The Villainous Princess Wants to Live in a Gingerbread House - Chapter 56

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Villainess Princess Wants to Live in a Pastry Shop
Episode 56

Everything Kalno’s hand touched, everything his gaze reached—tree and soil and human and shadow alike—turned to ash in an instant. Black ash that consumed all it touched.
His manner of taking life came as easily as a seasoned farmer sweeping wheat into his hands as he strolled through an abundant autumn field.
Lilmari thought she would likely never witness such a chilling sight again. The Northern Region had learned that day what no one could have told them in words: overwhelming individual power, once it crosses a certain threshold, permits not even applause.
“I see. So that Imperial Heir isn’t human—she’s a Spirit?”
“It may well be so. Truth be told, I harbor some suspicion myself.”
Kalno’s remark, delivered with a shrug of his shoulders, was plainly a jest. Lilmari’s jaw dropped so far she thought it might strike the ground. Kalno caught sight of her reaction and let out a quiet laugh.
“I found it remarkable as well.”
Perhaps the reason the girl could approach him with such innocent candor was because she had not witnessed him as he was on the battlefield. Kalno had not entirely set aside this suspicion.
Yet among all the people he had encountered in Jedo, scarcely a handful had witnessed him exercise his power firsthand. And yet not a single person in the city had been the first to take his hand.
None except Anastasia.
“You appear to be quite shrewd and bold. Are all the Imperial bloodline of your Empire like that?”
“Not entirely, no.”
Kalno spoke words that might have sounded irreverent to the Imperial household, yet without hesitation. Neither the speaker nor the listener seemed particularly guarded.
“If you wish to reclaim lost territory, you would do better to pray that Alexei’s son proves incompetent.”
It was to say that nothing could be accomplished in Alexei’s generation. Lilmari’s eyes lowered.
“I have no interest in barbarous methods. Nor do I consider the land to be lost.”
“Yet you glared at him as though you meant to kill him.”
“That I dislike violence doesn’t make me a fool who can’t count. And I didn’t glare at him as you describe.”
“Perhaps you couldn’t see his gaze because Ahti was standing behind you.”
“Ah, he…”
Lilmari cleared his throat with a slightly embarrassed expression.
“He is…among the Elves, rather hard-line in his convictions.”
“I see. I did think him unfamiliar when I first saw him.”
The implication was clear: had he crossed paths with Kalno even once on the battlefield, he would have ceased to be hard-line about anything. Lilmari inwardly conceded the point even as he cleared his throat again and changed the subject. He had come all the way to the Imperial capital and concluded a Peace Accord; he saw no benefit in lingering on such matters.
“But that Lumen Basiliche…”
Lilmari ran his finger along his lip. His voice trailed off as he recalled the final taste of that dish in the banquet hall.
“I had vaguely assumed the palace chef would be the Empire’s finest cook, but it truly was remarkable. I wasn’t merely flattering when I said I wished to learn the recipe.”
“Did I not tell you that the Imperial Heir prepared it herself?”
“Pleasantries exchanged in a banquet hall need not extend beyond it.”
“The Empire has no need for such lies.”
…
Kalno narrowed his eyes at Lilmari, whose mouth merely moved soundlessly. The Elf could only furrow his brow at Kalno’s faintly mocking expression.
“I doubt the Imperial Heir was even five years old when this was made.”
“Yes, she is ten years old now.”
“Whether five or ten, it’s equally hard to believe she made that cake.”
“Which is why she asked me to prepare the Cashew Cream—her hands lack the strength for it.”
…!
Lilmari’s expression shifted to one of genuine shock. He had dismissed the claim that Kalno made the Cashew Cream as mere courtesy, meant to soothe their feelings. Kalno, finding something amusing in that face, turned away.

* * *

The banquet dance following the talks was entirely formal in nature. The primary reason was that the Elves had shown no interest whatsoever in dancing. Consequently, the nobles and court officials who had taken to the floor soon found themselves feeling like entertainers performing for the Elves’ amusement.
The second reason was the wholesale departure of high-ranking dignitaries. To be precise, only the Imperial Heir remained at his seat until the end; Anastasia the Imperial Heir declined to attend, citing the lateness of the hour, and both the Emperor and the Elves departed not long after. As a result, the orchestra found its work concluded with relative ease.
“Arten!”
Arten Juban, one of the orchestra’s musicians and an accomplished harpist who had been granted the honor of performing at the Peace Accord banquet dance, spun around at the sound of his name called out—only to find his eyes widening in astonishment.
“Asha…? It’s Asha, isn’t it? Asha!”
To his great surprise, the very girl he had been searching for these past days now stood before him. Arten, oblivious to the shocked expressions of his fellow musicians, swept the girl—whom he cherished like a niece—into his arms. A yellow bird that had been perched on her shoulder startled at the motion, fluttered upward, and settled back down.
“I heard from your mother and father, and you wouldn’t believe how I’ve searched for you here!”
“Me too! You said you were coming here. But I couldn’t figure out where you were…”
“The Imperial Heir arranged separate lodgings for me, so I’ve been staying there. And you? Have you been well? When I heard you’d gone to the Imperial Palace so suddenly, I was beside myself with worry. What are you doing here? The work isn’t too hard, is it? No one has been unkind to you?”
Arten’s words tumbled out rapidly.
Invited as a performer to a recent Imperial Palace reception, Arten had visited an old acquaintance—a couple to whom he was close—to share glad tidings, but there he had heard news of their daughter.
Ever since learning that circumstances beyond their control had sent their daughter alone to the Imperial Palace, Arten had been imagining every conceivable misfortune.
The yellow chick perched on the young girl’s shoulder chirped as though laughing at something.
“Nothing’s wrong! No one’s bothering me. I’ve been making pastries at the Imperial Palace.”
“Pastries? You’re making pastries yourself?”
“Yes. I even baked cookies. I’ve been carrying these around, hoping to give them to Arten when I see him.”
The young girl then rummaged through her dress and pulled out several small bundles decorated with pale ribbons. There were quite a few of them.
“The rest I’ve been sharing with my friends.”
“Friends? Ah…….”
Following her gaze, he glanced back to see the other musicians staring at him with expressions that seemed to have lost all composure. The young girl asked him again.
“How are Mother and Father? Are they well?”
“Of course. Their circumstances have improved greatly too. They’re in good health. But more than anything, they miss you very much.”
As Arten spoke, a strange feeling came over him. The Yuri couple he knew from before had never been afraid to do whatever it took for their daughter. If their daughter had come to work at the Imperial Palace at such a young age, they would have pitched a tent on Jedo itself.
“Tell them I miss them too, will you? If you ever have a reason to visit our home.”
“That wouldn’t be difficult, but won’t they be coming to visit you at Jedo soon enough?”
“Mm…… I’m not sure how that will work out.”
The young girl spoke with a spoiled tone, yet her expression was remarkably mature. Arten felt a pang of sympathy and set her down, gently smoothing her hair with his hand.
“Moving isn’t a simple matter, of course, but try not to worry too much. But tell me—why did you suddenly come to the Imperial Palace? What brought you here?”
“Oh, that’s because my cousin is here.”
“You have a cousin? This is the first I’ve heard of it…….”
“My father wasn’t on good terms with his siblings. But since I’ve turned ten, I needed to have the Spirit Ceremony performed.”
Arten grasped the situation. It seemed the couple had thought it better for Asha to be exposed to various cultures and learning at Jedo, difficult as that might be, rather than grow up in the mountain frontier. It appeared they had made a difficult request of their relatives who lived on Jedo.
‘Yes, that makes sense. Just look at the child’s clothing.’
It was a child’s dress so delicate and ornate that Arten had never seen its equal—beautiful in a way that even a great noble’s child could hardly wear.
‘This side of the family must be quite wealthy. There’s no other way she could be dressed like that.’
“Arten, do you have to leave now?”
“Yes, well…… I’ve been invited from far away, and I need to leave tomorrow to make it on time.”
Invitations had become far more frequent since he’d become a musician at the Imperial Palace banquets.
“I’m so relieved to hear you’re doing well. I’m delighted to be able to bring such good news to your parents…….”
“I’m always doing well. You be careful on your travels.”
“If your cousin ever troubles you, tell your parents—or if not them, then tell me. You do know how to write a letter, don’t you?”
The young girl laughed again and nodded. When the yellow chick beside her chirped once more, she waved at him, saying she had to go now.
Arten wanted to escort the young girl to where she needed to go, but he sensed that she knew the layout of the Imperial Palace far better than he did.
As Arten waved goodbye, the girl turned and disappeared beyond the corridor. Only then did he notice the gazes of the other musicians upon him.
“Ah! I was so distracted I failed to acknowledge you all properly. My apologies. She’s a child I cherish as though she were my niece, and I was surprised to learn she’s working here at the Imperial Palace.”
“No…… ah…… no……. Who…… whose child…… is she?”
“There’s a couple I visit often in the lower city. We’ve formed a friendship because of their deep appreciation for music. Ah! I do hope you might join me someday. Though the couple isn’t in the best circumstances and can’t offer much in performance fees, we can share far more valuable conversations.”
“What, what is that couple’s name?”
Arten thought his colleague was prying into his personal affairs, but he shrugged and answered.
“They’re called Yuri and Irina. The daughter’s name is…….”
“Anastasia?”
“No, Asha.”
“Asha is a diminutive of Anastasia.”
“No, her name is simply Asha……. Why do you ask? You’ve gone pale. Are you unwell?”
At Arten’s question, his colleague looked as though he wanted to scream, but instead spoke in a hushed voice.
“Arten, do you happen to know the name of His Majesty’s youngest son?”
“Hmm? I’ve heard it mentioned. What was it again? Um, Yuri…….”
As Arten searched his memory, his face too began to grow troubled.
The colleague asked again.
“……And the name of the Empress?”
“…….”
“It’s Irina, if I’m not mistaken. There was quite a commotion at the time—Irina Nelin, the only daughter of Lord Nelin, married the Prince, and then she left the Imperial Palace.”
“…….”
“And this year, His Majesty left his youngest granddaughter behind at the Imperial Palace.”
“…….”
“I believe that was her just now.”

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