9 : Danger

"Miss, what's our purpose for being here? If the Countess finds out we've left without permission, she'll be furious. Please, let's return home."

I glared at the maid behind me. "Stop calling me Miss. And don't mention the Count or the Countess. What if someone hears you? I'll hold you accountable if that happens. So, keep quiet and follow me." My mouth said at the maid. Here we go again. My own mouth is talking on it's own.

My maid and I sneak out from our residence as I'm searching for someone who might be able to help me.

Now, we're strolling through the bustling plaza. I halt in my tracks upon overhearing the conversation of the vendors we've just passed by.

"Have you heard of the news about Crown Prince Fraser's six-month training?" one woman asked the other.

The other woman nodded. "Yes, I have. It's a pity for the young Prince. I heard he's bound for the western region. But why would the King approve such a move? Isn't the western region notorious for its harsh environment?"

The two women continued to talk about Prince Fraser. I was surprised to hear them talking about it openly. I thought the King had kept the news of the Crown Prince's training under wraps for security reasons. With Vrawyth having only one heir, there were concerns about attempts on the Prince's life. Losing an heir could make Vrawyth vulnerable to takeover by other kingdoms.

I proceeded to walk and observe my surroundings, noting that many people were discussing Crown Prince Fraser. Approaching a nearby stall, I ask the vendor, "Excuse me, is it true that Prince Fraser has gone to the western region for training?"

The vendor scrutinized me for a moment, likely assessing my appearance. To avoid being recognized easily, I hide half of my face and concealed my distinctive purple hair. Despite my efforts, the vendor dismissed me with a wave of his hand and signaled for me to leave.

Frustrated, I scoured the area for someone else to inquire from. Concealing my identity made it challenging to approach strangers, especially as a child. Gazing at my maid, an idea struck me like a bolt of lightning.

I let my maid ask around about the Crown Prince and about the person I'm looking for. After five minutes or so, my maid comes back. 

"Miss everyone I ask knows that the Crown Prince went to train in the western region. Apparently, someone spread the news of it this morning. However, no one knows who's the source of the news. As for the person you're seeking, their identity remains a mystery to everyone I've spoken to. Some recommended checking the main library, but doing so might alert the Count and Countess to our absence."

I waved my hand and rose from my seat. "If that's the situation, it's best for us to head home. I'll seek help from someone else."

I'm increasingly worried about the safety of the Crown Prince. Something doesn't add up. Only high-ranking officials within the monarchy should have been aware of his training, so who leaked this information?

___________

"CSILLE LAURETRÉ! HOW DARE YOU SNEAK OUT AND GO TO THE PLAZA? DO YOU REALIZE HOW DANGEROUS IT IS?" My father's voice echoes through the room, filled with anger and concern.

I became so preoccupied with asking around that I lost track of time and forgot my parents would return home soon. Now, I'm being scolded by my father for sneaking out.

Count Waltier typically isn't strict with Csille, but today was an exception. With the Crown Prince's training underway, every official in the monarchy is on high alert. They're aware that this period presents an opportunity for enemies to harm the Crown Prince or the families of nobility.

I bowed my head and let my father scold me. He's just concerned for the safety of his only daughter. After all, if something were to happen to me, what would become of the Lauretré family?

"Dear, please stop shouting. Csille has likely learned her lesson, and she's unharmed. Let her stand up now," my mother intervened, trying to calm my father.

My father sighed and allowed me to stand up. After kneeling for over an hour, my knees had grown numb from the prolonged kneeling.

"Oh dear, look at your knees. They're bleeding," my mother exclaimed, shooting a disapproving glance at my father. "Hmph. Your father can be so heartless. Stand up. Let me take care of it."

As my mother led me to my room, I paused and glanced back at my father. "I'm sorry, Father. I was just bored, so I decided to explore. I didn't mean to cause you worry."

My father approached me, his tone softening. "I apologize if I came down too hard on you. I just got worried. What would we do if something bad happened to you?" He tenderly smoothed my hair and enveloped me in a hug. "Let your mother tend to your bruises. And next time, don't go out alone, alright? If you want to explore, take a guard with you."

