Royal Palace – Princess Munith’s Private Chamber

The door to Munith’s private chamber closed with a soft click. After making sure it was shut firmly, Rene locked the door with a swift motion.

He turned to find Her Highness Munith already on her bed, still dressed and all, lying down with a bright smile, facing the ceiling.

“Ahh, today’s pretty great, huh?” she said before letting out a relaxed sigh.

Rene didn’t waste anytime and began preparing her tea, which was brought in by the maids moments before their return. After a quick inspection of the liquid inside, Rene deduced it was safe to drink and began pouring a cup.

When he turned to serve the tea, he found the princess already on her writing desk once more, preparing several sheets of paper and bottles of ink for another writing session.

“The next book’s gotta be special, but how should I write it?” she mumbled to herself as she made herself comfortable.

Rene thought that if she was going to start writing now, she would inevitably stay past her curfew again. But no matter how much Rene tried, Munith never seemed to budge.

Holding back a concerned sigh, Rene slowly made their way to the writing desk and placed the cup of tea on the side table.

“Your tea, Your Highness.”

“Ah, thank you, Rene!” Munith said with a cheerful gait before returning to ponder upon the blank pages of her soon-to-be book.

Rene took several steps back to give her some space. And as they did, the sight of Munith happily mumbling to herself stirred something in them.

Munith had always worn a smile. Sometimes they were gentle smiles, bright smiles, or awkward smiles. But those were never her real smiles.

Those smiles were ones she had been practising since childhood. Smiles meant to project the image of how a princess should be. Rene had watched her practice them, sometimes alone, sometimes together, until she no longer needed to try.

And because of that, Rene knew.

The smile she wore today… It was true.

And it wasn’t like her usual smile either. This smile was a genuine, bright smile. The kind of smile that came from finding a new friend, or from a day too good to keep to oneself.

A smile Rene had never once seen her wear so truthfully before.

And this smile had been the new normal ever since that day.

The day she went to the academy.

The day she met that student.

The day she met Feyt.

Ever since that day, Rene was both intrigued and slightly concerned.

This Feyt was no more than a commoner. A distinguished commoner with strong feats, yes, but a commoner nonetheless. Rene had always wondered what it was that made Munith so interested in that commoner.

Bottling these doubts and concerns had been a challenge this past week. It wasn’t helped by how vague she was with her intent.

Both worried for her and curious about her goals, Rene decided to try to ask.

“Your Highness?”

“Yes, Rene?” Munith didn’t look away from her desk.

“Would you be staying up late again tonight?”

A light chuckle escaped her lips. “Don’t worry, I’m not in such a hurry this time.” She waved it off. “You don’t need to nag me again, no worries!”

“It’s just that… I am concerned… Your Highness. These past few days, you’re… not quite yourself. You’ve been writing all night for the past few days. You barely travelled outside of the palace. And you were always in such a hurry that we didn’t even announce her arrival in the academy today…”

“Hmm… i guess it was reckless of me… But I just couldn’t wait to meet Feyt, you know?” she said, finally turning to Rene. “Though I am quite disappointed he hadn’t read through my previous books, I had learned so much more about him today.”

“Your Highness… Is this Feyt… really that special?”

The question seemed to still the air as silence filled the room.

Munith faced Rene fully, her smile turned amused, a familiar true smile she often wore.

“Why, of course, he is. Haven’t I said so already?” She straightened in her seat as she continued. “He is one of the ones that I’ve been searching for, after all…”

“But how can you be certain?”

Silence continued to flow through the room. 

Another small chuckle escaped Munith. She turned briefly to her desk, writing down something on one of the blank sheets of paper. Then, she turned to Rene once more, presenting the paper with both hands.

“Here,” she said.

Rene took a step closer to analyse the writing. The characters were elegant, clearly written with confidence.

Yet also incomprehensible.

“What is this, Your Highness?”

Instead of answering immediately, Munith spoke.

A smooth, flowing sound left her lips. It was spoken like a regular greeting. Then she smiled.

“That meant ‘good evening.’”

