Chapter 60

"Lady Brodie, it might be fine."

The Silvanus maids gathered in Brodie's quarters, sighing in sympathy.

"Is your knee a bit better?"

"Prince Tarkan really went too far."

Despite their words, the maids' expressions were subtle.

Brodie bit her lip tightly.

To be rejected so harshly by a man—she had never even imagined it in her dreams.

'What am I, Brodie, that I'm worse than that half-breed who doesn't even get treated like a princess!'

Brodie touched her face with her trembling hands.

'This scar!'

Her fingertips brushed against the rough skin, and she wanted to tear it off with her nails.

"It's because of this. That's why, that's why Prince Tarkan—"

"Lady Brodie..."

"Why me..."

Brodie gasped and sobbed.

"It's okay, my lady. We can call a priest later..."

"Even a priest can't do anything about such an old scar!"

Brodie screamed.

"From the beginning, from the beginning, this scar should have been on that rag!"

Brodie ground her teeth and muttered, her eyes filled with venom.

Rosalin nodded in agreement.

"You're right. The one who should have been scalded with boiling water and suffered burns was the princess."

For that purpose, Brodie had approached the princess with boiling water.

"If she had met Prince Tarkan with a scarred face, everything would have been completely different."

"Prince Tarkan wouldn't have been dazzled by her appearance and would have immediately seen how worthless that rag is."

The maids comforted Brodie.

The more they did, the more distorted Brodie's face became.

Yes, everything should have been hers, not that rag of a princess.

The strong and handsome Tarkan, the dazzling jewels and the exquisite silk that Aristine wore—everything, everything!

'If things had gone as they should have...'

Bang!

Brodie pounded the bed and wept.

"Lady..."

Rosalin stroked Brodie's back with a sympathetic look.

"Maybe you need some time alone to calm down. We'll all leave you alone."

At Rosalin's words, the other maids nodded and retreated from the bed.

Rosalin also stood up and sighed deeply.

"Ah, at this moment, the princess is probably walking arm in arm with Prince Tarkan, unscarred. I heard she just went to the training ground with a cake. How can she be so good at flattering him?"

She shook her head as if talking to herself.

"Moreover, she's apparently making a sword to flirt with the warriors, running around everywhere."

Brodie's eyes widened as she turned to Rosalin.

"Blade? She has no manners at all, not even a bit like a princess. She's so barbaric."

"Did you say a sword?"

At Brodie's question, Rosalin turned to her with a "Oops" expression.

"Ah, yes. I heard she made a sword so sharp that even a slight scratch would cause a wound."

Rosalin gave a meaningful look at Brodie's face and sighed deeply.

"How sad. This scar should have been on the princess."

Brodie turned her head sharply, as if to hide her scar.

Without makeup, the scar would be clearly visible.

"No, the one who left such a scar on Lady Brodie deserves an even more hideous scar."

At Rosalin's words, Brodie raised her head.

Brodie's eyes glinted with a sinister light, dark and intense.

"Did you say the princess is making a sword?"

"Ah, yes. She might have already finished it. I heard she keeps it in her room."

"Is that so..."

Brodie muttered blankly.

"Is that so..."

As she bit her nails and muttered, Rosalin turned to leave.

A deep smile was on her face as she slowly walked out of the room.

* * *

"Lady Rosalin, what happened? Why are you so late..."

"No, Lady Brodie asked me something. It wasn't important."

Before the other maids could ask what it was, Rosalin quickly changed the subject.

"Anyway, I'm worried about Lady Brodie."

"None of us could have imagined Prince Tarkan would react so harshly..."

"Indeed, a barbarian is..."

As they spoke, the maids glanced at each other.

Rosalin smiled slyly.

"Let's be honest."

She leaned against the sparsely populated outer wall and looked around at the other maids.

"Barbaric, lacking in chivalry, rude. Despite saying that, don't we all think Prince Tarkan is amazing?"

The maids swallowed hard at her words.

A strong male.

Tarkan overshadowed every man they had ever seen.

Face, body, ability, wealth, status, charisma.

There's nothing imperfect about him.

Even if they cursed him for being such a man, they couldn't help but want him.

That's why they all brought the snacks together, even if it was just one.

"Honestly, would a man like Prince Tarkan fall for Lady Brodie's seduction? I would have been disappointed if he had."

At Rosalin's words, a maid who had been glancing at the others hesitantly spoke up.

"That's... true. As you know, Lady Brodie's face is a bit... damaged, right?"

"Of course, Prince Tarkan would naturally be put off if someone like that approached him."

Rosalin nodded in agreement and continued.

"Prince Tarkan is the pride of this country. How high his standards must be? He's not the kind of man who would easily allow just anyone to be close to him."

Just being chosen by him would make one a special person.

This made the maids' hearts flutter even more.

"Lady Celian, Lady Melodia. Aren't we different from Lady Brodie?"

Rosalin gave a subtle look and whispered to them.

We are different from the rejected Brodie. We are special.

It was a sweet lie.

The maids, who had been hesitating, began to smile.

"You're right. Even though it's hard to say, we are on a different level."

"Brave, to approach him so boldly with that face."

Rosalin smiled cunningly.

"We must act like noble ladies."

"With a grace that is on a different level from that rag."

"What does Prince Tarkan like?"

Just as the maids were about to discuss how to actively seduce Tarkan,

"Oh my, there's someone here..."

