: Competition

I opened the letter and read it.

"Dear Lady Csille Lauretré,

You are cordially invited to participate in the forthcoming Royal Competition of the Arts of the Aeslaerean Kingdom. The competition encompasses various categories including poetry, painting, dancing, tea ceremony, flower arrangement, cross-stitching, strategic games, archery, and equestrian events. Additionally, there will be a knowledge assessment tailored to your age group. Etiquette will also factor into the scoring criteria. The event is scheduled to take place in the Aeslaerean Kingdom one month after the onset of winter.

   We eagerly anticipate your participation. Kindly inform us of your intention to attend, allowing us to make necessary arrangements for your arrival. Wishing you a splendid day!

   The Royal Competition of the Arts brings back a significant memory from the novel. It's a turning point for Princess Paislee, leading to her decision to escape Aeslaerean. At the competition, a Prince from a smaller kingdom falls deeply in love with Paislee, impressed by her talents across all categories.

Knowing this, King Thoumassin set a marriage agreement between Princess Paislee and the said Prince. Prompting Princess Paislee to runaway from her homeland. This decision ultimately leads her to encounter the crown prince, shaping the rest of their story.

   "Why are they having it now, when it's supposed to happen five years from now? Is it an annual event?" I tried to remember if I had mentioned it being an annual occurrence, but I couldn't recall. "I'll probably discuss it with my parents tomorrow."

   I set the letter aside and completed drying my hair before drifting off to sleep, hoping for a better day tomorrow.

____________

"Mother, do you think I should attend the Royal Competition?" I inquired during breakfast.

My mother glanced at my father first. Father paused his meal and looked at me. "Is that something you truly want to do?"

   My head nodded involuntarily. Hey! I haven't even decided if I really want to go. That's not fair! Why won't this body let me take full control?

  "I'm still not comfortable with the idea of you going to the Aeslaerean Kingdom. Aeslaerean and Vrawyth have been at war for years. Despite the peace treaty, I'm hesitant to let my only daughter set foot in their Kingdom."

I nod in understanding. I grasp why the Count feels that way. The peace between Aeslaerean and Vrawyth reliant on the treaty. Given its recent nature, there's a risk it could be broken.

   "But isn't it a great opportunity for the Aeslaerean Kingdom to demonstrate their sincerity with the treaty? Remember, the Royal Competition of the Arts was originally an Aeslaerean tradition. It is only offered and celebrated by the people of Aeslaerean. I doubt they would jeopardize their relationship with many noble families by acting against Vrawyth. The other Kingdoms would surely oppose such actions, given how much they value their noble families." My mother's perspective makes sense.

Additionally, I haven't written anything about a war between Aeslaerean and Vrawyth at this time.

    My father glanced at my mother and me, let out a sigh, and then finished his meal. "Let's discuss this another time. The King has also brought it up, expressing his concern since many children from noble families were invited. It's best to make a decision after I've spoken with him. Besides, the Royal Competition is still two months away, giving us plenty of time to think it over."

   My father then said his farewells, giving us both a kiss before leaving. My mother gently patted my head and smiled. "Your father is correct. Let's discuss it further once we've spoken with the King. In the meantime, if you're truly keen on participating, it might be wise to begin preparing. Would you like me to arrange for tutors to assist you?"

   I nodded in response to my mother. The upcoming months were bound to be busy for me. In addition to the training sessions, I'd also have to manage my homeschooling.

In our kingdom, it's customary for nobles to receive homeschooling during primary school years. Only after primary school can they attend formal institutions, most of which are boarding schools for high school. Students typically return home after each semester.

___________

  "Do you really plan to join that competition?" Rufus asked. It had been a week since I received the invitation from the Aeslaerean Kingdom, and during that time, I'd been diligently practicing my flower arrangement skills. So far, I'd seen noticeable improvement in my abilities.

   I glance at Rufus. "Certainly. Why do you ask?" I ask as I cut a Camellia flower.

Rufus takes the Camellia from my hand. "Seriously? How long have you been practicing flower arrangement?"

  "It's been a week now. Why?" I narrow my eyes at him, sensing his intention. "You better watch your words, Rufus. I warn you-"

Rufus raises both his hands and interrupts me. "Alright, alright. I won't say it."

   "Good." I continue arranging the flowers to my liking. Rufus begins to circle around me, inspecting my work like he's examining an ancient artifact in a museum.

"Your flower arrangement is still a mess. I doubt you'll even make it past the preliminary rounds with that," he remarks with a disapproving shake of his head.

    I pause my task and give him a light kick on the leg. "I warned you to watch your words. And what's with your constant presence here? Don't you have anything else to do? I'm getting tired of seeing your face every day."

Rufus dramatically clutches his chest, feigning injury. "Oh, Csille, why are you so heartless? Your words wound me deeply," he exclaims as he slumped on the floor.

   I shake my head at his theatrics. Rufus can be so unpredictable. At times, he displays maturity beyond his years, yet other times, he reverts to behaving like a nine-year-old child, despite being older than Csille.

"Come on, get up. I don't need people thinking I'm bullying you, Your Highness, Prince Rufus."

    After hearing my remark, he promptly stand up and points his finger at me. "How many times have I told you to stop calling me Prince Rufus? And please, drop the 'your highness' act. I am not Prince Fraser."

