The Maid of the Cursed Princess

Louis Ferdinand d’Orléans had long been considered an eccentric.

For his every action dealt quite the shock to the nobles.

Unlike his brother who had campaigned on the battlefield from a young age, Prince Louis had walked the archetypal path of royalty – residing in the palace, socializing to build connections, cultivating support bases.

Thus, when the Crown Prince returned to the capital backed by the military and capitalists, the nobles propped up Prince Louis as his rival challenger, regardless of his own will.

However, separate from his support base or political standing, Prince Louis’s way of thinking differed significantly from that of typical royalty in many ways.

Unlike the Crown Prince, who upheld royal authority while suppressing the nobles and aiming to restore monarchical power through reforms backed by the rising capitalist class and military, Prince Louis hadn’t a shred of intent to assert such authority.

He would often remark, both publicly and privately, that he was royalty solely by chance of being born the King’s son, fundamentally no different from commoners or slum orphans save for his parents – remarks that left not just the nobles, but even capitalists dumbfounded.

And it wasn’t mere words. The Prince would frequently donate from his own wealth to the slums, inviting impoverished parentless children to his estate in Orléans’s suburbs whenever he could, routinely displaying an anti-authoritarian character.

Thus, no less than the reformist war hero Crown Prince, Prince Louis too enjoyed immense popular support from the masses. To the extent that even nobles supposed to support him voiced displeasure, while capitalists not backing him still held favorable impressions of the Prince himself.

Always frolicking with commoner children, deliberately letting them win to boost their self-esteem, the citizens affectionately mocked Prince Louis as the ‘Foolish Prince.’

“No way, this time you can’t let me win no matter what.”

“W-Well, I do feel bad about…”

Though few realized he was genuinely incapable of defeating them, not patronizingly yielding.

“Alright, hand over the candy.”

“Ugh… Okay, two each should do it?”

Wow, a Prince being shaken down by beggars.

Witnessing the Prince of this mighty Kingdom, a supposed descendant of the sun, being cowed by scruffy little orphans, Dorothy thought.

“…Hm?”

The Prince, who had risen while smiling a complex smile as he watched the children scamper off with candy in their mouths, abruptly met Dorothy’s intent gaze as he turned his head.

“…Ah.”

A prolonged, awkward silence accompanied by a dejected mutter.

“U-Um, I… that is…”

Perhaps it was due to the unsightly spectacle of losing to children, even begging for them to yield just once.

“This is, well, you see…”

The Prince stammered, face flushed as he flailed his arms about aimlessly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t speak of it.”

To reassure the Prince, Dorothy spoke up.

“The fact that you lost to those beggar children, even pleading for mercy just before your defeat is-“

“Waaahhhh-!!!!!!”

Though it didn’t seem to help much.

* * *

“Have you calmed down a bit?”

“Haa… Haa… Phew… Yes, I’m calm now… Thank you.”

Led by the Second Prince muffling her mouth while freaking out, Dorothy arrived at a park bench.

She had considered stopping him midway, but the palace wasn’t too far, and recklessly raising her hand against the Prince could cost her head.

So she allowed him to bring her to the park to catch his breath, sitting on the bench as she calmed the Prince who had belatedly realized his overreaction and hurriedly apologized. This was the story of their aimless flight until its inevitable end.

“My apologies, it seems I have caused you trouble.”

“No, it is alright.”

Dorothy had simply obliged the Prince, having nothing better to do at the moment anyway.

“That incident from before…”

“Rest assured, I will keep it a secret and not breathe a word to anyone.”

He was also an entertaining person, in a way.

“By the way… I don’t recognize your face, are you a newly appointed maid?”

“No, I was appointed a little while ago.”

“Then…”

Though not even a month had passed, as the Second Prince residing in the palace, he should have at least glimpsed the servants’ faces in passing occasionally.

“I am Dorothy Gale, attending to Princess Sibylla.”

“Ah, Sibylla…”

The Prince nodded, as if finally understanding.

“That’s right, Sibylla was supposed to attend this Heroes’ Festival too, wasn’t she? If Miss Gale is here, then Sibylla must be as well.”

“Yes, she is currently preparing within the palace.”