I nodded in agreement and offered a smile before preparing to leave. However, a thought struck me, prompting me to halt. "Father, I overheard discussions in the plaza. Everyone seems to know about the Crown Prince's training in the western region. Wasn't the news supposed to be suppressed by the King?"

My parents grew quiet, clearly troubled by my news. After a moment, my father spoke up, his voice tinged with concern. "You're saying that the people in the plaza know about the Crown Prince's training in the western region?"

I nodded my head. "Yes, everyone knows it. From what they said, someone initiated the conversation early in the morning, and the information circulated from there. I inquired about its source, but it remained a mystery. Father, does this pose a threat to the Crown Prince?"

My father exchanged a glance with my mother before turning to me and shaking his head. "He isn't. Try not to dwell on it. Let your mother tend to your wounds and get some rest."

I simply nodded and allowed my mother to lead me to my bedroom.

"Mother, is everything alright?" I inquired as she attended to my wounds.

She paused her task and gazed at me, running her hand through my hair with a smile. "Don't dwell on it. Everything's fine. You should get to bed early tonight. You must be exhausted, my dear." With a gentle kiss on my forehead, she exited the room.

It's clear they're trying to reassure me, but how can I not worry? The Prince's safety is at stake. The real concern now is who's behind the spreading of this news?

I am the one who created this world, but why don't I know many things about it. Who could be responsible for this? It's likely someone among the officials, but if my assumption is correct, what could their motive be? Prince Fraser is the sole heir of the King and Queen, and if something were to happen to the Crown Prince, there would be no successor to the throne. This would put everyone in the Kingdom of Vrawyth in jeopardy.

What would anyone gain from ending the life of the crown prince? Such an act could only benefit a traitor. The question remains, who might this traitor be?

I bury my face in my pillow, grappling with the mystery. As the creator of this world, I should have all the answers, but there are too many unexplained occurrences. The threat to the crown prince's life was meant to occur during his second training, not the first.

For heaven's sake! He's just a nine-year-old child. Can't they spare him? But if there truly is a traitor, would they really let this opportunity slip by?

Take a breath, Ysavel. Think about the second training. The Crown Prince's life was in danger, but who was responsible? Hold on, I haven't even written that part yet. So how is there already a traitor in the story?

Is the traitor I'm considering the same one behind this? If so, what should I do? No one would believe a nine-year-old child. How could I forget that this person's identity is so impeccable that nobody would suspect them of being the traitor of the Kingdom of Vrawyth?

If that person isn't the traitor, then who is? Where did they come from? As the writer, why am I consistently kept unaware? Is it because I'm inhabiting the body of a nine-year-old? This situation feels incredibly unjust. I demand clarity!

What should I do now? Should I just wait and refrain from taking any action? I wish to send a letter to Prince Fraser, but how can I? The King has prohibited any communication with the Crown Prince.

What should I do? My gaze falls upon the Camellia flower from Prince Fraser. I pick it up and hold it in my hands.

Please stay safe, Your Majesty.

__________

"Csille!" A distant voice calls my name. I turn to see Rufus approaching.

Rufus Astalieu, Prince Fraser's cousin, and the son of the Duke of Vrawyth, who is the King's brother.

   I wave back at Rufus as he approaches, and he greets me with a hug. "Csille, it's been ages! You've grown into such a refined lady." I chuckle at his comment and step back from the embrace.

Raised by a Duke who pays little heed to royal titles and the monarchy's position, Rufus has been brought up as a noble, despite his status as a Prince.

 "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy studying at the boarding school?"

   Despite being three years older than Csille, Rufus and Csille formed a close friendship. They grew up together, often playing together as children. Rufus was the one who protected Csille when other children attempted to bully her because of her unique hair and eyes.

   Many children used to taunt Csille for her purple hair and eyes, just as they teased Rufus for his red hair and eyes.

