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macbetha · 3 years

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below the cut, you'll find an interest check chapter for quatervois, a nancy drew pc fic. it's francy and also my idea of my absolute dream game. please let me know what you think and enjoy!

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After Ned breaks up with her and she loses her father, Nancy struggles to find her old vigor for detective work. While on vacation in London with Bess and George, Nancy accepts the urgent invitation to return Blackmoor Manor. Her English getaway quickly turns into an investigation once Nancy realizes the true reason Nigel Mookergee asked her back to the moors. Finding Deirdre Shannon at the manor under the same pretense only sets Nancy’s nerves further on edge. It isn’t until the Hardy Boys show up in Blackmoor that Nancy gets a glimpse of who she once was. With a manor full of suspects and a glass heart cracked open, Nancy is determined to find the truth.

Dear Ned,

How are you? It’s been a while. I’ve always started off my letters telling you about my latest case, but I’m not on one right now. I’m sure that’s hard to believe. Bess and George have whisked me away to London. I’m sure you would love it here. This is the first time I’ve seen Bess and George since I sold the house in River Heights. I stayed with Kyler and Matt in Ireland for a while. I needed a change of scenery. Their daughter just turned two. I’m somewhat jealous I’m happy for them. Anyways, I miss you I hope you’re doing well. I’m sure New York is lovely at Christmas time. I hope Stephanie is I wish Stephanie well How is Stephanie? I hope Stephanie is doing all right. I appreciated the card Stephanie sent when dad passed away. Warm regards, Merry Christmas, Love Nancy

She stares down at the letter as if the red ink were her own blood. It feels just as wounding, seeing her emotions made physical in the words on the paper. Only when a tear splatters on the page does she break free from her trance to the past. Nancy is the only person in her hotel suite, yet she works to rid the evidence like one of her own suspects. She pulls her feet up in the desk chair and crosses her ankles, holding the arch of her right foot – it recently became the victim of her latest culprit. Nancy’s foot got caught under the getaway car’s tire, and she is lucky to even be able to walk after the event. Months later, it’s stiff as hell with the most intense cramps she’s ever endured. Heart racing to forget the night it happened, she focuses on the snowfall out the window – counting little sparkles of snowflakes, though the world blurs when she squints. The doctor thought her failing sight as well as the daily headaches were on account of being hit in the head so many times.

She busies herself with choosing a postcard to send Hannah and Nancy selects one with a cat dressed up as a royal guard. The cuteness puts a smile on her face, however small – she hopes it’ll do the same for Hannah, but there is no telling. Nancy had the gut-feeling Hannah was lying about recognizing her the last time Nancy visited the nursing home. Torment swirls like wind to fallen leaves. She doesn’t have Hannah or Togo to come home to. Togo passed just before Nancy’s thirty-second birthday, and Carson fell ill soon after that. Nancy looks to her hotel bed where Mr. Woogle Woggle sits tucked between two pillows. It seems he is the only one that hasn’t left her. A knock on her hotel door reminds her that is simply not true. Nancy rights herself, fixing her posture to the stance of someone passionate, and she opens the door. Bess and George greet her with blazing smiles; Nancy gives silent thanks for their presence in her life. She would still be in Scotland with Kyler and Matt, had Bess and George not insisted to take her on a vacation. Nancy imagines that their insistence was due to them wanting to keep Nancy from spending Christmas alone on the road again like last year. “Nancy,” Bess stresses. “You’re never going to guess who we ran into in the lobby!” Horror strikes dull and loud in her ears. Surely, it’s not Ned. Please, don’t let it be Ned. George says, “Give you a hint: they were involved in one of your cases.” Nancy’s despair leaves her throat tight. She glances down the hallway, preparing to yank Bess and George into her room and dial her Cathedral contact to get them set up in witness protection.

