FTMR 03

Chapter 3

The Princess Will Surely Be Happy

While Anette fought the beasts, those assigned to escort her safely to the Arkan Imperial Palace abandoned their duty and fled.

But even if they managed to escape the onslaught of beasts, could they have made it back to the kingdom unharmed…?

Even Anette herself was battered and bruised, forced to fight barehanded after discarding her broken arrow, utterly exhausted.

Fortunately, she had finally cleared the beasts and spotted a fleeing horse, which she mounted and rode toward the Arkan capital. Yet her back, left leg, and right arm were severely wounded, and her body was smeared with beast blood.

Heat coursed through her body, the pain intensifying to the point that she couldn’t even scream.

‘Even near the Beast’s Swamp… why did so many of them attack at once, like they had been waiting?’

Suspicion filled her mind, but whether it was due to her severe injuries or the beast blood coursing through her, her heart raced unnaturally fast, leaving her unable to think clearly.

In fact, she hadn’t even realized the changes happening to her body.

She tore at her dress’s hem but didn’t notice the overly long garment or the heavy hood—habitually lifting the hood’s covering from her eyes.

Since the Hayworth Kingdom and Arkan Empire were neighboring lands, two days by carriage would suffice. Having already traveled a day, she expected the imperial palace wouldn’t be far.

As dawn broke, the outer walls of the palace came into view.

Perhaps relieved, her body—pushed to the limit—collapsed from exhaustion, and she fell from the horse.

The gatekeepers at the massive palace gates approached in shock. Anette retrieved a sealed envelope she had never parted with since leaving the palace.

“This… is for His Majesty, the Emperor…”

Inside was the engagement pledge bearing her signature.

“I am… Anette Hayworth of Hayworth…”

She gasped, trying to declare her identity, but exhaustion overtook her, and her voice faltered.

The document alone couldn’t fully prove her identity—but Anette didn’t worry.

Her red hair and eyes, which had constrained her since birth, would serve as proof.

For the first time, she was grateful for that—and she fainted.

〈How… how could a beast’s child be born from the queen’s body?!〉

Twenty-four years ago.

The King of Hayworth had recoiled in horror upon seeing newborn Anette.

Her hair and eyes were a vivid, unnatural red—an omen of misfortune.

For generations, the southern continent’s lands had been divided: the Arkan Empire and Hayworth Kingdom to the south, Bayendor to the north, separated by a massive forest called the “Beast’s Swamp.”

The blood of beasts residing there was highly toxic to humans.

Those exposed had to purify themselves in a temple within a month, or else die—or survive with twisted, blackened features, crimson eyes, and possible madness.

No one on the continent was unaware of this. The King of Hayworth was horrified to see his daughter born with eyes as red as beasts’.

And her hair—red!

The Hayworth royal family had always been born with silver hair, a point of pride for the king and his eldest son, Franz.

Anette’s hair was a rare color, not found even in her maternal Richel family line—virtually unseen across the continent.

〈A bad omen! A certain curse!〉

When the kind and beautiful queen died shortly after giving birth to the red-haired, red-eyed baby, the king directed all his anger at Anette.

Unable to find any red-haired male consort who could have fathered her, he denounced Anette as the cursed seed of beasts.

Rumors spread that the queen had consorted with a beast, and the grieving, drunken king tried to suppress them—but never corrected what he had said to Anette.

Conscious of appearances, he recognized her as a princess but confined her to a distant palace, detesting even a single strand of her hair.

It was hardly a place for a newborn—a death sentence in disguise.

Anette’s birth also affected Franz, the crown prince. Once pampered, he lost his mother and grew frail, forced to relocate to another palace.

Everyone in the court knew that behind the king’s cruelty stood Queen Esther, the maid who had revived the despondent king.

The king favored the ten-years-younger Esther, making her queen as soon as she bore her first child, Bridget.

With a new queen in the palace, the king ignored his first daughter, leaving Anette to suffer neglect and ridicule even from palace servants.

Had it not been for Sarah, a loyal maid to the late queen and Franz’s nanny, who took care of Anette, she might have grown illiterate, uneducated, or died.

〈I’m sorry, nanny… because of me…〉

Even as a child, Anette felt guilt for the hardships Sarah endured on her behalf.

She feared she was the cursed seed of a beast, and Sarah was the only one who stayed by her side, comforting her nightly.

〈The princess will surely be happy. Endure, no matter how painful it is.〉

Sarah always spoke with certainty. Anette would not die in that palace—she would find happiness.

But when Anette turned seven, Sarah passed away.

It wasn’t a serious illness—just a cold from lack of firewood, which developed into pneumonia. She died without treatment.

After that, Anette endured alone in the palace, rarely seeing Franz.

Seven years later, she asked the king’s permission to go on a beast hunt.

Better to die living a real life than exist meaninglessly in the palace.

The king was furious—how could a 14-year-old girl hunt beasts? He thought it childish attention-seeking.

But soon he reconsidered: better for the troublesome, tenacious Anette to hunt beasts than remain in the palace. Thus, he allowed her to join the Royal Knights.

Seven years later, she would become the continent’s greatest swordswoman—unaware of the title at the time.

‘But now, even that glorious title means nothing due to my injuries.’

Exhausted, Anette felt the futility of it all. She had endured, as Sarah had said, yet happiness remained elusive.

When she first hunted beasts, she felt purpose. But the endless cycle of killing brought crushing monotony. At times, she couldn’t even tell if she was human or beast.

‘Nanny lied…’

She muttered this to herself, surprised by the emotion.

After Sarah died, Anette’s speech and emotions had dulled. Becoming a knight only heightened this suppression. She thought she had lost her feelings entirely—until now.

‘Like a child again…’

〈My beloved daughter…〉

Suddenly.

〈My precious child, you will become a truly extraordinary person.〉

The unfamiliar voice froze her body as if struck by lightning.

Gentle words continued:

〈Mom knows. Our daughter is strong and remarkable.〉

“Mo…mom? Don’t go… don’t… ugh!”

Anette cried out, eyes opening to the throbbing of her battered limbs.

Yet even with the pain, her consciousness didn’t fully clear.

‘The voice I just heard…’

It had probably been a dream. No newborn or unborn child could remember their mother’s words.

Tears streaked her cheeks—the first in years since Sarah’s death.

At twenty-four, she felt foolish for dreaming like this.

‘And she would probably hate me anyway.’

Guilty for calling the gentle voice “Mom,” thinking it was the late queen, she reflected that the queen would resent her involvement in scandals caused by her birth.

Like her biological father, the King of Hayworth.

“……”

Thinking of the king’s displeased, frowning face, her consciousness began to rise.

Looking up at the ornate ceiling, she blinked and felt the softness enveloping her. She propped herself up.

Surveying the luxurious bedroom, she realized she had reached the Arkan Imperial Palace.

“Ah… thank goodness… hmm?”

Relieved at surviving and arriving safely, she stopped—something about her voice felt strange.

Fatigue, she assumed—but the warm, soft blanket felt unusually heavy.

Curious, she pulled back the blanket from her neck to her chin—and froze.

“…W-what…?”

Why… had her body shrunk?