Yes, Rufus's eyes were red, a feature that made other children afraid of him. However, I wasn't intimidated, which led to our friendship. This discrimination against Rufus's appearance contributed to his father's decision not to take a role in the monarchy. People in Vrawyth considered Rufus a cursed child because of his distinctive red eyes and hair.

 "I took a break. One of the sons of a noble family always bullies me there. I got fed up with his taunting that I beat him to pulp."

   I gasp at his words. "You're still the same Rufus, huh?"

   Rufus smile cheekily. "People never change. I'm just trying to live peacefully, but those nobles always ruin it."

I playfully punch his arm. "You might get into trouble for that one day. Try to keep your temper in check." I shake my head in mock disappointment.

   He raises both of his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. My bad. I'll try to keep it in check next time. So, how's my purplany doing?"

I roll my eyes at him, continuing to cut the flowers and ignoring his comment. He knows I detest that nickname. It's his way of getting back at me for his own name, Rufus, which means "red hair." Hence, he calls me purplany.

   "Oh, still the same? I don't get why you dislike it. It suits you." He grabs the flower I'm cutting.

I am learning flower arrangement today. Something to keep my mind off from thinking about Prince Fraser.

I shoot him a glare. "Would you appreciate it if I called you 'red hair'?"

He chuckles. "Feisty! I like it."

   I stomped my foot and grabbed his hand, sinking my teeth into it. He yelps in surprise and tries to pull away. Eventually, I release his hand and stick my tongue out at him. "That's what you get."

Rufus chuckles while holds his bitten hand. "And you're still as childish as ever."

I pause in my flower arranging and shoot him a look as if he's missing the obvious. "Well, duh! I'm only nine years old. Of course, I'm a child." I fold my arms and pout.

  "Alright, alright, Csille. I'll stop teasing you. You're no fun."

I toss the cut leaves at him. "I'm busy, can't you tell?"

   He gazes at the flower arrangement I'm working on. "It's quite a sight. The poor flowers are in disarray. I don't think flower arranging is your forte. Just accept it."

  I shoot him a glare and pout. "I'm only nine, you know? I'm still learning. I'll improve. Just you wait and see."

    He selects a morning glory blossom and places it gently behind my ear.

Morning glory? Doesn't it represent feelings of affection?

Come to think of this, Rufus is the second male lead in the story. He's the first to learn that Princess Paislee is posing as Prince Fraser's Royal guard. Keeping Princess Paislee's secret, he harbors feelings for her. He's one of the individuals that Prince Fraser feels envious of.

    I tried recalling all the scenes I've written involving Prince Fraser and Rufus. I chuckled at the irony of it all. These two will be vying for someone's affection. The twist? Rufus knows Princess Paislee's true identity, while Prince Fraser mistakenly believes he's homosexual.

"I'm looking forward to seeing it. I hope it wouldn't look like that," Rufus exclaimed.

"PRINCE RUFUS!"

Rufus just laughs and runs around the garden. I chase after him, and we start running around the garden, just like we used to when we were still young.

Rufus stopped running and raised both his hands. "I concede, your highness."

I just pouted at him and glared. "Look what you've done. The backyard is now a mess. I'll be in trouble if my parents find out."

Rufus scratches his head. "My bad. I'll just help you then. Don't worry, we'll have everything sorted by the time the Count and Countess return."

"You better do so."

After tidying up our mess, I resumed arranging the flowers. Rufus stood by, observing as I worked.

"To whom are you planning to give these flowers?"

I paused and pondered for a moment. The first person who came to mind was Prince Fraser, but I shook my head. Contacting the prince was impossible for the time being.

"I'll give it to my parents." I placed the last flower, completing the arrangement. "Does it look lovely?"

"It does," He replied. Turning to Rufus with a smile, but I noticed him gazing at me. "The flower is beautiful. You did a great job."

I just shake my head. "My mother and father will be glad to see you. You should just join our dinner."

"Okay, as long as you don't cook. I'm staying."

"Hey!"

Rufus chuckles in response, and I fix my gaze on him while he laughs. Can you still keep that smile after Princess Paislee chooses Prince Fraser, Rufus? I certainly hope so.