“That didn’t narrow it down at all, George,” Bess says with a roll of her eyes. “Nancy’s been on hundreds of cases.” Nancy’s strain creeps into her one word: “Who?” Bess and George beam. “Maya Nguyn!” ++

Nancy follows Bess and George to the elevator in a hurried stupor. No thoughts can she conjure as she steps free from the elevator walls which seem to close in on her; Nancy marches into the lobby and notices a woman in the crowd of tourists. She stands with her back to Nancy, her hair drawn up in a bun, and her chin is lifted high with no time for games. Maya turns around and her bright red mouth stretches into a smile. “Nancy!” “Maya,” Nancy huffs in disbelief. She tenses in Maya’s sudden embrace before all but falling into it. This is something good I did; Nancy cherishes with shut eyes. This is someone I helped. When Maya pulls back, Nancy says, “What are you doing all the way out here? You said in your last letter, you were still in Washington.” “My house is technically there,” Maya nods. “But I get to work on the road more these days.” Her brows crease over a sympathetic smile. “Bess and George tell me you’re kind of in the same boat.” Nancy shrugs, struggling to hold Maya’s concerned gaze. “It’s just easier,” Nancy lies. Maya seems to see right through it, but she doesn’t speak on it. Nancy will have to thank her later. George says, “Maya offered us free tickets to a play she’s reviewing tonight and get this – it’s at the Globe Theater!” “Remind me what’s so special about a globe theater,” Bess sighs, checking her nails. “Not ‘a’, Bess, the.” George shakes her head. “The Globe Theater – well, technically it’s a reconstruction of the first one, but it’s where Shakespeare wrote his plays.” “It’s the opening night of a new play,” Maya explains. “And Nancy, you’ll never guess who the star is.” Nancy cannot take anymore guessing games. “Brady Armstrong.” Maya blinks. “Well – yes, actually.” Nancy frowns. “Wait, really?” “Yes,” Maya laughs. “I’ll be conducting an interview with him after the show if you want to go backstage and chew him out for all the stunts he pulled back in the day.” A spark of vigor heightens Nancy’s senses. That doesn’t sound bad at all. Still – “Are you sure we won’t be a distraction or –” “Nancy.” Maya’s hand falls on her shoulder. “You saved my life. You’re the furthest thing from a distraction.” Gratitude floods her before Nancy nods. “All right, then.” +++ The walk to the Globe would be depressive what with the sky being the color of a soaked napkin, but the Christmas decorations lift everyone’s spirits. Nancy limps by a shop playing Christmas oldies through the open door and she is borne back to her father listening to records over cocoa on Christmas morning. She tries to push the memory from her mind, then she thinks of building snowmen with Ned and having snowball fights that turned into the sweetest kisses she’s ever received. The music won’t stop. There are three Christmas trees in the display window and their flashing lights strike pain behind Nancy’s eyes. She pants through a sensory overload before someone squeezes her hand. Maya smiles in understanding as Bess and George walk obliviously in front of them. “It’s hard,” Maya says. “This life on the road. You pick up a few habits.” Nancy squeezes her hand in thanks before tucking her own in her peacoat’s pocket. “I want to enjoy this,” she admits quietly. “But I think the holidays are always hard.” Maya nods. “It won’t be this way forever, Nancy,” she promises. “I’ve got my fingers crossed for you.” Cross your fingers, there’s a story behind this door! Nancy swallows around the lump of panic in her throat. She plasters on a smile. +++ The theater is packed with noise and touching and all-around boisterous patrons. They find their seats in the crowd and Nancy doesn’t watch where she’s going – she must keep her eyes on the open ceiling to remember how to breathe. She sits down at the end of the group and Maya passes out programs. Quatervois, the title reads. Bess says, “What does that mean?” “It means you’re at a crossroads,” Maya says. “A turning point.” “Sounds a little dramatic,” George grumbles. Nancy traces the swooping lines of the title with