“…Hmm…”

At Dorothy’s words, the Prince closed his eyes and mumbled in a hushed voice, as if deep in thought.

“…It has been over a decade since Sibylla left Hyperion. As the brother who hasn’t even laid eyes on her once during that time, I may not have the right to ask… but is she doing well? Our sister…”

“I am doing my utmost with my meager abilities to ensure she can live as comfortably as possible.”

Dorothy couldn’t readily affirm that the Princess was doing well in response to his inquiry, for the fact remained that she was still imprisoned in the High Tower while burdened by an agonizing curse, and Dorothy’s capabilities were insufficient to properly care for her.

Guarding was different from caring for someone. While she could guard against assassins, as someone utterly inept at housework, Dorothy couldn’t properly take care of Sibylla.

“I see… I entrust my sister to you, Miss Gale. If only that dreadful curse didn’t exist… she would have been a child beloved by all the world…”

The Prince’s expression as he entrusted his sister to her was too complex to put into words.

Mournful eyes betraying sorrow, guilt, and fear in a jumbled mix of emotions.

“Understood.”

All Dorothy could say before the Prince was a simple ‘Understood.’

“By the way… did you know I am the Prince? I don’t recall mentioning it…”

She could have made the excuse that she had overheard the beggar children addressing him as Prince…

“I saw you once during my childhood.”

But Dorothy didn’t bother concealing the truth.

“It was during a past Heroes’ Festival, though you may not remember, Your Highness.”

With the massive crowds and Dorothy’s differing appearance, age, and even gender back then, it was only natural the Prince didn’t recognize her.

“You were seated in a prominent location, which is why I remember.”

But the boy had seen them – those limpid blue eyes unlike her own bloodshot slum-dweller’s gaze, clear like the open sky.

“Your eyes, Your Highness.”

You are a kind person.

Yet also a frail one.

* * *

Dorothy was soon summoned to Sibylla’s chambers upon returning to the palace.

“You have changed attire.”

“Indeed, she had me change. Though I suppose a pristine white cloak is better than that dingy black robe.”

It was merely Sibylla’s usual black robe changed to a white one, but still.

“Even so, I feel white suits the Princess better than black.”

“Enough with the flattery. So, what have you been doing?”

Should she simply say she had gone to rest?

Dorothy briefly pondered, for such a casual response might not sit well with her demanding master.

“I encountered the Second Prince.”

“…Brother Louis?”

So Dorothy honestly answered that she had met Louis Ferdinand d’Orléans, the current King’s second son and Sibylla’s own brother.

“…I see, this is Hyperion after all. So, what kind of person was my brother?”

“What kind of person, you ask…”

What kind of person had the Second Prince seemed to Dorothy?

“He gave off the air of a noble scion, perfectly refined.”

His appearance itself was flawless beyond reproach. While the Orléans royals were renowned for their looks, coupled with his Queen mother’s beauty and meticulous self-care, ‘noble scion’ was the most fitting description of the Prince’s appearance.

“Yet to an extent unbelievable for one born and raised in the royal family, he didn’t discriminate between high and low-born. I had never before seen royalty frolicking with commoner orphans.”

However, his character was somewhat at odds with the typical image of a noble scion – gentle yet courteous, with an undertone of deliberate vulnerability. That was how the Prince had appeared to Dorothy.

“Overall, he seemed a kind-hearted individual who would likely be a popular candidate for Princesses and nobles of other nations seeking a groom.”

Simply by virtue of being an Orléans Prince, he would already be a top candidate in high society.

With his handsome looks and amiable personality, many were likely already salivating over him, Dorothy mused.

“…I see.”

Sibylla responded in a slightly subdued tone compared to her usual affect.

“It seems you rather enjoyed your encounter with Brother Louis.”

“Enjoyed it… yes, I guess you could say I enjoyed it.”

Perplexed by her change in demeanor – whether gloomy or irked, Dorothy couldn’t know – as she had rather bluntly evaluated Sibylla’s own brother.

“Leave me for a moment.”

“…Pardon?”

“Out, now. That is an order.”

Though obediently following Sibylla’s dismissal laced with a silencing spell, Dorothy inwardly wondered.

Why?