Chapter 13: I kill the princess

Jon never expected Margaret to be so violent as to vent her anger on the weakest Poof.

He was caught off guard, and by the time he realized something was wrong, it was already a bit late.

But in the next second, Margaret’s face suddenly turned pale, and she gasped in pain.

“Ah—”

Jon looked down nervously, then couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time.

He saw that the Poof, which had originally been wrapped around his leg, had somehow turned into the shape of a cabinet corner, and had fiercely jabbed Margaret’s toes, which were only covered by a thin silk stocking.

Princess Unhappy’s ingrown toenail was probably about to act up.

And that kick seemed to have completely awakened Poof.

Lia, who had been a limp, unrecognizable mess, once again condensed into a wobbly, cute little girl.

The little girl staggered with every step, swaying unsteadily as if she were practicing drunken boxing, clearly not fully sober.

But Lia was only drunk, not dead.

As a Demon King, she had been constantly schemed against by disloyal subordinates, and had honed her anti-assassination skills through countless trials.

How could Margaret, a combat novice, possibly succeed in a sneak attack?

The moment Margaret lifted her foot, Lia already sensed danger: “Not good! Killing intent!”

Then she made the most appropriate response.

Drunk courage filling her, further provoked by the annoying Hero’s Triumphant Return, Lia had no mind to keep up any pretense.

In full view of everyone, she grabbed Jon’s clothes, climbed onto his shoulder in a few swift moves, held onto Jon’s ear, glared angrily at Margaret, and pointed with her delicate hand.

Her cherry lips opened and closed, cursing angrily.

Although no one present could hear what Lia was saying, everyone could sense it—this Poof was definitely swearing up a storm.

“Huh? This Poof is so spirited, has it turned into a spirit?”

Elita exclaimed in amazement.

“I told you! It’s definitely a transformed demon! Kill it quickly! Kill it!”

Margaret completely lost her composure.

Not only had she failed to teach Jon a lesson, she’d suffered at the hands of a Poof, and now the Poof was even pointing at her and cursing.

When had she ever suffered such humiliation?

The moment her words fell—

Lia suddenly jumped off Jon’s shoulder, struggled to pick up a nearby two-star Rock Poof that was bouncing around, and staggered over to Margaret’s feet.

Everyone watched her, not knowing what she intended.

In a split second, Lia leapt up and smashed the Rock Poof hard onto Margaret’s toes, ordering it to activate “hardening” at the exact moment of impact.

“Ah——!”

Margaret screamed in agony.

Having never seen a Poof actively attack, let alone use a double Poof combo, Margaret hadn’t thought to muster her strength for defense and took the full brunt of the blow.

Her already painful ingrown nail was now in even worse shape.

Jon nearly burst out laughing, but remembering how immoral it would be, he quickly suppressed it.

Even Yuna’s mouth twitched slightly.

Only Elita, looking serious, walked over to Margaret’s shoulder and bent down to inspect.

Margaret thought she was showing concern and helping her examine the injury.

Her pale face relaxed a little.

“Thanks, El—”

But before she could finish her sentence, she saw Elita pick up the Rock Poof, dart back to the bed, and start examining it on her own, paying no heed to Margaret at all.

Margaret stood frozen for a good four or five seconds.

Slowly, a layer of mist gathered in her amber eyes.

She looked at Jon.

Jon turned his head away, ignoring her, and even picked up the Poof that had bullied her, cradling it protectively in his hand.

She looked at Yuna.

Yuna lowered her eyes, remaining silent, not speaking up for her either, as if a single slap had ended all their former sisterly bonds.

How could she not take a joke?

“Do you really have to treat me this way?”

Margaret stared hard at Jon, her voice trembling, on the verge of tears.

Jon saw there was no escaping and could only reply sincerely:

“Miss Margaret, I almost suspect you’ve been subjected to Black Magic Hypnosis.”

“You were the one trying to hit us. I didn’t even fight back—the only one who did was the Poof.”

“You bullied me.”

“…If anyone was bullied, it was you being reverse-bullied by the Poof.”

“Do you have to be so cruel to me?”

“…Hey? Miss Margaret, get a grip. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Do you know my father wants to betroth me to you?”

“His Majesty would never make such a foolish deci—huh? Wait a minute? What did you just say? What did you just say?!”

Seeing Jon’s dazed and shocked expression, Margaret finally felt she’d regained some ground.

Her pride restored, she lifted her chin, let out a soft “hmph,” turned, and left without another word.

Bang.

The heavy sound of the door slamming echoed.

Jon sat in the room, dumbfounded for a long time.

His expression was as bewildered as if he’d just seen a bird under his girlfriend’s skirt.

He turned stiffly to Yuna.

“Did Miss Margaret just speak in some kind of highly obscure code?”

Yuna was silent for a few seconds before answering quietly:

“She told the truth.”

“What truth?”

“After the Hero’s Triumphant Return, a Noble Alliance Marriage with a high noble is tradition in the Empire. His Majesty placing his beloved daughter in the Hero’s party and even assigning her command of a unit of the Royal Imperial Guard was a clear signal.”

“S-Signal?”

“That signal was… His Majesty wants this generation’s Hero—meaning you, Jon—to form a Noble Alliance Marriage with the royal family and become a branch of the imperial line.”

Yuna looked at Jon with a complicated expression.

Jon’s mouth fell open, and he was speechless for a full seven or eight seconds.

Finally.

“But Miss Margaret seems to hate me.”

He finally managed to say.

“Yes… She holds herself above others and prides herself on her intellect. Forcing her into a Noble Alliance Marriage with a man she doesn’t love would never make her happy. But she can’t hate His Majesty, so her resentment falls on you.”

“Then why doesn’t she just tell His Majesty clearly? That she hates me, she loves someone else, and doesn’t want a Noble Alliance Marriage?”

“In a royal family, things are never that simple.”

“His Majesty is her father after all…”

“His Majesty is, above all, His Majesty.”

Jon fell silent, deep in thought.

He frowned for a long time before finally asking:

“She’s afraid His Majesty would hate her for it?”

“…You can think of it that way.”

Yuna seemed unwilling to continue.

She felt a headache coming on.

Jon’s background and lack of education made him politically insensitive.

“I understand.”

Jon sighed heavily.

“As long as you understand… It’s late. I shouldn’t stay any longer. Then… good night?”

Yuna’s mind was in turmoil, and she was eager to leave.

Too much had happened tonight, and she needed time alone to think about what to do next.

“Good night.”

Jon nodded.

Yuna also left quietly.

Jon sat there, frowning in thought for a long time.

He sighed deeply, patted Lia, and turned to prepare for bed.

…And then he saw Elita sprawled out on the bed in all directions.

Remembering her excessive pranks today, Jon’s forehead twitched with veins.

If it weren’t for the diplomatic issues between humans and elves, he’d have loved to grab a broom and smack her.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

Jon asked grumpily.

But Elita was more serious than ever.

She poked the Rock Poof in her hand and said solemnly:

“Jon, this Poof is strange.”