her thumb, repeating the process until the lights go down. The masked chorus emerges from the shadows and gives a synopsis: Down from Olympus a great hero emerges, Mighty in his strength and courage! A choice he must make Shall he ignore fate? Will he choose love, Or follow his destiny there-of? When Brady saunters on stage in an impossibly short silk chiton, it’s an out-of-body experience for Nancy. He still hasn’t grown his ponytail back, so Simone could very well be in the audience right now. Nancy rubs her aching temple at the thought. Brady begins his journey as the character Diogenes, a demigod that was supposedly – according to the play’s plot – written out of ancient Greek mythos. Diogenes must defeat those who want to leave him forgotten in history, lest he admit that he can’t win this fight and live his life like everyone else. Nancy assumes the play’s ending too soon. She imagines this will be a droll experience written only to paint Brady as a glorious hero that can conquer anything – but she is quickly surprised. Brady is stabbed in the final act and addresses the audience in a wail: And so my story ends a breath too early, No time to even be weary! The moon shall pass over my corpse, And the sun will beat down on my ashes with no remorse. Today, I have failed my quartervois Alone, forgotten, and lost. When the curtain falls, Nancy’s mouth is parted in disbelief as a tear burns down her cheek. They don’t receive a proper goodbye with Maya since the rest of the crowd is bustling toward the exit. She does have time to say that Brady is producing a new television series and will be scouting some locations further into Essex; Maya will be following the film crew there for test shoots. She embraces each girl individually and holds Nancy for a beat longer, whispering, “You’ll call if you need to talk?” “Of course,” Nancy says by impulse. “Same to you.” +++ Nancy is proud of herself for going out, but when she closes the door to her hotel suite, her back thunks against the wall and she must take deep breaths for several minutes. She decides to treat herself to a bubble bath even though it’s nearly midnight. She rolls her hair up into a bun and looks at it in the mirror, how haphazard and messy hers is in comparison to Maya. Nancy isn’t jealous – but she can’t help but notice when people are thriving. She wants to figure out how to do it herself and hasn’t found the cure yet. The bath is claw-footed and deep. Nancy sinks into the steaming water before goosebumps rise on her arms, and her freckled skin blushes in the heat. The water does wonders for her foot. She eases her head back on the lip of the tub and nears a light doze when her cell phone rings. It rests atop a stack of towels by the tub. Nancy wipes her damp hand off before looking to the screen. Frank Hardy. Nancy answers and taps the speaker button to relax back in the tub. “Hey.” “Hi, Nance,” Frank says, his voice a familiar balm after such a stressful time. “What’s going on?” “Things aren’t too different from last week’s call,” Nancy smiles. “But I’m on vacation with Bess and George.” “Oh wow! That’s awesome. I hope it’s been fun.” Nancy’s glazed eyes blink. “Yeah,” she rasps. “It’s nice.” She clears her throat, searching for her old enthusiasm. “But what about you? How’s Joe?” “Same as usual, a pain in my ass.” Nancy chuckles before a distinctive lift raises Frank’s voice. “We’re actually getting ready to get on a plane for a case – but I wanted to make sure everything’s good with you.” Nancy’s hand closes in a fist on her raised knee. “Gosh, it’s been so long since I’ve been on a case.” “Not really. You just took a few months off to stay with Kyler, right?” “Yeah, but that’s the longest I’ve ever gone without a case since I started.” “I’d give you ours if I could,” Frank says. “Really not looking forward to such a long plane ride. Oh, they’re calling for our gate – but do you want me call you when I land?” Gratefulness is a warm glow in her heart. “No, that’s okay – but

