More than ten years ago, there was a certain kind of event that every noble family knew about — a gathering meant especially for noble children. These were not just parties. They were a place for young nobles to meet each other, talk, and hopefully make friends.
The parents would usually leave their children together while they mingled with other adults, expecting their kids to build connections that might help the family in the future. These gatherings were almost always hosted by the royal family — either in the royal palace's grand kindergarten hall, in one of the outer reception rooms, or sometimes in another royal residence. Most of the time, the host was Princess Ingrassia herself or one of her close friends.
Not attending such a gathering without a very good reason was seen as an insult to the royal family. And for the nobles, attending wasn't just about courtesy — it was a chance to plant seeds for future relationships. If their children got along with other noble children, the parents could later use that bond to create alliances, strike deals, or gain influence. It was a kind of long-term investment.
Sometimes, a lower-ranking noble family would manage to befriend a high-ranking family through their children. That could open doors to many benefits — better trade, invitations to exclusive events, or even political support.
But those lucky cases were rare. Most of the time, lower and middle-ranking noble kids were treated like background characters. They were expected to flatter higher-ranking noble children, follow them around like loyal pets, and laugh at their jokes — even if they were silly or plain stupid.
On this particular day, the gathering was being hosted by Princess Ingrassia. Among the many finely dressed noble children running around and chatting, there was one who stood apart from the crowd.
In the far corner of the hall, away from the noise and excitement, sat a little girl with short dark-blue hair that fell over her forehead and hid her eyes. She had a quiet, withdrawn air about her, almost like she was trying to disappear into the background. In her small hands, she held a worn, sluggish-looking rabbit doll, its fabric slightly frayed from being hugged too much.
This girl was none other than Irish Heartfelia — a low-mid ranking noble. But right now, she was just a tiny six or seven-year-old, her delicate frame making her look even smaller as she sat alone.
Behind the curtain of hair, her blue eyes peeked out, watching the other children play and talk. They laughed easily, forming little circles of friendship. But Irish just sat there, her lips pressed together, her shoulders slightly hunched.
It wasn't that she didn't want to join them. She wanted to talk… she wanted to make friends. But the words always stuck in her throat. She was terrible at talking to people, and whenever she tried, she would stutter so much that her cheeks would burn with embarrassment. Later, people would remember her as "the girl who couldn't even speak properly at the age of seven."
But right now, she had something else weighing on her mind.
"Mother and Father said I have to make at least one mid or high-ranking noble friend… no matter what…" she thought, her small fingers tightening around the rabbit doll. "If I don't… I'll get scolded again…"
Irish looked at a particular boy with blonde hair and bright green eyes who was chatting casually with Princess Ingrassia. He was Oz Zongwill, the son of the Duchess of Florida, Melissa Zongwill. His face seemed friendly, and he carried himself with an easy charm that made him approachable.
Irish swallowed hard, summoning all the courage she had. Her small hands tightened around her worn rabbit doll as she decided to walk toward him.
Her tiny footsteps carried her slowly across the polished floor. But when she got closer, she realized there were many other children around—because Oz was not the only center of attention; Princess Ingrassia herself was there.
As Irish reached them, the chatter died down. Everyone's eyes shifted to her. Princess Ingrassia, with her shining golden twin-tail hair and glittering golden eyes, looked at her with a smug smile.
"My, my… isn't this our Irish? Coming out of your little corner to talk to people? Has the sun risen from the West today?" The princess's tone dripped with mockery.
A few children chuckled, others smirked, but Irish tried to ignore it. She turned toward Oz, wanting to speak, but her mouth felt dry and heavy.
"Umm… I…!" she tried to say, but the words barely came out.
Before she could continue, Ingrassia's voice cut in sharply. "You came to talk to Oz? Don't tell me… you have a crush on him?"
"What? No way! She probably just wants to ask something," Oz said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.
But the princess ignored him completely and clapped her hands. "Propose to him, Irish! Go on, propose!"
Her words were like a command, and the other noble kids joined in instantly, chanting like they were following their leader.
"Propose him!"
"Propose him!"
"Propose him!"
Irish's legs shook, and her small fingers crushed her rabbit doll against her chest. Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely think.
"No… I only came to make friends…" she thought desperately. She opened her mouth to explain, but her voice broke and stuttered again.
She instinctively took a step back, deciding to leave. "I came at the wrong time… I'll try later…" she told herself.
But as she stepped back, she bumped into another girl who was holding a glass of orange juice. The glass tipped, and the juice spilled straight onto Princess Ingrassia's legs.
The room fell into total silence. Eyes widened. Irish's trembling worsened until she could barely breathe. She wanted to speak, to explain, but her voice wouldn't come out.
Princess Ingrassia's face twisted in anger. She clenched her fists and glared at Irish.
"You! You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
Irish shook her head quickly, but the princess's next words froze her in place.
