Seven years had passed since the night the Reaper visited Castle Drakheart.
The kingdom had long forgotten the mysterious explosion that never officially "happened." But one person hadn't. Ryu Drakheart, the Fourth Prince, remembered every bone-chilling second, though the curse had since replaced Death as his primary concern.
On the outside, he was the very picture of an angelic child: black hair that gleamed under the sun, a heart-shaped face with a smile that could melt any maid's heart, and the natural grace of royalty.
On the inside? He was still Qjiro Konoke—a shameless, dirty-minded playboy trapped in the body of a seven-year-old.
Life in the palace was paradise for a boy like him. The royal estate was a treasure trove of trouble. He snuck into the royal wine cellar, sampling the forbidden bottles like a mini-connoisseur. He flirted with the young maids, blowing kisses and calling them "goddess" or "my future bride." He even stole ladies' garments purely for the thrill of watching the poor maids panic. Every day was a naughty adventure in his little kingdom.
That paradise ended whenever his mother caught him.
"Ryu!" Queen Qurika's voice thundered through the hall one evening.
The boy froze mid-step, his hand just inches from the women's bathhouse door.
"W-What? I wasn't doing anything!" he said, standing stiff as a board. The slightest flinch of genuine fear for his mother's disappointment would trigger the curse, so he kept his spine ramrod straight.
Her eyes narrowed. "Were you… spying on the baths again?"
He raised a finger to point dramatically at the ceiling. "Of course not, Mother! I was… um… guarding the kingdom from bathhouse thieves! A very serious, adult prince job."
Her glare could have frozen a dragon mid-flight. "You're helping the maids all day tomorrow. No excuses."
The next morning, the royal prince found himself reduced to manual labor. He lugged baskets of laundry heavier than his entire body. He polished silverware until he could see his own miserable reflection. He scrubbed the marble floor until his soft little hands were sore.
Ryu's thoughts: I'm the Fourth Prince! I should be playing with swords, eating cake, and being fanned by maids… not washing socks! This is a violation of the Reincarnated Protagonist Code of Conduct!
But Ryu, despite his naughty nature, followed her orders. He had learned that defiance brought punishment, and genuine maternal concern for his discomfort brought physical agony. He worked, albeit while gritting his teeth, in a selfish attempt to avoid further unwanted affection.
Around noon, his life changed again.
He was carrying a basket of freshly folded linens through the long palace corridor when he saw her.
A girl.
She was tall—at least for his seven years—and carried herself with the deadly elegance of a predator. Her long, dark blue hair cascaded like silk to her waist. She wore a fitted Chinese-style royal outfit, dark with embroidered golden dragons and soft lilies. Every step she took echoed authority.
She wasn't just walking. She was gliding, like the palace itself bowed to her presence.
Time slowed. Ryu's little heart hammered against his chest. It was love at first sight… or, more accurately, lust at first sight, in a pint-sized package.
He puffed out his chest, balancing the basket on his head, and walked toward her with the confidence of a man who had been rejected a thousand times and still believed in miracles.
"Do you have a name, beautiful?" he said, his little voice dripping with fake charm. "Or should I just call you… mine?"
The girl stopped.
Slowly, she turned her head toward him. Her eyes—cold, sharp, and glimmering like icy sapphires—locked onto his. They held no judgment, no maternal warmth, and absolutely no affection—only the calm precision of a hunting knife.
"…Do you want me to break all your bones?" she asked flatly, her voice devoid of inflection.
Ryu blinked, his confidence faltering for the first time in seven years.
Before he could speak, she tilted her head and added, "Or should I start with… that?"
His soul froze. He couldn't tell if she meant his neck… or something far more personal.
Then, without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked away.
Her long blue hair swayed like the tail of a dragon, a final insult to his pride.
Ryu, relieved of the basket, clutched his chest dramatically and staggered against the wall.
"W-What… what just happened to my heart…?" he whispered to himself.
She had rejected him instantly. And yet, he had never been more captivated in his life.
Ryu's thoughts: Who… was that goddess? And why do I feel like… my heart just signed a death warrant?
Wait.
She was absolutely cold. Zero affection. Zero concern. Zero maternal instinct.
And the curse didn't even twitch.
A villainous smile spread across the little prince's face.
Ryu's thoughts: I've found my safe harbor. That girl—who looks like she could kill me with a fork—is the only human I can stand to be near!
To Be Continued…