The rumors about Prince Reiner that circulated throughout the Empire were also well known to Luiche.
He was a prince who could not even read letters.
He was a prince who had fallen out of the Emperor’s favor.
He was a prince whose body was not even sound enough to hold a single sword.
He was a weak prince who would not have seemed strange if he died at any time.
However, only the people of the Second Prince’s Palace never looked down on him. They truly cherished and followed Prince Reiner. That was why they freely poured out affectionate complaints.
They did so because they knew he would accept them with a smile. They felt that close to him. They trusted in his innately kind nature.
Thinking about it, it was a bit strange.
How had this happened?
He had once been a little prince who broke everything with each clumsy step, a child who needed constant care. How had such a weak and pitiful young prince, who could not even make a single hand gesture properly, so firmly captured the hearts of his subordinates?
From the perspective of Luiche, who had cared for Reiner like her own son ever since he was a newborn nursing baby, it was impossible to understand.
Luiche recalled the old days for a moment. The days when Prince Reiner toddled around and spoke his first words, when he was about five or six and began to show his personality, and around six or seven when the Emperor grew displeased with him and began to beat him. Luiche, who had a good sense and memory, remembered everything vividly, as if it had happened yesterday.
Back then, Luiche had only pitied this child. It was ridiculous for a mere Viscountess to dare feel pity for the Emperor’s son, but she truly did.
He was the son of an Emperor who would be recorded as the worst tyrant in the Empire’s history.
He was the half-brother of the equally violent First Prince Niklas.
This tiny child had been born into an environment so unique that it was hard to endure. His origins were far from ordinary, so it seemed unlikely he would grow into a normal adult and seize happiness. That was what Luiche believed at the time.
As time passed, Luiche’s prediction came true like a prophet’s foretelling.
Even living with the same wild temperament would have been hard enough, yet for some reason, Prince Reiner was the opposite of his father and brother. Instead of recklessness, he possessed sensitivity; instead of boldness, he showed kindness; instead of cruelty, he showed compassion.
For the Emperor and the First Prince, it was only natural to see that kind of temperament as nothing but weak. Instead of receiving the affection that a lovely child deserved, he received hatred, verbal abuse, and beatings.
By that time, even Luiche felt sorry for Prince Reiner. However, as always, pity had no power. When her pity faded, a sudden resentment toward an innocent child took hold in one corner of her heart.
It was not like that from the beginning. Although he had certainly displeased the Emperor, Reiner was a prince. He was also the only son of the stunning second Empress, who was deeply cherished by the Emperor. The Empress treasured her only son, who resembled her so much.
Who could have known that love was so shallow? After the Third Prince was born and she again became pregnant with a princess, the Empress suddenly began to treat Reiner like a nuisance. Perhaps it was because she feared that the Emperor’s waning favor would vanish completely over time.
Whenever Prince Reiner did something that did not please the Emperor, the Empress kicked him first. Sometimes, she stepped forward and raised her hand even when the Emperor sat still.
On such days, the Empress beamed at the Emperor with her bloodied young son behind her. That smile was so bright, it actually looked uneasy. The Empress was communicating with her entire body.
‘Look at this, I understood His Majesty’s heart so well. If you dislike him, I can discard even a useless son.’
When Luiche first saw that sight, only three words flashed through her mind.
‘It was doomed.’
If she elaborated on those three words, it went like this:
‘I thought I got lucky by becoming a prince’s nanny, but alas. I grabbed a rotten rope. My plan to bring my husband and children into successful high society has gone to waste.’
Of course, Luiche was not the only one who felt that ‘doomed’ atmosphere. The people of the Castner Viscount family, who had hoped Luiche would be their connection to the Imperial House, occasionally chastised her whenever they encountered her at the palace, as though it were all Luiche’s fault.
It had been painful. Luiche knew that her family’s accusations—saying everything was her fault—were not just. Yet she could not defend herself. Nobody would listen. Still, staying silent and patient left her frustrated. So she tried to direct the arrows of blame elsewhere. She found a target she could resent wholeheartedly.
It was the young Prince Reiner, who always smiled brightly at her.