Rene’s eyes lowered to the paper again.

Rene blinked, connecting the dots. The words Munith said and the text on the paper… it was the same foreign language that Munith had always been fascinated by.

“I see,” Rene replied carefully. “However, I do not understand how this—”

“Repeat it,” Munith interrupted Rene, placing the paper face down on her lap.

“Pardon?”

“Say it,” she clarified. “Say ‘good evening’ in that language.”

The request was simple, but Rene failed to find the reasoning behind it.

“As you wish, Your Highness…”

Rene took a deep breath, but when the words were about to leave their mouth, Rene found themselves… troubled.

Where had the sentence begun?

Was the first word sharp, or was it soft?

Did the second word start right after, or after a delay?

Even the rhythm of sounds felt blurred.

Rene attempted it anyway.

What left their mouth was fractured, disjointed syllables stitched together poorly. It did not resemble what Munith had spoken at all.

“Having some trouble? That’s fine.” She shifted slightly and gestured toward the desk. “Come here.”

Rene stepped beside her.

Munith placed a blank sheet before them and dipped a fresh pen in ink.

Rene stood by Munith’s side, a blank paper was presented to him.

“Now,” she said, sliding the pen into Rene’s hand, “write it exactly as you saw it.”

Rene hesitated.

“…As you wish.”

They lowered the pen to the page. The characters Munith had written were striking, elegant, and spoke true of her handwriting skills. Yet… the moment the tip of the pen touched the page…

Where did the first stroke begin?

Were the shapes more rectangular or circular?

How long was the sentence anyway?

“In passing?”

The pen stayed in place, ink began to leak around onto the paper, the tip.

Rene stared at the growing blot.

It hadn’t been a single minute since Munith both showed and spoke the words. Yet, Rene was drawing complete blanks on both sides. 

Am I having a cold?

Rene frowned at the absurd thought.

Their memory was not poor. They had memorized entire diplomatic transcripts in a single sitting. They could recall schedules down to the seconds. Though it was mostly trained and not due to a Talent, it was something Rene was proud of.

And yet—

“Rene.” Munith’s voice was gentle, almost calming. “You may stop now.”

With reluctance, Rene lifted the pen and placed it carefully on the desk, stepping back from the desk.

“My apologies, Your Highness. I seem not to be well…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You’re as well as you always been,” she said with a smile. “That was a perfectly normal reaction, I expected it fully.”

“Perfectly… normal?”

Munith nodded, folding her hands neatly atop her lap.

“It’s a bit hard to explain, but to put it simply, nearly everyone in this world would react the same way you did if they ever tried to speak or write the same thing. You wouldn’t even scratch the surface of learning it, even if you dedicate an entire year. There’s a reason why you can’t find a book about this language in any library back in Ortensia.”

Rene glanced at the ink blot once more.

“But Feyt,” she continued, almost casually, “he understood me completely when I used that language. When I tried confronting him about it, he told me he learned it in passing.”

Rene’s eyes sharpened slightly.

“In passing?”

Munith smiled and nodded.

“To hear him respond was proof enough; he is the one.”

Silence once again consumed the room.

She did not elaborate any further. The point she made was already clear, despite the lingering questions in Rene’s mind.

Munith simply turned back to her desk, seemingly eager to start writing once more.

“If he ever sends a letter to your address,” she added casually, “you are to inform me immediately. No delays, understood?”

Rene lowered their gaze.

“…Understood, Your Highness. I shall personally see to it.”

“Good.” Munith hummed in approval, already halfway lost in her writing. “Oh, and make sure not to glare at him the next time we meet, okay?”

She noticed?

“…Of course, Your Highness.”

“Wonderful! You’re the best, Rene!”

Munith began to hum a tune as her pen continued to scribble across the parchment. 

Rene stepped back into their usual position near the wall, posture straight, thoughts anything but.

Then, after a few strokes, her writing slowed.

“Now that Feyt understands the chant properly…” she murmured, almost to herself. “I wonder how his friend is gonna do in the duel.”

An amused chuckle left her lips before she continued to write once more.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep