[The Hated Arjen.]
The note left by his mother before her death.
The slanted handwriting, scribbled so hastily it was barely legible, seemed infused with thick irritation and anger.
The boy’s eyes darkened as he stared at it.
‘……If she hated me this much, why leave a keepsake?’
Not only that—she’d hidden it in the palace’s servant quarters with instructions to search carefully.
Arjen’s birth mother had been a low-ranking palace maid who became the emperor’s mistress due to her extraordinary beauty.
The emperor had loved her beauty.
But not her blood.
Realizing this, she hid her pregnancy, fled the palace, and gave birth in a capital slum. After sending the child to the emperor, she died.
Arjen was born as a stain his father wanted erased and a tool for his mother’s revenge.
Initially, the emperor tried to reject him.
But……
"He appears to carry the densest trace of dragon’s blood, though it’s greatly weakened now. With proper upbringing, he could become exceptionally powerful……"
The priest’s words flipped Arjen’s fate entirely.
The emperor falsified records to declare Arjen the empress’s second son.
The compassionate empress initially pitied the boy and accepted him.
The problem was the vacant crown prince position.
"Empress. When do you intend to appoint the first prince, Robert, as crown prince? Hmm… It seems premature. Arjen is still young, after all."
"……Your Majesty, this contradicts our agreement—"
"Arjen shows remarkable cleverness. I have high hopes for his future."
The empress acted the very next evening.
Arjen’s nursemaid was bribed to poison his tea. After surviving a brutal fever, he understood:
‘To survive, I must stay invisible.’
He had to pretend indifference toward his siblings’ positions.
‘So I’ll obediently eat the empress’s secretly delivered jelly……’
He buried his magic until it seemed nonexistent.
‘I won’t die here.’
Being alone didn’t scare him.
True terror was dying nameless and forgotten, like his mother.
Arjen refused such an end, fighting instinctively to survive.
‘I’m too young and weak to confront enemies directly.’
His best option was to wait silently for the right moment.
Perhaps someday, he’d learn to navigate this vast ocean alone and claim his rightful place.
Occasionally, the world’s immensity made his eyes sting, but he swallowed the tears.
‘Alone is fine. I’m accustomed to being hated.’
Loneliness held no fear.
He reaffirmed his vow:
‘No one needs to love me.’
[The Hated Arjen.]
Crinkle. The note crumpled in his fist.
This…… didn’t matter.
The first time he’d read it, his heart had plummeted. Now, repeated viewings dulled the pain.
‘Retrieving a hated mother’s keepsake… I can’t leave weaknesses in the palace.’
Not out of longing or hope—just necessity.
‘I’ll grow strong alone.’
He habitually smothered his emotions.
Sometimes his heart felt hollow, but emptiness felt lighter.
As he killed time regulating his thoughts, he peeked through the curtain—and tilted his head.
“……Ah.”
A shop’s pink flag caught his eye.
He’d tried to forget, but now remembered…
‘That child—unnaturally sharp for her age.’
Surely…
‘……Impossible?’
[Herb Seed Emporium]
Chirp!
I marched confidently into the general store near the toy shop, needing herb seeds for the summit.
But—
"You’re out of Mintmary seeds?!"
The shopkeeper sighed. "The storage warehouse burned down. All stock lost."
No! I’d assumed they’d be readily available!
"We can restock from another region, but it’ll take three weeks—they’re not popular."
"Three weeks?!" The summit would end by then!
Mintmary—the "20-day herb"—turned pink when harvest-ready in three weeks. Though fast-growing, I’d planned to magic-accelerate it to two.
‘No seeds, no progress.’ Seedlings wouldn’t work—I needed to germinate them myself.
"Other herbs are available," the shopkeeper offered.
"But Mintmary’s strong scent and beauty matter!" I’d intended to pot them after magical growth.
"Special reason for needing it?"
I pursed my lips. The truth?
‘I need spy plants—eyes and ears throughout the mansion.’
To monitor Wintervalt Ducal Residence’s happenings and guests’ schemes.
True, I could communicate with ancient trees and spirit mountain herbs steeped in magic. But my own magic-sprouted plants? Perfect informants!
(When I first realized vegetables could talk, I’d stopped eating for days. Papa Alec panicked as I withered away.)
‘But they taught me: nature cycles. Harvest gratefully, replant joyfully.’
Learned from Repi Village’s gardens.
‘Mintmary’s the easiest option…’
As I agonized, the shopkeeper brightened.
"House Florin’s gardening shop in Southton might have some—but it’s nobles-only."
She eyed my plain dress, clearly judging me commoner.
‘Hmm…’ I’d come here for convenience.
My status? Murky.
Alec Walt’s daughter = commoner.
Calek Wintervalt’s daughter = noble.
(Except the duke never acknowledged me.)
"Ugh. Still complicated…"
"Pardon?"
"Nothing! Goodbye!" I bolted out.
‘Easy solution exists!’
Nobles-only? I knew a human battering ram!
Outside stood a boulder-like figure—unmistakably Wintervalt.
"Grandpa!!”
