry I didn’t pay closer attention to your condition.”
“I kept you from your youth far too long. I’m grateful you indulged an old woman’s conversation.”
The Countess bowed lightly and rose from her seat, but swayed in that instant.
“My lady!”
Alarmed, Ivanna caught the Countess as she stumbled forward. The attendants behind her supported both her arms and settled her back into her chair.
“Are you all right?”
Ivanna steadied her racing heart and moved closer to the Countess’s side.
“Breathe… breathe…”
“Do you have medicine you take when you’re exhausted?”
The Countess only breathed heavily without answering, so Ivanna turned to the attendant who served her.
“There is a tonic to restore vitality. I’ll fetch it at once.”
Ivanna studied the weary Countess’s face and gripped her hand firmly.
“The attendant will bring the medicine shortly. May I stay with you until then?”
The Countess’s hand had grown cold, and Ivanna couldn’t bring herself to let go.
All she could do was gently touch the Countess’s lined hand and wish warmth back into it.
‘I hope it doesn’t hurt her.’
She’d suffered from Mana Erosion Disease for over a decade, she’d said. There couldn’t be many years left.
Commoners died within six months without the means to hire priests and mages for treatment.
Even wealthy high-ranking nobles were known to survive only ten to fifteen years with the illness.
Ivanna cradled the Countess’s cold hand until the attendant returned.
Though they had no real bond—the woman had only tested her—watching her suffer stirred something in Ivanna’s chest.
Without thinking, Ivanna wished earnestly for her recovery and shared her own warmth with her.
“There… I’m all right now.”
As warmth returned to the Countess’s fingertips and she regained awareness, she gripped Ivanna’s hand tightly.
“Forgive me for alarming you.”
Ivanna needed to see the Countess recover somewhat before she could truly feel at ease.
“Not at all. It was my fault for keeping you when you’ve been ill so long. Would you allow me to escort you to your bedroom after you take the medicine?”
Though Ivanna knew the woman wouldn’t welcome it, she asked with earnest urgency.
“You, Your Highness?”
“Yes.”
The Countess asked, puzzled, but Ivanna nodded firmly.
She simply wanted to see with her own eyes that the woman reached her bedroom safely.
Wasn’t it only natural that anyone, witnessing another’s suffering, would feel compassion?
Ivanna justified her actions to herself.
“Very well.”
The Countess paused momentarily, looking startled, then studied Ivanna’s face carefully before nodding her assent.
“Sigh…”
Leaving the Countess’s bedroom, Ivanna exhaled softly. She’d thought she’d seen plenty of poor and suffering people, and assumed she was beyond being shaken by such sights.
But watching someone collapse before her eyes had struck her harder than expected.
“Ivanna? Are you all right?”
Upon returning to the Annex, Anthony noticed her pallid complexion and asked with concern.
“I’m fine. I should have been more considerate of her condition.”
“You did everything you could. It seems you were the one more shaken by it all.”
Anthony quickly helped her change into comfortable clothes and led her to bed.
“Perhaps you should rest in your room this evening—just a warm soup? You look quite unwell.”
Ivanna nodded absently and let Anthony guide her along.
“I’ll prepare some warm tea. If you feel sleepy, don’t hesitate to rest. Understood?”
Sinking beneath the warm blankets, she finally felt the tension drain from her shoulders.
Though she could do things with water, healing lay beyond the reach of her abilities.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————