Chapter 1

"Why!! Why does His Majesty only favor that woman!!"

With a shrill cry, there came a loud, dramatic sound of something breaking.

A single blink.

What was once a luxurious room now resembled a scene after a storm, with broken objects scattered everywhere.

Blinking again, I lowered my gaze to my own hands.

Small, child-like, soft white hands. I repeatedly clenched and opened them, and the reflection in the shattered mirror showed a young child with silver hair and silver eyes.

(Yes, finally, my thoughts and body are connected. But are these memories mine? Is this reincarnation? Or possession?)

The woman rampaging in this room is my mother.

No one dares to intervene or scold her amidst this chaos because she is the concubine of this country, and getting caught in her tantrums could be dangerous.

Still, I think someone should stop her, but her hysterical destruction is a daily occurrence, and this room is specifically designed for it. The items that get broken are failed works by new artists or craftsmen, which they intended to destroy, but were bought and placed here.

It’s a kind of venting. Her hysteria doesn’t last long; after breaking a few things, she usually ends up sobbing.

However, she might get hurt during her tantrums, and the cleanup is a hassle.

Suppressing a sigh, I called out to my mother, who was crying and rampaging.

"Mother."

At my call, Mother—Her Highness—stopped abruptly and slowly turned to face me.

"Mother."

I extended my hands, and she released the chair she was swinging, running over to embrace me.

"Albert! My dear Albert!!"

Then she sobbed.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive this inadequate mother."

She’s such an emotionally volatile person.

But it can’t be helped. My father, the lord, is the root of all evil.

I stroked Mother’s golden hair to comfort her, and I instructed the servants and maids at the room’s entrance to bring a damp handkerchief and the butler or steward to clean up the room.

"Mother, being in this dim room can be depressing. Let’s move to a brighter room."

"Yes. Yes, Albert. You’re right. I want to drink some fragrant tea."

I led Mother, who had calmed down a bit, to a room with a terrace.

My name is Ryugen Albert A-Igel Faberwesen Laave.

Ryugen is my first name, Albert is my middle name, A-Igel means the first son of the royal family, Faberwesen is the current dynasty, and Laave is the name of the kingdom. I am six years old.

I am the first prince of the Laave Kingdom, but my mother is not the queen but a concubine.

Mother is from a marquess family and was engaged to the current king when he was a prince.

Despite being engaged, she became a concubine instead of the queen because the king, my father, fell in love at first sight with a duchess from a neighboring country during his studies there. The marriage was beneficial for both countries diplomatically.

As a result, the queen from the neighboring country had difficulty conceiving, so the king brought in his former fiancée as a concubine, and I was born.

Moreover, after Mother became pregnant with me, it was discovered that the queen was also pregnant.

Incidentally, she gave birth to a boy.

Up to this point, the timing of these events is a common story in any country, but the problem lies in the poor treatment of the king’s concubine and her child.

I understand that the queen, whom the king fell in love with at first sight, is important. Her child is naturally more beloved.

But how can you neglect the child who was born first and his mother?

Especially when that mother is your former fiancée, who even underwent queen training and worked hard for you?

No, really. My father is a scumbag, even though he’s the king.

The engagement between Mother and the king was a political arrangement, but Mother must have been devoted to her fiancé.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have become a concubine after the engagement was broken.

From Mother’s family’s perspective, being engaged to the royal family and then having the engagement annulled due to the king’s (then prince’s) convenience, and finally being asked to become a concubine because the queen couldn’t have children, is unacceptable.

By the way, Mother’s family, the marquess family, had only one child, Mother. They should have made her the marquess or taken a son-in-law to manage the family.

But Mother was so infatuated with the king that she happily accepted both the engagement and the role of concubine.

And this is the current situation.

Wait, doesn’t this sound like a familiar template from some story?

A prince with a neglected concubine mother, who feels unloved and becomes a spoiled brat, ends up breaking his engagement to a perfect noble lady chosen by the king at his graduation ceremony, only to have his younger brother, a model prince, take the lady for himself.

No way, that’s not happening.

But my surroundings are somehow unsettling.

The main factor is the king.

After all, he’s focusing on the education of the second prince, born to the queen, instead of me, the first prince.

I have the higher right to the throne, but the king wants his child from a romantic marriage to succeed him, right? After all, it’s a love story.

A child from such a relationship is naturally more beloved. He would want that child to become king, wouldn’t he?

If not, it’s impossible to neglect me, the first in line to the throne, and Mother.

If the king wants the second prince to become king, then I’m no longer needed, right?

Moreover, now that it’s clear the queen can have children, why not have a spare with her?

With a clear mind, I should start by winning over Mother.

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