There Is No Place For Fakes

Chapter 11: 11


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Time flew by and Philomel was ten years old. She was spending time with Nassar, who visited her as usual.

Nassar asked at once.

“Does Her Highness hate me by any chance?”

Philomel, who was reading a book, looked in amazement at Nassar, who was sitting on the side opposite her.

“Pardon? No way. I don’t hate you.”

However, the boy’s dark expression did not ease.

“…Did you hear the conversation I had with my father that day?”

The time Nassar was talking about was the day he came to visit with his father. And it was the day Philomel decided to let go of her heart for him.

As Philomel fell silent, Nassar rose from his chair and knelt on her floor.

“I apologize.”

“Nassar! Get up!”

Philomel, startled by his sudan action, stretched out her hand.

“No. I will ask for your forgiveness until Her Highness feels better.”

But Nassar resolutely did not lift his bowed head, so Philomel said cautiously.

“It’s not for Nassar to ask me for forgiveness. It’s okay because he didn’t curse at me behind my back, and I was not trying to listen to it on purpose. I just happened to hear it.”

“…Having that kind of heart is itself a problem.”

‘It was embarrassing.’

It wasn’t that Philomel hated Nassar. Well, she, of course, was resentful of him at that time. However, as time passed, her resentment dissipated.

“How is it? It’s not like I can do what I want with my heart.”

Philomel sincerely thought so. His love wasn’t something she could have because she desperately wanted it, and if he couldn’t love her, it wasn’t his fault either.

But Nassar did not agree.

“I have to control even my heart. So, it is my fault for harboring evil intentions.”

Philomel felt a little bit sad for Nassar.

‘I wonder how strict the Duke is with his son.’

The Duchy of Avridon was famous for educating his sons very harshly. If it’s academic, it’s academic, if it’s swordsmanship, it’s swordsmanship. It seemed that the Duke was even more enthusiastic because he was Nassar, who could do anything if he was asked to do so. 

As Philomel herself took the successor training in earnest, she came to understand, at least a little, what Nassar’s struggles were.

The shoulders of Nassar, who was kneeling in front of her, seemed unusually small to her.

The crying boy begged.

“Aside from that, if there is anything you don’t like, please let me know. Since I was born to serve Her Highness, I will fix it if you tell me.”

Philomel couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Why was Nassar born to serve me? Nassar is just Nasar!”

“But my father says I must always serve Her Highness with that mindset…”

Apparently, that young boy had been trained to be the princess’ mate from a very long time ago. Even at the level of brainwashing.

‘Peacock! What have you done to your son!’

Philomel held her forehead.

‘If you hang on to me like this and later find out that I’m not the princess, aren’t you blaming me for nothing?’

After all, Nassar cannot be left in that state.

“Nassar, sit here.”

When Philomel spoke resolutely, the stunned boy obediently followed.

“Follow me.”

“Yes?”

“Just repeat what I say once.”

“All right.”

“I am a valuable person.”

Nassar hesitantly repeated.

“…I am a valuable person.”

“I was not born for someone else’s sake.”

“… I was not born for someone else’s sake.”

“I will live as I want.”

“I will live…”

The boy’s voice, which seemed to have died down, burst out after a while.

“I’ll live as I please.”

He was the heir to the duchy and would eventually marry the princess, Ellencia, but Philomel still wanted him to live his own life.

“It was just great. Let’s just do it like this.”

“Yeah!”

The brainwashing process continued for a while, and even Philomel questioned if it would be effective.

After the promised time passed, it was time for Nassar to return.

“Then, Your Highness… I’ll leave now.”

Nassar hesitantly said goodbye. But somehow, it seemed that he didn’t really want to go back.

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‘Isn’t the Duke ordering this and that as soon as he leaves?’

Feeling sorry for him acting like an uneaten puppy, Philomel stopped Nassar from leaving.

“Nassar. Have dinner with me tonight.”

“… may I?”

“Sure. I’ll tell the Duke. And Nassar.”

“Yes?”

“From now on, if the Duke tells you to do something you don’t want to do over and over and over and over again… Just ignore it.”

“…I will try.”

“If he tries to tell you that nonsense again, tell me. I’ll punish the Duke.”

Nassar laughed as if he thought it was a joke.

“I’m not kidding. I can really scold a Duke.”

At least as long as the Duke recognized Philomel as the princess.

That day, Nassar had supper and chatted with Philomel before returning home. Nassar shyly confessed that he wanted to become a warrior instead of a duke. Although the duke would never let his precious only son slay monsters, Philomel cheered eagerly.

It was at that time that she learned about the boy ‘Nassar’, who was not the male protagonist in the book, not the heir of Avrydon.

‘Yes. This is enough.’

As Nassar waved his hand and left, Philomel thought that even if she didn’t have to be close to Nassar any more than necessary, she didn’t even bother to stick around.

“I’ll just have to stay like this.”

Everything was peaceful.

* * *

The night Nassar returned, Philomel approached the stove where the fire was burning, holding <Princess Ellencia>.

“Because I memorized everything…”

Meanwhile, Philomel read, read, and read that book. Just in case, she changed the important information to a cryptic phrase and put it somewhere else. And not just in one place, but scattered all over the place. There was no need to risk taking possession of Princess Ellencia any longer. It was time to destroy the only evidence. That book was too dangerous. In the meantime, the existence of the book has not been noticed even by the maid who cleans the room, but there is no law that says so in the future.

“Eh!”

Philo Mel looked back and forth between the fire and the book, she hesitated, then, closing her eyes, she threw the book into the fire.

The paper burned and turned to ash. But at that moment, the transformation happened. A beam of light spread across the floor right in front of the stove, and <Princess Ellencia> appeared. That too, with a fine appearance without a trace of soot.

Philomel was so startled that he stared blankly at the book on the floor.

* * *

The next day, Philomel visited the Imperial Magic Research Institute located in the Magic Hall building.

“Here’s tea.”, said the sorcerer.

The sorcerer, Humphrey, put down a cup of hot tea in front of the princess.

“I’ll have a good drink.”, she replied clearly.

Wearing a dainty cape, in the presence of Philomel, he watched with delight as the young princess drank her tea. Humphrey was a wizard introduced to Philomel by Count Pollan when she told him she had a question about magic. He was originally a talented person at the Mage Tower, but he changed his job a while ago or something.

“Your Highness, so what are you curious about? I’ll tell you as much as I know.”

“I read it in a book, and I heard there is such a magic…”

Philomel poured out questions about this and that, deliberately citing magic in fairy tales that would be deceptive to children. It was a camouflage to hide the real question.

“That seems like the author of the book exaggerated.

Humphrey replied wholeheartedly. After some time had passed as they exchanged questions and answers, Philomel brought up the topic she was most curious about.

“At times like this, it would be really nice to have a book that tells the future!”

“Are you talking about a Prophecy?”

“Yes! Come to think of it, I’ve only heard rumors about the book of prophecy, but does such a book actually exist?”

Humphrey rubbed his chin and chose his words carefully.

“You can say it exists, and you can say it doesn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, isn’t what is commonly referred to as a prophetic book an accurate record of what will happen in the future?”

“Yes, it is.”

“But that’s theoretically and practically impossible.”

‘Impossible?’

Philodel’s expression naturally crumpled.

“You look disappointed. It’s true though. The future that wizards predict with magic is just a cross section of countless possibilities.”

“What about priests?”

Philomel couldn’t let go of her lingering feelings and asked.

“The priest’s prophecy is the same. In fact, even the prophecy made by the high priest misses by about 30%. In fact, it is difficult to say that the remaining 70% were also completely correct.”, he uttered enthusiastically.

“Most of the prophecies are things that can only be said with ambiguous words, and later, when plausible results come out, you can say that they have come true. If you put it on your ears, it’s an earring, and if you put it on your nose, it’s a nose ring. Based on the prophecy 10 years ago that the wrath of God would descend from the sky, wouldn’t it be said that it foretold the shooting star that fell the other day? The temple is also needlessly conservative…”

‘Oops.’, Hamfrey covered his mouth with a cold face.

“Oh, I never questioned the existence of God. When I talk about magic, I tend to go too far…”

“So Humphrey means there is no such thing as a prophetic book?”

“That’s right. Most of the books on the market that talk about prophecies are pure nonsense. Only a small part of them are books in which priests or wizards wrote down the possibilities they saw. How can you know the future with certainty if it’s not God?”

But Philomel already knew such a book.

“Then what is the book about?”

Philomel pursed her lips.

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