Quite a long winded explanation, but one that somehow managed to convey what I had wanted to say.
“Individual strengths... and weaknesses, you say? So are you claiming that even Jeord has something he isn’t good at? I’ve never heard of anything like it, from then till now.”
I suppose Alan had a point — Prince Jeord, who could seemingly do anything and everything without breaking a sweat, hardly seemed fazed by anything. He was fairly intelligent all around, and his skill at the sword was admirable... despite the fact that he spent much of his time visiting me at my manor. In fact, he had recently offered to help with the harvest, and was gathering crops at a much faster pace than I ever could.
Surely there was nothing he was bad at, or had difficulties with. Even I had thought the same way, until...
“Fufufufu. Well, Prince Alan, I suppose I should inform you that Prince Jeord does have a... weakness.”
“?!”
A bold smile lit up my face. After all, I wasn’t making it up. I had noticed it recently: the one thing that Jeord simply could not come to terms with.
More accurately, I would say it was a discovery of sorts. True to his image, I had originally thought of Jeord as a picture-book perfect prince through and through, with no faults or weaknesses.
However, as the days passed and Jeord continued helping me with my harvest (and being given a share), I could not help but notice it. Yes, much like the kind old lady in the neighborhood that most children knew, I had grown close to Jeord, and now I understood.
“Well... the thing that Prince Jeord absolutely cannot stand is...”
“Is...?” Alan continued staring at me, frozen in surprise and anticipation. On my face was a most malicious smile. Fitting, perhaps, of a villainess.
This had happened a few weeks ago. On that day, Jeord and Mary were visiting the manor, planning to take home some of the crops that I had cultivated.
Jeord, Mary, and Keith were kind enough to offer to help with the harvest — and that was when it appeared. It darted this way and that by my legs, and seemed headed for Mary. They could be most unpleasant — not wanting it to surprise her, I decided to catch it instead.
However... it promptly changed course, making a beeline for Jeord, who was watching warily nearby. For the very first time in my life, I saw the usually calm Jeord... cowed. Afraid. Disturbed, at the very least.
And then I knew — perhaps, just maybe... Jeord really did not like what he had just seen.
Recollecting the events with that malicious smile still on my face, I spotted Jeord himself — he had come searching for us, I suppose, on account of how long we were taking.
The perfect chance. Yes, this was the perfect chance to confirm my theory. Up until now, all we had were assumptions... Now was the time.
With those thoughts in mind, I reached into my pocket, grabbing onto the object that I had been carrying around with me, hidden, for the past few days. I pulled Alan behind some trees and shrubbery, and we hid as I waited for the perfect moment, observing Jeord the whole time. As Jeord approached our hiding place, I yanked it out of my pocket, tossing it right before his feet.
“Uwaargh?!” A strangled cry rose from Jeord’s throat at the sight of the sudden object. Gone was the calm and collected expression he usually had — in its place was surprise, confusion, hesitation.
“Ah, yes. There’s no mistaking it now!” I giggled, still hidden in the bushes.
“Hey, hold up... so what exactly was the thing that Jeord isn’t good with? What did you toss at him?” Alan asked, apparently not entirely convinced.
I decided to quickly remedy that, filling Alan in with the sordid details. “It was a SNAKE!”
“A snake?!”
“...Well, more accurately, it’s an imitation of one. I can’t exactly keep a real snake in my pocket now, can I?”
“...I don’t think most people put snakes of any kind in their pockets, anyway. Well? Why did you toss it at him then?”
“As I said, Prince Alan, I’m showing you what Prince Jeord has difficulties with...”
“Difficulties... you don’t mean?! Is it SNAKES?!”
“Yes indeed! It was but a suspicion at first, but looking at how he just reacted, I can now say so with certainty! Prince Jeord is afraid of snakes!” I declared, impossibly proud of what I had discovered and achieved.
Ah, truly, this is an amazing discovery. At long last, we have discovered the singular weakness of the picture-perfect prince.
On another note, the “snake” that I had thrown was a toy, handmade by yours truly with rolled and balled up paper — a tool I had made in my efforts to discover Jeord’s true weakness. Of course, it looked nothing like the real thing, but judging from Jeord’s reaction alone, it had quite the notable effect.
“Difficulty... with snakes. Snakes, huh? He does look cowed, I’ll say... but that wasn’t what I was talking about. But snakes. Ah, he REALLY does look intimidated by the thing...”
Alan, who had been muttering to himself all this time, seemed oblivious to the fact that I was doing a little victory dance next to him. I was exuberant! Elated! I had discovered Jeord’s one true weakness! With this, even if I were confronted by a Catastrophic Bad End, I would have one last trump card! I continued my celebratory dance, unaware of the fact that a deep, dark presence had slowly approached me from behind.
“Katarina... It would seem like you are in a most delightful mood. I wonder what has brought about this... joy?”
“?!”
Turning around, I came face to face with Jeord, who was standing with quite the radiant smile on his face. In his hand was none other than the toy snake I had just tossed at him moments ago.
Ah, yes. He’s smiling so brightly... but for some reason, this smile strikes fear into my heart. Slowly but surely, I became aware of a dark aura rising from his being.