I swat his finger away and roll my eyes, choosing to continue arranging my flowers while ignoring his antics.

"Rufus, aren't you busy?"

He points to himself. "Busy? What could I possibly be busy with? You know I still can't go back to the dormitory, right?"

"So, I'm the one you always bother, is that right?"

   "Hey! You're talking like you're not my friend. How could you say that to your friend? I visit you because I'm worried about your training. Look at you. Look at how you arrange the flowers. You still have a lot to learn."

   I set down the flowers I'm working with. "How can I concentrate on honing my flower arranging skills if you keep teasing me? Should I ask my father to ban you from our house temporarily?" I pretend to ponder for a moment.

   "Hey! That's unfair. I'm just speaking the truth. You still need to improve. Plus, I'm here to help you with other things. I could assist you with strategic games, archery, and even equestrian. Don't forget, I'm the best at it."

   "Fine, fine. You can help, but can you give me some space first? I need to focus on these flower arrangements. You can go find someone else to chat with."

   Rufus pouts at me before reluctantly leaving the garden. I prefer making flower arrangements outside in our garden rather than inside the house. It's easier to find the flowers I want, and I enjoy the fresh air while I work.

   After a few minutes, I've finished arranging the flowers, and I'm quite pleased with how they look. Among all the categories in the Royal Competition, flower arrangement is one of my weaknesses, so I decided to focus on it first.

In the real world, I didn't have much time to indulge in such activities, as I was always struggling to make a living. How could I even afford a flower arranging class? I've heard they can be quite pricey.

   As a strong wind blew, the red tulips I had arranged got scattered. Picking them, I couldn't help but recall the moment in the Palace Garden when Prince Fraser gave me a red tulip.

Looking up at the sky, I offered a prayer. "Prince Fraser, please be safe. You need to be safe."

__________

   Later that evening, my father called a family meeting to discuss the Royal Competition. The King had given his approval for noble children to represent the Kingdom of Vrawyth in the competition.

Recognizing that our participation would not only reflect on our noble lineage but also on the Kingdom itself, the King announced additional benefits for all noble children participating in the event.

"Since the King has approved your participation, I'll allow you to represent the Lauretré family. However, you must remain cautious. I'll arrange for guards and maids to accompany you to ensure your safety. Your mother and I want you to be well-protected," my father assured me.

   Waltier Lauretré, the devoted father of Csille Lauretré. In the first version of the novel, when Csille committed an act detrimental to the Kingdom of Vrawyth, both the Count and Countess pleaded with His Majesty to spare Csille. They even offered their lives and all the assets of the Lauretré family. Ultimately, the Count and Countess were stripped of their titles and forced to live as commoners, with all their assets seized.

    I wrote those stories before to signify how parents would do something for their children. It's really heartwarming to experience it in real life. Even if I'm not the real Csille and they are not my birth parents, I am still happy. I did not even think that I would experience it since I was an orphan in the real world.

    "By the way, how is your training going? I heard from your teacher that your flower arrangement is improving. Good job." My father pats my head with an expression of genuine pride, as though Csille's progress in her training is a significant accomplishment.

  I smiled at him. "It was great. I've learned a lot of things this week. I could already arrange flowers properly. In fact," I dashed to my room and retrieved the bouquet I made today. Returning to my parents, I presented it to them. "My teacher said it's really well-done. So, I thought it would be nice to give it to you, Father, Mother."

   My mother cried and hugged me tightly. My father took the flowers and studied them closely. Then, he burst into laughter—the kind that comes from achieving something extraordinary. "I'll show this to my colleagues. They'll surely envy me for having a daughter as talented as you," he chuckled again.

   I break from my mother's hugs and hold my father's arm. "Father! That isn't very pleasant. It's not that great. You're subordinate might not like it."

   My father touches my head and gently messed it. "Who dares not to like this? It's made by the Count's daughter, my Csille, who's very charming and adorable. They will probably be jealous because I have a beautiful daughter like you. And not just that, you're also talented. So who would dare to disagree with me?"

   My mother simply shakes her head. "No one would dare. Let me take care of this. I'll set it aside for now. Didn't you also have another announcement to make? That's why his majesty spoke to you, isn't it?"

   My father let my mother takes the flowers. Then, he settles onto the sofa and motions for me to sit beside him. "It's about Crown Prince Fraser."

"What's wrong, father? Has something happened to him?" I ask. To my knowledge, the crown prince's life shouldn't be in danger until he turns fourteen. So what could have occurred to prompt his majesty to summon the Count?

My father shakes his head. "Nothing has happened yet. The King just suspects that something significant might occur involving the Crown Prince. As a precaution, he's ordered a troupe to guard Prince Fraser in the western region."

"Wouldn't that reveal the Prince's location? And if someone is indeed targeting him, wouldn't it confirm that the Crown Prince is in the western region?"

   My father sighs. "That's why the King wanted to speak with me. Instead of sending a troop, he assigned me to guard the prince. However, I won't go as the Count of Vrawyth, but as a merchant. I'll pretend to have contracted a contagious disease and need to be isolated outside the city. But instead of going to the city, I'll sneak around and disguise myself as a traveling merchant heading to the western region."

   Both my mother and I shared a moment of silence, understanding the implications of the absence of the head of the Lauretré family. It hinted at forthcoming changes within the noble hierarchy.