"Lick it."
"What…?" Irish whispered, her voice small and confused.
"I said, lick it clean. That's an order," Ingrassia snapped, her voice echoing in the silence.
"I-I didn't m-mean to…" Irish stammered, but the princess stepped closer, her presence heavy with authority.
"Don't make me repeat myself. Or should I strip your parents of their noble status right here and now?" she threatened.
Some children nodded in agreement. One girl smirked and said, "Do it. You spilled juice on royalty. The princess is being generous."
Irish's mind spun in panic. She had only come to make friends and connections like her parents had told her, but now everything—her dignity, her parents' honor—was at risk.
Her knees bent slowly, the weight of the moment crushing her. She looked at the princess's smug, victorious expression, then at the sticky orange juice running down her legs.
Her eyes stung, but she lowered her head, stuck out her tongue, and moved closer and closer.
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Piiiiii…
The sharp, long whistle of the referee echoed through the training grounds, forcing the two girls to stop their duel.
One of them, lying on the ground, was a breathtaking beauty. Her long golden hair shimmered under the sunlight, and her golden eyes still burned with determination despite the loss. She was none other than Princess Ingrassia.
Standing above her, pointing a sword down, was a tall girl with an athletic build. Her short dark blue hair had grown so deep in shade it almost looked black, and even her eyes now carried a dark, piercing hue. Her creamy white skin made her features stand out even more, and a small mole beneath her left eye added a subtle charm that made her look both seductive and boldly tomboyish.
This was Irish.
She didn't say a word. Once her victory was certain, she slid her sword back into its sheath and gave the princess a small, respectful bow before turning to walk away.
Princess Ingrassia could only watch her retreating back, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. "That's the twentieth time in a row I've lost…" she sighed heavily. No matter how much she trained, no matter how many different swords she tried, no matter what strength potions she drank, she could never match Irish's overwhelming skill and power.
A bitter thought crossed her mind. "It must be karma for my past… Ugh, why was I so arrogant and full of myself?"
Every time she remembered who she used to be, her stomach twisted. Back then, she had been blinded by her status and power as a princess, treating others with disdain. Now, as she had matured, she realized how foolish she had been—and that her past self was nothing but an embarrassing memory.
Slowly, she stood up. Her gaze followed Irish's back, now a fair distance away.
"She was one of the people I bullied… I apologized, and she forgave me, but I know it was only because Miss Scarlett was there. In her heart… she probably can't truly forgive me."
Guilt weighed on her chest like a heavy stone, but then she clenched her fists tightly. "The past is the past. I have to focus on getting stronger and making sure I never repeat those mistakes. And when the time comes, I'll marry Aoto or Chiyoko—whoever can protect the world best—and I'll give birth to a strong hero for the next generation… someone who can protect this world when I'm gone."
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Meanwhile, Irish walked out of the arena with calm and confident steps. She looked strong, cool, and full of charm. As soon as she stepped outside, a group of girls quickly surrounded her from all sides.
Most of them were freshers who had just joined the academy, while a few were her classmates. They were all excited, their eyes shining brightly with admiration. They had been watching her duel closely, and now they were eager to talk to her.
"Wow! You were amazing out there again! So cool!" one of the girls said with stars in her eyes.
Before Irish could even respond, another girl stepped forward with a shy smile. "Miss Senior… Are you free this evening? Maybe we can hang out or go somewhere together?"
A third girl, who looked more nervous than the others, spoke with her voice trembling slightly. "I heard a rumor… that you're engaged to our former classmate, Miss Scarlett? That can't be true, right?" Her eyes sparkled like glass, full of hope and fear, as if she would cry if Irish said yes.
These days, Irish had become quite popular around the academy. Aoto had been teaching her how to act more tomboyish—more bold, more cool—and it was working. With her boyish hairstyle and confident clothes, even girls couldn't help but feel drawn to her.
But deep inside, Irish was still an introverted girl. She had always found it hard to talk to people, especially when many eyes were on her. Right now, surrounded by so many girls, she felt her heart racing and her palms turning sweaty.
"Uhh... Ummm…" she mumbled nervously, unable to form any words.
But then she remembered Aoto's advice. "Be tomboyish! Just like brother-in-law said!" she told herself, trying to gather her courage. She took a deep breath and gave herself a little push inside her mind.
Suddenly, she smiled playfully. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and she slowly reached out her hand. With smooth confidence, she placed her fingers under the chin of one of the girls and gently lifted it.
"I'm not someone you can win over that easily, dear~" she said with a teasing grin.
Then, without waiting for their replies, she turned around and walked away gracefully. Her long legs moved with grace, and the air around her seemed to shimmer with charm.
As she disappeared around the corner, all the girls stared in the direction she went. Their eyes turned heart shaped, faces turned red, their hearts fluttered, and one of them finally shouted with excitement,
"Kyaa~! I'm in love!"