episode_0023

A fresh white canvas spread out on the table. I seated the princess on my lap, preparing to draw on the canvas. The princess eagerly grasped a black crayon, but when it came time to draw, she seemed hesitant, unable to move her hand as if overwhelmed.

“Princess?”

“…I don’t know what to draw.”

Staring blankly at the white canvas, the princess pouted slightly, looking unsure of what to draw despite being told to draw something she likes.

“Well then, should I go first? Something I like is…”

Taking the black crayon from the princess’s hand, I began drawing on the upper right side of the canvas. It wasn’t exactly something I liked, but suddenly something came to mind.

Not long after I was transmigrated, I noticed a chubby tricolor cat with one gray ear and one orange ear that I saw every day from the window overlooking the garden.

“A chubby cat!”

As the cat was drawn on one side of the canvas, the princess exclaimed with sparkling eyes. I handed the crayon back to her, patting her head as if to affirm her answer, and she started drawing lines under the chubby cat.

“Shall we draw something below the chubby cat? How about… a cake you like?”

“A cake?”

“Yes, a cake. How about drawing a sweet fruit-topped cream cake?”

After pondering for a moment, the princess decisively drew lines on the canvas with the crayon. She drew a black triangle and then covered it with a grayish-white color.

When she added a tempting strawberry in red on top of the cream depicted on the cake, a slice of cream cake was completed beneath the cat. I praised her, patting her head affectionately.

“So, the princess likes strawberry cake?”

“Yes! And not just cake, I also like egg tarts!”

The princess, holding a brown crayon in one hand, began to swiftly draw an egg tart on the canvas. With brown for the tart and yellow for the egg, she quickly colored the canvas.

In no time, the right side of the canvas was filled with her drawing. Now, without needing to be told, the princess filled the blank white canvas by drawing things she liked.

She drew green grass, then added red, yellow, and purple flowers. The sky was depicted in blue, and floating clouds in white. In a flash, a child’s landscape painting was complete.

However…

There were no people in the princess’s drawing.

Pointing to the empty space, I asked the princess, “Wouldn’t it be nice if you were here too?”

“Um…”

After a moment of contemplation with a puzzled expression, as if resigned, the princess began to draw herself in the center of the canvas. She adorned herself with a red ribbon in her hair and a blue dress.

In no time, a chubby cat and snacks floated above the canvas, and a picture of the princess standing in a flower garden was completed. As the picture reached the level of a six-year-old’s work, I couldn’t help but smile.

To avoid being caught by the princess, I covered my mouth with the back of my hand and chuckled. Meanwhile, the princess began to draw another person next to herself in the canvas.

A woman taller than the princess with blonde hair.

I quickly understood who the princess was drawing.

“Is this me, by any chance?”

“Yes, it’s Queen Mother.”

Thinking she had drawn well even by her own standards, the princess confidently straightened her shoulders and puffed out her chest on my lap. Indeed, she had captured the features well. But there was an issue with the green eyes…

“Why do I look angry?”

“But, Queen Mother, your gaze is quite fierce.”

“…”

Looking at the sharp green irises drawn with precise lines, I was at a loss for words. Despite trying to soften the gaze, the sharpness felt through my fingertips left me no choice but to accept the princess’s drawing.

Feeling a strange sense of melancholy, the princess sighed softly as she continued to draw me, not stopping but starting to sketch another figure. A small figure nestled between my sharp-eyed self and the princess’s round-eyed depiction. Seeing the fair-haired, green-eyed figure, I could immediately tell who it was. Such details based solely on hair and eye color… Perhaps the princess has talent in drawing after all?

I ruffled the princess’s hair and pointed at the small figure she had drawn. “Is this Einsel?”

“Yes! That’s right! It’s just pitiful if he only stays in the mirror all the time…”

-Your Highness..! This drawing must be preserved forever!

Einsel, looking down at the princess’s drawing, choked up with emotion.

The large canvas was now filled with the princess’s drawings. Setting down her crayons, she lifted the large sheet with both hands, wearing a satisfied smile as if acknowledging her own skill.

A picture of me, the princess, and Einsel standing in a flower garden. Looking at the drawing, I felt a mix of overwhelming emotions and a tinge of sadness. I had certainly suggested to the princess to draw ‘favorites’ and ‘the king and the first queen’, but nowhere in her drawing were their figures to be found.

I pondered asking the princess why she hadn’t drawn them, but I held my tongue. I decided to be content with the fact that Einsel and I were part of the princess’s ‘favorites’.

“Princess, what do you think about having an art teacher?” I asked, considering getting a professional since the princess seemed to enjoy drawing like the king.

Although I regretted it, I didn’t want to force her if the princess wasn’t interested. Even without drawing, the princess undoubtedly excelled in other things.