He was a child who rolled his eyes anxiously, longing for the love he had never received from his mother, with no one on his side.
From then on, Luiche’s heart had remained in torment.
She was never at peace, feeling both pity and resentment toward that sweet child, and feeling self-loathing for resenting an innocent boy.
When the frail prince whined continuously, it was actually easier. It was fine to dislike him for being so irritating.
When he acted stubbornly like a prince raised in an affluent environment without lacking anything, it was simple as well. It was easy to hate such a naughty child.
Even when he behaved like a child who had never received love or attention and constantly acted spoiled, she felt relieved. It gave her a reason to dislike him, and she thought she could throw away her guilt.
Oh, no.
That was not it?
Luiche stopped thinking for a moment and blinked.
Hmm, why had her thoughts gone in that direction?
That child was not actually a spoiled brat.
Rather, he was so unlike a child that it had been creepy.
Yes, she was sure she had thought that. That he was not childlike and was sly.
No, that was not it either. That could not be right.
Our Prince was not that kind of person.
Luiche shook her head from side to side, shaking off the pointless thoughts in her mind.
She thought to herself that she really was getting old, confusing the Prince with someone else she had seen somewhere.
A small laugh escaped her. She realized she had aged. She had given birth to eleven children, and then she had also nursed the Prince—who was not even her own child—so it was certain that her once-proud memory had faded.
Still, how could she have such odd thoughts about Prince Reiner?
Although there had been times when he was neglected in the palace, he was more lovable and kind than anyone.
Luiche suddenly felt a bit ashamed. So she called out to the two attendants who had begun working with shy smiles in front of her.
“Don’t just chat among yourselves, go on and continue what you were talking about. It’s not like you can’t say it with me here, is it? So what did Prince Reiner do?”
Once they spread out the rugs, they started talking again, as though they had been waiting for the chance.
“In truth, there’s only good news when it comes to His Highness. He was actually quite dignified. At that age, and with such high status, there’s no one else who would take such thoughtful care of us. That’s why it wasn’t tiring at all, even when we moved to the northern tower.”
“That’s right. To be honest, there’s no one else like him. We really have no serious complaints about His Highness.”
“Oh, but I do have one. Why did he have such a small appetite? He only ever ate nutritious fruit. It made me worry.”
Luiche felt good again after hearing the girl’s affectionate grumbling, almost like a confession of love.
But the attendant next to her started to stir things up once more.
“However, speaking of our Prince, didn’t he really lack a sense of timing? Consideration and quick-wittedness must be different concepts.”
It was the bright-eyed girl who had earlier hypothesized that Prince Reiner had known from the start that the Winzerton household would come to the annex, prompting him to move to the northern tower. Luiche cut in.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, it’s just that these days, every time he goes to the annex, he takes loads of grapes, peaches, and apricots, right? Didn’t you find that a bit odd, Lady Luiche?”
The girl beside her nodded and sighed theatrically, crying out, ‘Those green grapes!’ Since Luiche had not been going in and out of the annex with them, it was a story she had not heard, so she tilted her head and asked again.
“What’s strange about that?”
“Well, it seems like His Majesty wants those from Winzerton to starve themselves to death, so he hasn’t provided any food or supplies to the annex. But can fruit alone fill their stomachs? If it were me, I’d bring them meat or bread. Or potatoes—anything that would fill them up. But our Prince mindlessly offers only the fruit he likes.”
The girl next to her suddenly remembered something and spoke up.
“Oh, that reminds me. I heard recently that Princess Edwina from Winzerton loved green grapes.”
“The Princess from Winzerton likes green grapes? How do you know that?”
“I don’t know where the rumor came from. Maybe someone overheard the Winzerton attendants saying it and passed it on to the Prince, or maybe the Prince asked directly what she liked best. Anyway, I heard His Highness said this: Since Edwina likes green grapes the most, give her even his share.”
“In that case, it must mean…”
The bright-eyed attendant once again had her eyes shining. Luiche, not catching on, asked again.
“What rash guess are you trying to make now?”
“Oh, come on, isn’t it obvious? If the person you love says they like green grapes, you keep bringing nothing but green grapes, day in and day out.”
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