thank you. Be safe on your trip and tell Joe I said hi.” “Can do.” Frank pauses. “I – tell Bess and George I said hi.” “Can do,” Nancy repeats. She chews her lip. “See you soon?” She feels foolish for saying something when Frank is headed to a case. While the weekly phone calls have kept Nancy sane, it would be even better to see the Hardy Boys. “I’ll make it happen,” Frank promises. “See you, Nance.” After they hang up, Nancy struggles to get out of the tub with her swollen foot. She gets into a pair of sweats and wraps up some ice in a washcloth, then holds it against her foot. Nancy mulls over her conversation with Frank, wondering how much of her poor mood could be due to not solving a mystery. With a deep yawn, she tosses the soaked washcloth in the wastebasket, not able to walk to the bathroom to put it in the sink. She cuddles up to her teddy bear and flicks the lamp off when her phone rocks to life on the nightstand. Bewildered, Nancy turns the lamp back on to look at the screen. The number is unknown; she sees her hand tremble around the phone. She lets the call go to voicemail before the phone vibrates to life once again. Bracing herself, Nancy answers. “Hello?” “Yes, hello – I’m trying to reach a one Nancy Drew?” The voice is British and eerily familiar, like Nancy heard it in a dream. “This is she.” “Splendid! Oh, you wouldn’t believe the trouble I’ve gone to in order to find your number.” “Sorry? Who is this?” “Why, Nigel Mookergee. We met at –” “Blackmoor,” Nancy whispers. “Nigel, hi. What’s going on?” “I’m afraid the manner of my call is not a jovial one,” he says. “How should I explain this? Well, I suppose from the start. You see –” He sighs. “Don’t tell anyone I’m speaking of this, but the Penvellyns have fallen into a bit of… financial trouble.” Nancy says, “’Financial trouble’?” “It’s certainly not my business to spread, but yes. It’s not that they are a poor family by any means, but one diplomat’s salary is not enough to keep up a castle.” Nancy sits up, grabbing a pen and notepad from her bedside table. She jots as Nigel continues. “The Penvellyns began to host historical tours at the manor – much to Mrs. Drake’s dismay, I might add. Jane wishes to expand the business to the paranormal side of things, and I don’t quite agree with the idea myself, but she insists it’s just what the manor needs.” Nancy finishes scrawling and says, “So, you’re working for the Penvellyns now?” “Yes. I’m afraid there’s been some situations – inconsequential events, if you will – that need a glance over.” Nancy arches a brow. “You mean an investigation.” “Ah, such a serious word. I simply want to make sure we are fully prepared to expand the business.” Nancy’s eyes narrow. “Right. When would you need me there?” “As soon as possible -” Nigel catches himself. “I mean, at your earliest convenience.” Nancy glances over her notes, running her hand over the page filled by red ink. She closes her eyes against the sight and says, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

thank you so much for reading! please let me know what you think and stay safe. and please consider following me here and on twitter! xoxo

#nancy drew #nd #nancy drew pc #nd pc #CUR #clue crew #blackmoor manor #curse of blackmoor manor #francy #frank hardy #nancy drew fanfiction

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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 26 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

The Jotnar were tactical with their interactions with Nigel. They ensured they were never alone in his company and that those who were there as their buffers were not allied to his as personal friends. Thor ensured he was included in the group to assist the Jotnar when he was present.

Ella’s knowledge of Vanaheim assisted the Jotnar in what little talks they had with them. It was not the time for trade agreements, but celebration, though that did not prevent such talks. No sooner did the Vanir realise that Ella had informed her husband of their supplies and their worth, they ceased all pretences and spoke plainly, allowing there to be preliminary discussions and a further date set to address said trade better. Loki thanked his wife for her information, Ella elated to hear she had been of assistance.

The trip to Vanaheim was a successful one, the Jotnar had to agree. It was uncomfortable for them in many respects, the heat was something they had never had to endure before and had Ella not assisted them so diligently with her seidr, it would have been a horrific experience for them, far too hot and humid.

The different customs they learned whilst there were a shock for them also, especially as a lot of them did not make any sense. Loki did note the act of kissing more after Ella pointed it out to him, so too did he point it out to Helbindi, who found himself more intrigued than his brother by the act, even using the fact it was not a Jotnar custom to convince a pretty Light Elf not much older than himself to allow him to learn with her. Loki used the comments Ella made on the Light Elves liking the kiss on the hand to charm a Lord and Lady of Alfheim adequately enough for them to wish to discuss ice for their home with the Jotnar. He realised quickly his wife held information of great value to the realm, even on matters of other realms. He also noted her comments on being a stranger on a new realm rang true. It was harder than he would care to admit, trying to ascertain what was the correct thing to say to not offend, that was the most difficult, more than once Ella had used her seidr to whisper in his ear what would be deemed an impertinence to one realm was a compliment on another and when such was applicable. He also noticed that there was a never-ending stream of people who wished to introduce themselves to him. He never knew who they were, but they knew him and more concerning, they knew a lot about him that he was uncertain how they could know. But again, Ella was in his ear, giving names, titles and realms as they met them, all of them seemingly knowing her, and to his surprise, her knowing details on them, even ones that he would have thought inconsequential. He realised then that her comments on remaining quiet and listening to Thor were solid advice. She rarely said anything on herself, instead, permitting others to speak about themselves, something most seemed more than happy to allow. He watched as she soaked in their information, most of which he knew would never be of any relevance, but nonetheless, she did so. It taught him more of her character as he observed her.

She stood beside him throughout any formal event, the picture of a perfect royal wife in many’s eyes, his own included. He was not blind, he knew she was good at what she had to do, even if their marriage was a complex one. The few nights of sharing a room with her had not been entirely terrible either. She kept to her side of the bed, was quiet and respectful of his space and did not insist on taking over any particular part of the room as he had heard some women were prone to doing. Their shared rooms also had them talk more and in doing so, allowed him to learn more of the woman he was forced to call his wife.

As much as the trip to Vanaheim was good for relations and though they would most certainly be going back in the near future for true agreements and talks, Loki was elated when the day came to go back to Jotunheim. Being gone from his home realm for ten days was incredibly difficult when he had never done so before, it also came with the added strain of being on a new realm that was entirely too hot, the customs were so vastly different, as were the people and to add to his worries, he had a Vanir prince trying to cause issues for them throughout. It was, without doubt, more stressful than even having the Allfather on Jotunheim, at least with that, he was safely at home, here, he was entirely out of his element. Seeing everything be readied for their return to Jotunheim settled his anxiousness substantially. He noted that everything for Ella was readied and boxed before noting something on the top of her luggage. A letter with her name on it in writing he had not seen before. The only reason he had half an inkling whom it was from was because of the large embossed seal on it, showing two ravens and a horned helmet, indicative of Odin's seal. He wondered if the Allfather had truly been ill before the festival or if there was something more to his reasoning for not being there. He knew that the absence of the Aesir royals broke Ella's heart in some manner, she clearly missed her home and family, she confessed even missing Thor some bit through everything so if the Aesir royal had lied if his reasoning for not being there, he knew she would be severely affected by it. The seal had been broken and were he to be so inclined it would be easy for him to read it, but he did not wish to do so. He was trying to build something with her, as Ella had stated, all they had at present was honesty, he would not jeopardise it, not for a letter that he doubted had any importance. Instead, he turned away, thinking of what else he needed to organise for himself.

“Nigel is livid.” He turned to see Ella close by. “Warn everyone.”

“What happened?”

“King Wilhelm found out he wanted to give us a less than pleasant parting gift.” She informed him.

“What did we ever do to deserve this?” Loki felt himself getting angry. “I understand the anger for the war, but this…”

Ella gave him a sympathetic look before gently putting her hand on his arm. “Some people are just asses.” He looked at her. “There’s nothing we can do about them, we can only deal with us. We do not start anything but ensure they rue the day they think to do this. It’s not fair that it is you but you are strong of mind, I fear if he were to go for one less mentally strong. Perhaps that is the only good thing in this.”

Loki eyed her carefully. For a moment, he thought she was glad to feel Nigel was bothering him, but he could see she was worried for him. Inhaling deeply, he nodded. “We keep composure and we go home, away from this monster.”

“Have you everything packed?” She asked.

“Yes, you?”

“Yes, I just need to burn something.” Loki’s brow furrowed at her comment. He watched as she took the letter with her father’s seal on it and it burst into flames in his hands. For a moment, he was terrified she would burn herself, but the flames did not seem to bother her. “It’s seidr fire, harmless to me.” She assured him on seeing his concerned face. “I burn anything with my father’s seal, if someone were able to place it on a document of note, it would cause terrible issues. That and I do not wish to allow people to see private matters between my parents and myself.”

“That is both wise and your own business,” Loki stated diplomatically. “So long as everything is alright.”

Ella gave him a small smile. “It is fine, thank you. Thor had a letter with him from them, simply explaining that they were sorry to not be here. Father is still getting his legs back under him and Mother is dealing with the realm in his sickness. Thor is good at doing it for short periods, but he is still learning, so they rather he does not see it too much now, he will realise it is not as fun as he thinks it is and would be at risk of abdicating.”

“There are days I feel similar.”

“Though you have your moments, you are far more mature than he could ever wish to be. You are ready to take the throne tomorrow, him….maybe in a millennium, with a lot of work on his behalf.” Loki raised a brow. “My father has not even got that left in him, I think, as does Mother, that he is holding on simply to prevent Thor from getting it too soon.”

“I can see his reasoning.” Was all Loki could reply, not wanting to insult Ella too greatly.

Loki felt relief surge through him as the cold winds of Jotunheim blew across his face. Beside him, Ella had removed the spell she had cast to not allow the Jotnar feel as hot as the Vanir temperature would otherwise make them feel while also casting one on herself to allow her deal with the Jotunn climate. Part of her was happy to be back also. With everything she and Loki had learnt of one another from their time off realm, she felt there was so much more could be achieved now they were back on Jotunheim. They all walked to the palace with purpose, Loki keeping in stride with Ella, understanding that her shorter legs made things difficult for her, though she never stated anything regarding it.

They made their way to the palace and to their rooms. Ella’s room was the first one so with an arrangement to meet for dinner, she bade farewell and went into her rooms. Loki walked to his own, not making any mention of the peculiar feeling he had as he did so.

He had barely placed his hand on the door when he noted a shadow to his side. “If you still have the energy to come see me on my return, you have not spent the last week well.” He jested as he turned to smile at his older brother. When Býleistr did not return his smile, he frowned. “What?”

“I need to speak with you Loki, in private.”

Seeing his brother look at him so coyly caused Loki to become even more concerned. “Father?”

“Father is fine.” The cold tone which Býleistr used was easily noted. “He and I had an argument this morning. With the manner in which he tore into me would suggest his health is fine.”

Loki sighed and folded his arms. “What did you do this time? Honestly, you are supposed to be the oldest of us yet you are so often the least mature.”

Býleistr glared at his brother for a moment before he thought about what he had to say again. “You know I love you Brother, don’t you?”

“Leist, cease dancing around whatever it is and just tell me.”

“My mate, my new one.”

“Yes, what of her? I have to say, I am a little hurt you did not introduce her to us before now.” His eyes widened slightly. “She is not some poor young creature barely old enough to even have a heat, is she? Please don’t tell me she is barely ceased being a child, ‘Leist, that is terrible. I cannot stand by you for that.”

“No, she is legal, I swear.”

“Then what, you stole her for another?”

“No, not exactly.”

“In other words, yes.” Loki shook his head. “Only you could get into these sorts of positions, Brother. Who was the man she was supposed to mate with?”

“You.” Býleistr could not look at Loki.

“Me?” Loki scoffed for a moment before he realised what his brother was saying. “You mean....?” He rushed passed his brother to his brother’s rooms, his head shaking at what he was thinking. He entered them to see alma, Býleistr’s first mate there, and beside her, not the least bit concerned, was Angrboða.

Býleistr rushed in after his brother. “Loki, I am sorry, Brother, I know it is an unwritten rule, but…”

“There is no ‘But’ for this. This is a betrayal of the highest order.”

“You decided…”

“To tend to the realm over my own happiness, that is what I decided, and this is how my own kin sees to thank my sacrifices for Jotunheim? Swoop in and betray me, like this.” He shook his head. “You are no brother to me, not after this.” His pain blatant as he looked Býleistr in the eye, his agony clear to see as his heart shattered like fragile ice in his chest. Turning to face Angrboða again, she seemed to note his pain too. “You really are the Bringer of Grief.” With that, he turned and left the room.

#loki #other #Submitted fic #submission #chapter 26 #pride and prejudice #wolfpawn

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m2mtl · 5 years

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(ENG Translation) Fake Cinderella - Chapter 9

Chapter 9 raw (click for the link)

t/n: Heya. Here’s my second release, I’ll try to translate as much as I can while I’m still not that busy. Again, if you find any inaccurate translations (since I usually just make sense of the literal translation by google or systran then rephrase it in a better way), typos or other errors, kindly do point it out. Thanks~

Also, another chapter of the manga was recently released, and I was just wondering if you wanted to retain my translation of the names or the manga’s since it differs slightly (i.e., Alterie = Arthirea, Nadir = Nigel). And that’s it, enjoy~

(7/28/19) t/n: Rephrased some things to make it clearer.

Previous chapter - TOC

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9. The Duke of Elsevert

"Her Royal Highness,"

Upon the call, my mind returns to reality.