“P-Prince Jeord...”
“To think that I was worried about you both, since you had gone off chasing after Alan and did not return... what then, may I ask, is this?” Jeord said, holding up the toy snake before my eyes.
“Ah... Um. That... That is... Uh...” I could only stare on helplessly, unable to say a single word in the face of Jeord’s tremendously intimidating aura.
This is bad! I’d thought to just test out my theory with a little prank, but Jeord is angry! No, he’s definitely, positively livid!
Actually, I’m sure that he didn’t see a thing... how is he so sure that I was the one who threw the toy snake, then?!
“Katarina... did you not turn nine just this very last month?”
“...Yes.”
“Nine years of age, Katarina Claes. The oldest daughter of a Duke, and my very own fiancée... one would think that she would hardly throw a toy like this, yes...?”
“...Ugh.”
Jeord’s already brilliant smile rapidly intensified.
This... Ah, this is true fear. What if... I were exiled from the kingdom for the crime of “Assault by Projectile Snake on His Highness the Third Crown Prince?”
Ah... How could this be? A Catastrophic Bad End? In a place like this?!
“Come to think of it, Katarina. I have not met with Madam Claes today. Perhaps you would know of her whereabouts?”
“...Ah, yes. Mother is having tea with Keith at the moment.” Caught unawares by the sudden change of subject, I bluntly and honestly answered Jeord’s question.
Jeord’s smile hardly faltered as he processed my response. “I see. Well then, Katarina. I really should greet her myself. After all, I have much to say to her — on certain peculiar incidents, such as your tree climbing competitions with Alan, and the fact that you threw this... toy. At me.”
“?!” What?! Is Jeord going to sell me out to Mother, simply because I sent a projectile toy snake in his general direction?! As expected of the black-hearted prince. Jeord, an embodiment of true primal fear.
As much as I begged and pleaded with Jeord, who was currently now marching straight
towards Mother, all he did was smile. A radiant, brilliant smile... with an obvious sprinkling of intense distaste. I have angered the black-hearted prince — the one person I should not have crossed!
Still wallowing in despair, I barely noticed a faint voice from behind me as I haplessly chased after the still-fuming Jeord. Turning around in curiosity, I saw that the source was none other than Alan, who had been forgotten all this time — and he was laughing. He was laughing his heart out, as if a great dam had burst within his being. To be more accurate, he was hugging his stomach and laughing in a positively explosive manner.
Damn you, Alan! How could you laugh at the misfortune of others?! Though I will concede that this incident is entirely my own doing...
For now, however, I could hardly bother with Alan — I needed to chase Jeord down! And so I ran. But it perhaps goes without saying that someone like me could not possibly contain Jeord’s rage...
And so it came to be that mother found out about my tree climbing contests with Alan, and my projectile snake tossed at Jeord. I sat through a great many insufferable hours of lectures that day.
In retrospect, this incident was more than just a disaster — I also made tremendous gains towards my goals. For starters, I had discovered Jeord’s one true weakness! In the event of a Catastrophic Bad End where he threatens to cut me down with his sword, all I had to do was give a projectile snake a good toss and escape while he was in a panicked state.
Truly a perfect, flawless plan. Ah, Katarina Claes. You are such a remarkable strategist. All I had to do was improve on my projectile snakes in the time between this day and my enrollment into the academy. I would make them more lifelike, more convincing — and then make sure to hide one in my pocket at all times!
With this, I had come up with a superbly ingenious method of avoiding a Catastrophic Bad End.
On another note, Alan no longer challenged me to any more contests or competitions. Even so, he continued visiting the Claes manor, and I was surprised to find him speaking normally with Jeord after some time had passed — though I didn’t even know when that started happening.
Hmm. Why did things change like this? While I was indeed curious, now was not the time for such considerations!
I had to prepare myself adequately for the days ahead. Katarina Claes must take bold steps towards the creation of a realistic projectile snake. All in the name of defeating Prince Jeord, should the need ever arise!
★★★★★★★★★
I was born as the fourth crown prince in line to the throne, receiving the name of Alan Stuart. My older twin brother, Jeord, is in turn the third crown prince.
My constitution was weak for the first few years of my life. In fact, I spent most of my time bedridden. As a result, I feel that my mother, the nursemaids, and my caretakers did a good job of spoiling me — at least, they raised me well.
As my body slowly gained strength, I eventually reached a point where I could seriously begin my physical and academic training. From then on, I worked hard to claw back the distance between my brother and I. My hard work earned the praise of all my tutors — and perhaps I got a little ahead of myself.
It was when I first attended academic tutoring sessions with my older twin brother, Jeord, that I noticed the differences between us. While I was racking my brains for an answer to a question, Jeord merely had a cool and calm expression on his face, soon solving the problem I was struggling with.
Even our lessons at swordplay went the same way. While I rushed at Jeord with all my might, he simply deflected my blows as he would a child’s, easily defeating me without breaking a sweat.
I was inferior to Jeord... and the distance between us was vast. I had finally realized that. Of course, both my physical and academic tutors told me that Jeord was “special,” and that it was somewhat natural for me to lose to him. They were comforting me, perhaps, but I soon refused to take any more lessons together with Jeord. I would then distance myself from my brother... I could not stand being compared to him, nor could I even endure being by his side.
