Chapter 7
January 11, 761 of the Continental Calendar (Monday).
The day after Queen Elodia’s birthday party.
Solinor woke up at dawn and immediately began exercising Princess Muriela’s body again.
‘Starting today, we’re adding more exercises! Extending the workout time too!’
‘Push-ups! Sit-ups! Lunges! We need to prepare your body if you want to start learning swordsmanship in two weeks!’
Of course, Muriela’s body was still too weak, and most attempts to exercise ended in failure.
But as they say, even a thousand-mile journey begins with one step.
With steady effort, results would surely follow.
Hard work and perseverance were always Solinor’s strong suits.
However, Solinor was unaware of the horrible consequences that would come from intensifying the workout in Muriela’s frail body by that evening.
Maybe his “Ghost Trainer” certification should be revoked.
***
“Ughhh…”
This wasn’t just a strange noise.
It was dinner time.
Muriela was lying face down on the bed, her limbs twitching in a rhythmic dance.
It was the “muscle pain dance.”
She couldn’t go to dinner like this.
But if she didn’t eat, her muscles wouldn’t grow.
If she didn’t eat, her muscle growth schedule would be ruined—wait!
Solinor found himself trapped in a dilemma.
The one who saved his “trainer” credentials was Bianca.
“Princess, you’re in so much pain, aren’t you? I knew this would happen and tried to warn you earlier…”
“Ugh, Bianca… I didn’t even push that hard, but I didn’t expect this…”
Bianca smiled and pulled a side table toward Muriela.
“That’s why I asked the chef to prepare your meal here.”
A large tray was placed on the table.
The dish was covered with a lid, and steam rose from it.
Solinor was impressed by Bianca’s foresight.
‘How thoughtful. She does everything necessary without needing to be told—such a model servant. I feel like giving her a raise.’
Bianca lifted the lid from the silver tray, revealing the dish underneath.
The smell was mouth-watering.
While it was nice to have food brought to her, Muriela would have to sit up to eat it.
With trembling hands, she managed to prop herself up in bed.
As her field of vision rose, she saw the contents of the bowl: a vegetable soup with meat.
There was hardly any grease, meaning the chef had followed Solinor’s dietary guidelines perfectly.
Protein was key for muscle training, after all.
Muriela reached for the spoon Bianca handed her, aiming for the bowl—
“Oops!”
Her hand trembled, and she dropped the spoon.
But the next moment, Bianca caught it with incredible reflexes.
Though, given how often this must have happened, not predicting it would have been more surprising.
Bianca had served as Muriela’s handmaid long enough to be familiar with these incidents.
Muriela had always been frail and often sick, dropping utensils more times than anyone could count.
Bianca could catch them with her eyes closed by now.
But Solinor, who was unaware of this, could only be amazed.
‘Such quick reflexes, and with great foresight too! Bianca could make an excellent bodyguard with the right training.’
His respect for Eldric also grew.
Eldric had placed such a capable person by Muriela’s side, despite his outward indifference.
‘Clearly, he’s more caring than he lets on. What a considerate fellow.’
Thus, Solinor’s misconceptions continued to deepen.
“Princess, it’s too difficult for you to hold the spoon in your current state. Let me feed you. Say ‘ah.’”
Bianca had done this countless times for Muriela before, so it wasn’t a big deal to her.
But Solinor couldn’t bear the thought.
‘I’m practically seventy years old if I had lived—can I really let a young girl who doesn’t even look twenty-five feed me?’
Solinor began to feel ashamed.
But he couldn’t skip meals either; muscles wouldn’t grow without proper nutrition.
He had no choice but to sacrifice a bit of his pride, along with his independence.
In the end, all he had to do was open his mouth.
***
After the humiliating dinner (at least for Solinor), Muriela began walking slowly around the room to aid digestion.
‘The best exercise, as stated in the Watermelon Guide: walking after a meal.’
“Princess, Prince Kaelen has arrived.”
‘What? Kaelen? The mama’s boy grandson who couldn’t attend the birthday party because he got scolded by his mother?’
Not to mention, the clumsy one who couldn’t even master swordsmanship after five years of training.
Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t cute.
Grandchildren were precious regardless of their talent.
But if Solinor had to assess him, Kaelen wouldn’t score very high.
“Let him in.”
***
No sooner had the words left her mouth, the boy entered the room.
Fiery red hair and sharp eyes.
He was much more intense in person than in Muriela’s memories.
“Uh, Kaelen… brother. What brings you here?”