In front of me was Count Stasen. This elder knight, who was a strong-bodied warrior, was a man of a few words.

Still, there is a feeling of security that is somewhat strange but reliable. It's really puzzling that this person was also a scholar with the title "Vera."

Thin golden hair, which is believed to be of those from the north... Many people in the north have silver or light gold hair. The color of their eyes are mostly light blue - the count's is also light blue.

(The stranger thing [t/n: pun not intended] is that such a person is the leader of my knight escorts)

"Your Royal Highness, it is the schedule for your return to the royal capital."

On his knees, he handed it over with both hands.

I received it.

"Thank you. I will be in your care."

His eyes widened and he looked somewhat surprised; he stared but immediately went out. Because it was sudden, everyone is busy preparing for our return.

After waking up, I usually only interacted with the maids, but after the incident I began to look closely at the knight escorts. It seems a person has been on the escort mission so as not to be very noticeable until now, but after the "falling incident" and the "attempted poisoning," it seems he can no longer stay that way.

(Don't run away)

That person did not run back to the Imperial Palace, which seems to be safer than here.

The killing intent directed at me... I was clearly aware of it.

So far, I have not completely acknowledged the murderous intent. Although I was told that I was being targeted, it didn't feel real.

However, now it's different.

(My enemy)

An enemy who is aiming for my life.

The fact that you are aiming for my life, it may not yet be known for sure.

But now, I am clearly aware that I am in danger everyday.

I used to go to work, then from work to my home; sometimes I went to hang out or rant to my friends. It was a routine far away from worrying about dangers to my life.

(Retaliation)

I am not a saint.

I’m not a cutesy character that starts to cry when I get tired.

When you hit my right cheek, I would hit back. I know it's unwise, but I'm the type to fight back.

Being alive, that will be my best revenge.

But that alone is not enough.

Because, Ellelucia is no longer here.

(It does not matter if this is misplaced anger. It's fine even if it's an outburst of anger.)

I will do it if I can do it.

I remembered the terrorist attack that happened in the United States. The Great Powers fell into the mud. A vicious cycle in which retaliation calls for revenge... a toxic cycle.

But I can't keep doing nothing anymore.

(But I am still weak ... and these hands are still too small...)

That's why, I cannot pass down judgement with my own hands. To do the same things they do... I cannot kill people with these hands.

I think it is impossible for anyone who has lived in the ordinary 21st Century Japan to carry it out, no matter how much you hate that person, no matter how much you want to kill.

What I can do... that is...

(To find the real mastermind)

He isn't the soup cook who was regarded as the perpetrator.

There was another criminal who did it... it wasn't that cook.

The ones who carried out the orders, of course, would also be guilty.

But, the person who ordered to kill me.

That person is the real culprit.

(Put the mastermind in court)

That was what I thought of as revenge.

I can only do my best indirectly.

That's how I'll move to my goal.

(For now, I'll just gather information)

I can't collect information directly by myself, and it's a shame I have no memory of the falling incident.

Alterie may have seen the culprit.

If I had remembered, I might have solved the problem at once along with this case.

I wish I could go around hearing from all kinds of people like in detective stories, but if I do so, I'll stand out and I can't let the information spread to outsiders.

In fact, I suspected at first that the falling incident might have been Alterie's suicide.

(Because...)

It's because she felt somewhat empty deep inside her heart, which is probably why she was called Puppet Princess.

Even if you didn't exactly jump off yourself, you might have been aware that it was a dangerous place but still went anyway... and then perhaps you may have tried to do it.

The balcony above the lake is windy. It's even more so at night. Alterie is so light that easy to lose balance there... a not-so unintentional accident.

(But now I can say that was not the case)

As "Alterie" gradually comes back to me, it seemed to me that wasn't what happened.

Still, it doesn't mean I understand everything that is in Alterie's heart. I only have this vague feeling.

But if I give it some thought, I can understand even if it's just a bit.

The knowledge I have received from Alterie is what she studied and learned diligently.

(For what purpose...?)

I think it is a proof of her efforts to be worthy of being the crown princess.

If so, such a child would probably not go to a dangerous place by herself.