One day, I overheard a certain conversation.
“Master Alan is always somewhat lacking in the things he does, no?”
“I don’t think he chose to be this way — didn’t he live the first few years of his life bedridden?”
“Ah, yes, and having that Jeord as a twin brother... the poor thing.”
“Maybe all the good bits were taken by Master Jeord when they were still in their mother’s womb!”
“Haha, so you’re saying he only got the dregs and leftovers?”
“Hey, now, that’s a little too much, isn’t it?”
The servants spoke with one another, laughing as they strolled through the royal castle’s hallways. It was like as if my field of vision slowly turned dark. I could not even muster up any rage at the transgressions that had just taken place before me...
The words pierced my heart. In particular, the statement of “Maybe all the good bits were taken by Master Jeord!” Like an immovable thorn it remained, resolutely resisting all my attempts to remove it. Once I had heard that statement, it was as if those same words were whispered by everyone around me — my tutors for swordplay, academic studies, and even the servants seemed to repeat this phrase endlessly.
It didn’t matter how hard or how much I tried, Jeord would simply tower over me with that cool and collected face of his. I don’t remember when exactly it started, but eventually I was filled with nothing but a sense of being inferior to my brother.
However, no matter my attempts to best him, and no matter how conscious of his achievements I was, Jeord was simply not interested. To be precise, I was not even reflected in his eyes. This made me suffer, and made me harbor a deep resentment towards him... And yet, the more distance I put between myself and my brother, the more I resented him, and the more it hurt inside.
It was in the Spring of my eighth birthday that I heard of Jeord’s engagement plans. The castle was filled with gossip of it. He had apparently decided to take the oldest daughter of a powerful duke as his future bride. A few months after that, my engagement plans were finalized as well — unlike Jeord, I had not asked for her hand in person.
Given that I was the last prince in line to the throne without a fiancée, all the other nobles jumped at the opportunity, parading their daughters before me. In the end, it was decided that I should be engaged to the youngest daughter of the Hunt family, Mary Hunt, for political reasons.
Fortunately, she was quite the lovable girl. Her large, round eyes were a deep hue of burnt sienna, and her long eyelashes only served to compliment them. She was almost like a precious doll. With her somewhat soft voice, she greeted me with great effort — she really was adorable. As I was the youngest in my family, it almost felt like I had suddenly gained a cute little sister of my own. I was glad.
Eventually, our conversation shifted to that of a small garden she had been taking care of in her manor’s central courtyard. It really was beautiful. When I praised her, saying that it was a wonderful and splendid little garden, Mary smiled, ever so slightly.
Her smile reminded me of a book I had read the day before called The Girl with the Green Thumb. The protagonist in the story was a girl with special hands — she had quite the talent at raising plants and caring for them. A green thumb, so to speak. Surely, Mary had these very same special hands too. And so I decided to mention this to her, but...
“In truth, I was told a few days ago that I had a green thumb. Special hands, too...”
“...”
It was as if my mind had been read — someone else had said this to Mary before me. I lost my train of thought, and was now speechless.
“Lady Katarina, who has been most kind to me, mentioned that to me just the day before.” A change seemed to have come over Mary as she recollected the scene. Staring into space and talking about the encounter, her expression was very much reminiscent of a maiden in love.
I, of course, was left in the dust, a
nd could only respond with a pallid “Ah... is that so.”
Mary seemed strangely prompted by my mere formality of a response, however, and started passionately talking about this “Lady Katarina.” From that day on, all Mary would talk about on my visits was Lady Katarina. When I tried to invite her over for tea, she promptly refused, stating that she had a “prior appointment with Lady Katarina.”
Who... Who even is this, “Lady Katarina”?! I felt a sense of resentment rise up within me — but soon enough, this question was answered.
Katarina Claes. A member of the Claes family, and the eldest daughter of Duke Claes himself... and she was Jeord’s fiancée too.
Jeord... takes everything away from me. All the while making that smug expression of his.
And now this? His fiancée, this Katarina Claes, is going to take Mary away from me?
I could feel my vision darkening once more. Before I knew it, I was already on a horse carriage to the Claes manor.
I was made to wait in the guest parlor. This Katarina Claes was late, but eventually she showed up and introduced herself. A girl with azure eyes and brown hair... apparently the same age as me, too. Although I would not call her ugly by any means, her blue eyes slanted upwards somewhat, giving off an impression of a somewhat strict and harsh person.
This was Jeord’s fiancée? The beautiful lady that Mary often praised? I could not believe my eyes. This was truly unexpected. In any case, I raised my concerns to this Katarina almost immediately.
“Did you know that Mary Hunt is now my fiancée?”
“Well, yes... I do know of that.”
I was incensed by the fact that she could say that with a straight face — and so readily, too.
“So you do know. Stop seducing her, then!”
“...S-Seduce?! What?!” Katarina’s azure eyes opened wide at the accusation. It was almost like she was pretending to know nothing about the affair — I became even more enraged.
My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!, Volume 1 Page 12