At the voice from behind, the maids turned around in surprise.

A tall, slender, and alluring figure, with navy blue hair fluttering in the wind.

They knew who it was, even though they had never met her in person.

After all, she was the woman who was always by Tarkan's side.

"Diona..."

Without thinking, they said her name, and the woman smiled with sea-blue eyes.

"Yes, please call me Diona, maids of Silvanus."

Chapter 19. History at Night

"Truly revolutionary! Why didn't I think of this earlier...!"

Aristine laughed, "Haha, I'm glad you find it easy to use. But can you focus on the surgery? The blood is flowing."

"It's fine at this level!"

The warrior being treated flexed his muscles proudly.

'No, I'm the one who's not fine.'

Aristine smiled faintly.

"Phew... Do you know how much I've struggled with the frequent injuries of the warriors?"

The doctor looked wistfully into the distance.

"No, but first, focus on the surgery..."

"It's fine!"

The warrior flexed his muscles again.

Each time he tensed his muscles, blood gushed from the wound on his stomach.

"No matter how many times I treat them, the patients keep coming, and they don't listen to me at all."

"Let's talk about it later. The blood is flowing. This person might die, not from the injury but because of you."

"Prince, to care so much for a mere commoner warrior like me!"

Seeing the warrior's eyes well up with tears, Aristine facepalmed.

'This is wrong.'

Meanwhile, the doctor's rambling continued.

"Moreover, the tools are so poor. My delicate wrists have been overworked. Poor me."

The doctor sniffled and shook his right hand holding the scalpel.

Honestly, to Aristine, his wrists looked as well-trained as those of a seasoned warrior.

"With this, I can work more precisely with less effort..."

"Okay, I get it. Just focus on the treatment... No, do as you please."

Aristine gave up on persuading him.

Well, if the patient says he's fine, it's not her problem if he dies.

Feeling somewhat exhausted, Aristine sat down in a chair.

Fortunately, the surgery was completed without incident.

After the observation, Tarkan was waiting for her.

"How was it?"

Shaking her head at Tarkan's question, Aristine replied,

"The scalels are, of course, perfect. But is the doctor really okay?"

"He's the best surgeon."

"Best mortician, you mean?"

Tarkan chuckled at Aristine's words.

"He's a bit careless with minor injuries."

"One more careless move and he might kill someone."

"But he stops just short of that."

"Hmm?"

Aristine looked at Tarkan with a curious expression.

"Why?"

"No, I just thought you trusted him quite a bit."

Tarkan's lips twisted.

"I trust his skills. He's untrustworthy in every other way."

"But trusting a doctor's skills means entrusting your life to him."

Aristine thought of the many scars on Tarkan's body.

"Especially, having a doctor whose skills you can trust is truly remarkable. I'm glad such a person is by your side."

Tarkan looked at Aristine.

A gentle smile appeared on her face, as if the early summer sun was lingering on it.

"...Lucky, huh."

"Then, I'll trust my husband's words and feel safe in his hands."

Aristine smiled.

When Aristine said she wanted to test it, Tarkan suggested using the scalpel in the ward.

Although Tarkan wasn't leading a large-scale battle, the warriors were still patrolling the plains and repelling the demons they encountered.

There were more than enough patients who needed surgery.

"Listening to the feedback is good, but if we want to use it as a sales strategy, we need to check these as well."

At Aristine's gesture, a palace attendant handed over a document.

It was a checklist she had created based on the knowledge from her previous life, seen through the Emperor's Eye.

As Tarkan looked through the document, he raised his head and looked at Aristine.

"Why?"

"No."

Shaking her head, she said it was nothing, but Tarkan's eyes sparkled.

'Even though she was kept in confinement without any education, she can prepare such systematic materials?'

Moreover, Aristine didn't seem particularly proud or pleased with herself.

It seemed to her that this was just a common-sense level of material.

'The Emperor of Silvanus couldn't recognize a diamond in the rough.'

To not choose someone with such qualities as a successor and instead confine her, and then send her to a foreign country.

"Then, should I review it?"

The doctor, who had come out of the operating room, approached with a bright smile.

"My name is Umiru. This cursed, oh, sorry. I'm the head of this prestigious ward, responsible for treating the many injuries of the great warriors."

Although he apologized, Umiru didn't seem to care about Tarkan's reaction.

Tarkan also didn't seem to care.

"Yes, I'll ask you to write detailed reports, including from the other doctors."

"Of course, at the request of our Prince, we will all do our best."

Umiru said this and extended his hand to Aristine.

When Aristine placed her hand in his, Umiru gently held it with both hands and caressed it as if savoring it.

"Such soft hands."

Umiru's eyes, looking at Aristine, glowed with a burning red light.

'What a strangely beautiful person.'

Despite his sharp features, the long eyelashes made him seem more beautiful.

Umiru kissed the back of Aristine's hand.

"Please trust me, Prince."

Tarkan frowned and roughly pulled Umiru away from Aristine.

"She's a woman."

"Ah, really?"

At Tarkan's words, Aristine's eyes widened as she looked at Umiru.

Maybe it was because of the racial difference.

She had thought Umiru was a man because of his tall stature, broad shoulders, and slightly muscular build.

"But what does it matter?"

Aristine asked Tarkan.

Whether Umiru was a woman or a man, it didn't matter for work.

What Aristine needed was not a man or a woman, but someone who could do the job well.

"Enough of being a husband, I need to make money."