Because she was well aware of how important her position is to the kingdom.

Now it's clear that the fall was not an accident.

(That's why... I won't run away)

I won't run away and hide somewhere safe.

(It's just that, because this place is not my territory, I'm going back home)

Even though the enemy knows me, I do not know neither the shadow nor shape of the enemy.

So at least, I want a home advantage.

Even so, it's an overwhelming disadvantage.

(But I decided not to run away)

It's alright. I'm not going to jump into danger.

I will not waste the efforts of Alterie up until now.

I am the crown princess.

(I will just pay them back what I owe)

Self defense is essential.

Even if the defense is a little excessive, it will be within acceptable limits. Probably.

The next day, after finishing all the arrangements, I received that the usual morning greetings from the duke.

At the side, maids aside from Lilia were busy carrying the luggage to the carriage. All the knight escorts were also ready, except for the two at the back.

"There was a danger of poisoning. Normal escorts are not enough. We are returning on such a short notice... contact the Imperial Palace and receive instructions from the Crown Prince."

Duke Elsevert fiercely objected when I told him that I was going back to the palace.

I still have a lot to explain as to why I’m returning to the palace.

Well, I understand how he feels. If I return as is without explaining, it would create a big fuss.

"I'm going home."

Still, I clearly told him once more.

The duke was shocked as he stared at me.

It's probably because it's the first time Alterie expressed her intentions like this.

Perhaps, he hasn't heard her speak up before.

"I am going back to the Palace."

I repeated while looking straight into the duke's blue eyes.

His eyes looked blue even with the light.

(Oh...)

The color of my eyes, I knew I inherited it from this person.

"... Do you doubt Elsevert?"

The duke asked, as if squeezing out his voice.

His eyes were turned away... For the first time, I thought that I was truly facing him.

I felt the weight with which he said those words.

He seemed exhausted.

I believe he was a person who is very concerned about appearances.

His short beard is well kept and his platinum blond hair is shiny. There are no wrinkles in his thin and fashionable long coat.

Although he seemed younger than his age of forty-four, his eyes looked empty. He's like an old man in despair and resignation.

I answered, hoping that my words will reach him.

"No."

It was not clear if it was the duke, the ladies-in-waiting or the knight escort who inhaled sharply. Or maybe it was all of them.

But either way, I saw that they properly understood my answer.

I dare not say why.

I do not want to do or say anything unnecessary while I still do not know where the true criminal's eyes are hidden.

So far, my only advantage while I am far away from home is while Alterie is a 12-year-old girl, she has the experiences from my 33 years of living.

At best, you're likely to think that I am still a twelve-year-old naive princess.

"Understood... at the very least, may you permit my son to escort you?"

The duke did not refer to anyone in particular. It's just that he said it in a beseeching tone.

I tilt my head. The duke's son will be an escort?

"The sons of the duke, Lord Dior and Lord Rael, are both part of the Eastern Division."

Lilia explained.

The national army of Dardinia is roughly divided into six divisions. There's the central division and the divisions in the east, west, north and south; then there's the Imperial Guards. (t/n: Just guessed this since it literally translated to "Konoe Division") On the other hand, each aristocrat had a private army. It was not strange that Duke's sons were working in the Eastern Division, as Elsevert was chief for the east.

The Dardinian nobility are just ordinary people except for the legitimate heirs. The second son and so on only have the opportunity of becoming either a priest or a military man.

"I'll allow it."

I nodded and stood up.

The duke bowed with a somewhat relieved expression.

To be honest, no matter how many times we meet, I never recognize him to be my father. Still, I somehow felt that I was connected to this person.

"Thank you for helping me."

"It's no problem. I wish you good health as you go on your way, Your Royal Highness."

The duke says, and as he stands before me, he prays for my safety during the travel.

I nodded in response to that.

It wasn't as if everything was resolved in that instance.

I can never forget how my heart aches when I think of my mother.

However, I felt like I was getting there.

And perhaps, the duke as well.

When it was time to leave, the duke came to send us off.

The duke's figure remained on the drawbridge of the castle until my carriage was out of sight.

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#fakecinderella #fakecinderellachapter9 #englishtranslation #translation

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