“Muriela! I wasn’t sure if I should believe Kasper, but you’ve really changed!”
Kaelen, like Adeline before him, was deeply moved.
It was his first time hearing Muriela speak in complete sentences.
Solinor quickly revised his assessment of Kaelen.
The boy’s passionate voice and intense gaze, full of sincerity.
A strong will and steadfast spirit were evident in those eyes.
‘This kid is something. Who cares if his swordsmanship is a bit lacking? The future of our kingdom is bright.’
Solinor prided himself on his ability to judge people.
Just by looking into their eyes, he believed he could gauge their character.
At least, in his own mind.
If that ability were measured statistically, what would the result be?
Chances are, it wouldn’t surpass 50%.
In other words, it was basically a coin flip—no better than anyone else’s.
Still, the effect was real.
The strong trust he placed in people motivated them to live up to his expectations.
A self-fulfilling prophecy, much like an Indian rain dance.
Without waiting for Muriela’s response, Kaelen continued speaking.
“I couldn’t attend Queen Elodia’s birthday party yesterday due to being under surveillance. So, I came today just to see you.”
‘Surveillance? Who’s watching a prince, and why?’
“Brother… Thanks for coming to see me.”
“Kasper said you’ve regained your energy and health, and I can see it. Your complexion looks much better.”
“Oh… really? I was pretty weak before. But now, I’m exercising and eating well.”
Hearing that, Kaelen’s face lit up with a broad smile.
‘This kid is incredibly handsome. Of course, he’s my grandson.’
“It’s the first time I’ve heard you speak so clearly, Muriela. It was worth the effort to come see you.”
“By the way, brother, Kasper mentioned you’ve been learning swordsmanship. Could you show me a bit?”
At that, Kaelen’s face darkened.
It looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
Prince Kaelen had a major issue when it came to swordsmanship.
Solinor assumed it was simply due to his clumsiness and embarrassment.
“Did I say something wrong? What’s the matter?”
“No, no, Muriela. You’ve asked me for a favor, so of course I’ll show you something. Can I use the garden?”
“Of course! It’s my request, after all.”
Excited, Solinor sprang up from the bed.
But Muriela’s leg, still recovering from overexertion, gave way, and she stumbled.
Kaelen quickly stepped forward and caught her hand to steady her.
“Muriela, what’s wrong? Are you in pain again?”
Kaelen was worried that Muriela might collapse and fall ill as she used to.
Meanwhile, Solinor raised his evaluation of Kaelen once more.
In truth, it was just a natural and habitual consideration for his frail younger sister.
“No, I just overexerted myself during exercise earlier. I’m fine, so show me your swordsmanship.”
“Ah, okay.”
Kaelen took Muriela by the hand and led her to the garden.
In one corner of the garden, a gardener was quietly humming while trimming branches.
Noticing their presence, the gardener turned, bowed, and greeted them.
“Oh, it’s been a while since Prince Kaelen came. And Princess Muriela, you came out for exercise this morning and now you’re here again.”
“Hello. It hasn’t been that long, just two weeks. Muriela asked me to show her some swordsmanship, so we’re going to use the garden. I promise not to harm any of the flowers.”
“Of course. I’ll go inside then. If you need anything, just call.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
With another polite bow, she stepped away and entered the servant’s quarters with light steps.
Kaelen turned to look at Muriela.
“I’ll show you now. Keep in mind, I’m not very good. I didn’t want to show anyone because I’m embarrassed, but since this is your first request, I can’t refuse.”
‘He can admit to his own shortcomings? That’s really impressive.’
Solinor was inwardly impressed.
In reality, whether a prince was good with a sword or not didn’t matter much.
If nobles or royalty were ever forced into close combat, things had already gone terribly wrong.
However, in Solinor’s eyes, Kaelen was proving to be quite capable.
Admitting one’s weaknesses was no small feat, especially for someone destined to be a leader.
Historically, many had lost kingdoms because they couldn’t do just that.
With Eldric managing the country well, and a prince like Kaelen ready to succeed him, there was little to worry about.
Solinor was beaming with pride.
Kaelen gripped the wooden sword hanging from his belt and stood in the middle of the garden.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and spoke calmly.
“Alright, I’ll begin.”
‘…What? This kid has talent? No, this isn’t just talent—this is overflowing talent! Have the standards for swordsmanship changed in the 40 years since I died?’
Solinor was left puzzled, unsure how to interpret the scene unfolding before him.
—
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