‘Except for dancing.’

And what if she didn’t have any talent? Even without talent, being a princess posed no hindrance to living. My wish is simply for her to live happily, like in a game, for a long, long time, regardless of whether she has talent or not.

I gazed at the painting the princess had put up and asked her, “…I’m planning to send this painting to Father now. Will that be okay?”

“Yes, I want to show it to Abamama and Umamama,” she replied.

The princess nodded slightly and raised the painting high into the sky.

“I want to show how I am doing.”

Her voice began to tremble.

“Surely… you will worry about me. So…”

The trembling in her voice spread through her shoulders and chest.

Soon, the princess, who had set the painting down on the desk, began to shed tears and wipe her eyes with her hands.

Her sniffles quickly turned into sobs.

The princess, sitting on my knees, buried her head in my chest. Whether she didn’t want to show her crying face to me or if there was no one else for her to lean on, I couldn’t tell.

I gently patted the princess’s back and pulled her into an embrace. Each time I patted her back, she cried more deeply into my embrace.

Being young doesn’t mean being oblivious. Rather, at a young age, one becomes instinctively aware of their situation and acts according to their surroundings.

The princess must have instinctively noticed.

That the king and the first queen had no concern for her.

In fact, that she wasn’t receiving love from her parents.

Even if she claimed she hadn’t received it, she couldn’t give up on that love.

I calmly stroked the princess’s back, waiting for her to stop crying from exhaustion. Eventually, after crying for over an hour, the princess weakly fell asleep in my arms.

Confirming the princess had fallen asleep, I approached Bangsyo, who was standing outside the door holding the princess’s drawn picture.

He had come to check on her studies, but seeing the princess crying in my arms, he stood outside not knowing what to do.

“Bangsyo.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“When you bring the paint to His Majesty today, include the princess’s drawing as well.”

“…I will do so.”

Handing the drawing to Bangsyo, I carried the princess to her room, thinking, ‘Please, I hope someone feels something when they see this drawing.’

However, did I ask for too much?

The next day, I regretted today’s class so much that it drove me crazy. To the point where it’s hard to forgive myself.

*

The next morning.

Upon hearing Bangsyo’s words about the painting being brought into the room, I headed towards the room the king had vacated with a mixture of anticipation and worry. Still, with a hope that perhaps there might be some change in the king. Walking with half expectation and half concern, I found myself near the secluded room where the king had stayed. Just as I turned the corner of the corridor, I heard commotion in this usually quiet place.

Could it be real?

Had the king who had occupied the corner room finally seen the error of his ways upon seeing the princess’s painting? With such thoughts in mind, I cautiously peeked around the corner. As I did, my heart sank all of a sudden.

The two knights who always guarded the front of the room the king had vacated were on the floor, looking at the princess, not knowing what to do. I approached them to confirm what I had seen. One of the knights, upon noticing me approaching, looked flustered and began to make excuses.

“Your Majesty, we, we were just… trying to console the princess…”

Ignoring the knight’s excuses, I approached the princess. She was sitting on the floor, diligently picking something up. The princess, gathering colorful pieces in her palm, stared blankly at them. I felt nauseous. No matter what, it seemed excessive.

Even if one lacks interest in their own child.

This is just too much.

“Princess…”

I called out to her, but there was no response. The princess started organizing the colorful pieces on the floor as if solving a puzzle. One by one, she was trying to restore something precious back to its original state.

However, the meticulously torn scraps of paper seemed too difficult to piece together any longer. After comparing the pieces several times, the princess eventually looked up at me.

She forced a smile.

“Your Majesty… I’m sorry… It seems that Abamama didn’t please you… I should have drawn better…”

“……”

As I looked at it, I realized that I could still recognize the cat Queen Mother had drawn. If I just piece together the torn parts…

The princess’s forced smile made my breath catch in my throat. My chest felt tight, as if it might burst into flames any moment.

I never imagined that the author, who was supposed to be her parent, would stoop so low.

I thought it would end at the point of abandonment if there was no interest.

But the reality I faced was far more cruel and brutal than I had ever imagined. The princess’s drawing was torn to the point of being unrecognizable.

“I will send all the drawings to Her Majesty. Since Her Majesty enjoys drawing, she will surely appreciate the princess’s work as well, won’t she?”

What have I done?

Was it because of my unreasonable expectations from the king that I left the princess with indelible wounds?

To me, it was just an unreasonable expectation, but to the princess, wasn’t it her last hope for the king?

As I felt myself endlessly sinking, the princess tugged at my sleeve as if to say, “Look here.”

When I lowered my head to see where the princess was pointing, I saw that the torn pieces of the picture were fitting together like a puzzle, albeit just slightly.

The princess pointed to the picture we were both holding on the ground.

At that moment, I heard something snap inside me.