Michael’s eyes darted over to her, searching for any hint of threat. But what he found was something else entirely.
Curiosity.
Genuine, sharp, and bright—like a scholar peering into a rare specimen rather than a hunter tracking prey.
He swallowed once and let out a breath.
“I… don’t know what you mean,” he said carefully. “I’m from far away. Really far. A small place… probably not worth mentioning. I doubt it’s on any maps.”
Priscilla didn’t interrupt him, didn’t press. She simply stared, letting him fill the silence.
Michael continued, mind working at full speed.
“I guess… you could say I’m a traveler. My origin isn’t something I speak about openly, not because I’m hiding anything dangerous, but because it’s complicated. I hope you won’t take offense.”
The Princess inclined her head, voice calm. “I see. You’re careful. That’s wise.”
He didn’t answer.
However…
“You seem really talented in magic though. Surely no ‘small’ place can cultivate a genius like you.”
“As for my talents…” Michael forced a faint smile. “Maybe I was just born with a bit more mana than average. Some people win lotteries.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. “And your physique?”
Michael paused. “I… trained a lot.”
That earned the ghost of a smirk from her. “There are mages who train their bodies. But those who balance both evenly are rare. And you… you go far beyond that.”
At this point, Michael knew his activities since meeting Mage Lian seemed to have have reached the princess eyes.
He’s been snitched on!!!!
“I had good teachers,” Michael added quickly. “And maybe good parents. I don’t really know.”
She tilted her head at that, sensing a veiled truth. But still—no aggression. Just quiet intrigue.
“And your summons,” she said, voice lowering.
Michael felt a trickle of cold sweat at his nape. Of all the things—
“You’ve summoned undead,” she said. “Grand-tier strength. Possibly more than one.”
Michael gave a slow nod. “Yes.”
“That in itself is remarkable, if not alarming. But what concerns me more…” She paused, eyes glinting. “Is the fact I’ve been informed that you summoned one without invoking any spell. No magic. No scroll. No chant. It just… appeared.”
Michael went silent.
She floated forward—not threatening, but close enough that he could feel the weight of her mana pressing lightly against his skin.
It wasn’t oppressive, just… present. Unavoidable.
“Do you have a spatial treasure that stores summons?” she asked.
Michael had already prepared for this.
“Yes,” he said smoothly. “It’s rare, and not something I’m comfortable showing. But it allows me to summon specific beings I’ve bonded with. That’s probably what you saw.”
“Hmm.” Her eyes didn’t blink. “That would explain it. But how many such beings are you bonded with?”
He hesitated.
“…Three.”
“Three. All grand tier?”
He nodded.
She took another step forward, close enough now that her scent reached him—cool and herbal, like night-blooming flowers in moonlight.
“You lie well,” she said softly.
Michael tensed.
“But not with ill intent,” she continued, raising one hand as though waving away the tension. “It’s natural to guard your secrets. I don’t hold it against you.”
He blinked.
She gave a small smile, for the first time letting emotion bleed through her regal composure.
“No. I’ve met enough monsters, deceivers, and saints to tell the difference.”
He didn’t quite know how to respond to that.
Instead, he looked up at her again, more carefully this time.
“You said you asked for me,” Michael finally said, his voice quieter.
“Yes,” she answered, turning slightly to gaze into the trees. “Lian’s report intrigued me. A youth under twenty with strength that rivals or surpasses most court mages. Command over death. And—more importantly—an aura that doesn’t quite… fit.”
Michael stiffened again. “What do you mean?”
She looked back at him. “You don’t move like a person of this world. Your instincts, your wariness… your restraint. You feel like someone who’s seen too much. But not from the battlefield. From outside.”
Michael forced a chuckle. “Maybe I’m just socially awkward.”
To his surprise, she actually laughed—a soft, silvery sound that seemed to disturb the very leaves around them.
“Maybe,” she said, the corner of her lip quirking. “But I suspect there’s more.”
He exhaled slowly, then finally met her gaze without flinching.
“Is this going to be a problem?” he asked.
She was quiet for a beat too long.
Then: “No.”
Michael’s brows rose.
“You have too many unknowns,” she said, “but you also have too many qualities the kingdom needs.”
Michael didn’t know what to say.
Princess Priscilla, meanwhile, floated away, her cloak fluttering lightly behind her.
“I won’t press you again. For now.”
He relaxed a fraction.
But then she added, “However, I’ll be watching. Closely.”
“Fair,” he said quietly.
She gave one last look back over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.
“Welcome to the Lionheart Kingdom, Sir Mic.”
Then she vanished—no flash, no light. Just gone, as if the air reclaimed her.
Michael stood there in the forest for a while, unsure what had just happened… but certain of one thing.
He’d just lied to royalty and survived.
Barely.
Then another realization struck him.
“Hey! You left me alone!”
Unfortunately…
No response.
Michael’s lips twitched.
Though different, the princess reminded him of Teacher Brian.
They shared certain traits, it seemed.
“Are all King-rank experts weird?” he muttered.
Despite being stranded, Michael wasn’t too afraid.
Surely, the princess wouldn’t take him somewhere dangerous… right?
Still, a flicker of unease lingered in his chest.
He hurriedly climbed one of the taller trees nearby. After a few moments, he relaxed visibly.
She hadn’t taken him that far.
They were still close to the main group.
At a normal walking pace, it wouldn’t take more than five minutes to return.
“Seems like I should be more careful from now on.”
As his words echoed faintly in the air, Michael’s form vanished with a small gust of wind.
As his words echoed faintly in the air, Michael’s form vanished with a small gust of wind.
********
A/N: Happy New Month!!!!!