Chapter 120: Ten Years Ago (2)
“……”
“……It wasn’t on purpose.”
“Whether it was or not doesn’t really seem to be the issue here, though.”
It would’ve been speculation to say there was contempt in Astrid’s gaze.
But truly, the one more flustered by the situation was Leopold.
“Ah, I hadn’t finished my story. Keep listening.”
“I’m listening.”
Call it an excuse if you must, but it genuinely hadn’t been intentional.
He had simply stepped forward to follow her—and it just so happened that her dress hem had been right there.
And Astrid, unaware of this, kept walking forward.
As a result, with a long ripping sound—
“My g-goodness…”
Ten-year-old little Astrid couldn’t grasp the situation for a moment.
She felt the fabric slip down her body, noticed the strange stares from the surrounding nobles, and saw the startled maids rushing to shield her. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.
But faster than all of that was Astrid’s own reaction.
She snatched up the fallen hem of her dress and quickly covered herself.
Her undergarments, already revealed for all to see, stood exposed atop the stage—visible to every eye in the room—but she had to cover herself somehow.
Though she still had the uniform figure of a child, she was ten—old enough to feel shame, old enough to understand things.
Astrid’s mind quickly filled with rage.
Moments ago, she had felt a flutter of anticipation for the engagement announcement—but now that girlish excitement turned into shame, and that shame rapidly twisted into fury.
She pulled the front of the dress up to cover herself and turned sharply.
Leopold, standing in front of her, appeared to be smiling.
It couldn't be—but in that moment, Astrid felt certain that Leopold had done it on purpose.
It seemed like he was enjoying her embarrassment—and that made her absolutely furious.
She was angry.
And there was only one action she could take in response.
If she received a favor, she would return it tenfold.
If she received a grudge, she would repay it a hundredfold.
Astrid’s tiny fist clenched tightly.
She stepped forward with force—so hard that a crack split through the stage beneath her.
Her waist twisted ever so slightly, building rotational power, and that force gathered into her shoulder as she wound her punch with full momentum.
As the motion released, her fist shot forward in a straight line—toward its intended target.
—Smack!
It all happened in an instant.
Leopold von Einthafen, son of Emperor Kreutz von Einthafen and crown prince of the empire, took a full punch to his left cheek from Astrid—and, taking the full force of the blow, his feet left the floor and he was sent flying off the stage.
—Crash!
With a tremendous boom, like a bomb had dropped, Leopold was slammed into one corner of the banquet hall.
The crash was followed by the sound of scattering debris and a plume of dust erupting into the air.
“Leopold!”
“Your Highness!”
“Your Highness!”
Only then did the others finally understand what had happened.
“A-Astrid! What in the world have you done?!”
Wolfgang’s face had gone pale.
Astrid wasn’t just any girl—she bore the blessings of Divine Power and Divine Arms, and she had already set foot on the battlefield.
And the boy she had struck with zero restraint, as if intending to kill, was no ordinary child—but the Crown Prince of the Einthafen Empire.
As Leopold crashed to the far side of the hall, panic briefly swept through the crowd before the Imperial Guards moved in swiftly, surrounding Wolfgang and Astrid with their spears pointed.
It was an unmistakable coup.
Such an act could easily be interpreted as treason against the Crown Prince.
Responding to Astrid—and by extension, her father Wolfgang—in this way was an appropriate reaction.
As the dust cloud settled and the hall slowly returned to clarity—
Leopold, who had been slammed into the wall, was being pulled out and receiving emergency treatment. Thankfully, though he appeared unconscious, there seemed to be no immediate threat to his life.
“Lower your weapons. Leopold was the one who erred first.”
Emperor Kreutz raised his hand after confirming Leopold’s condition.
But even with the emperor’s command, the guards didn’t lower their weapons easily.
And understandably so—what Astrid had done was nothing short of a crime against the royal family.
Even if she were the daughter of a founding hero, even if she were a duke’s heir, striking the Crown Prince across the face in such a manner was unprecedented. Not even the emperor’s word could immediately calm that chaos.
“I said it’s fine. Lower your weapons and withdraw. How is Leopold?”
“F-Father…”
It wasn’t a court official who responded to Kreutz’s question.
Leopold, who had seemed unconscious, staggered to his feet. Blood flowed from his nose, and his lips were smeared with crimson—likely from a split lip.
“Leopold. Are you alright?”
As a father, Kreutz wanted nothing more than to rush to his beloved son.
But he could not.
Before he was a father, he was the emperor—and Leopold was not just his son, but the Crown Prince.
He couldn’t afford to act impulsively.
Especially not in the presence of the empire’s full assembly of high-ranking officials.
So Kreutz didn’t move from the dais.
“…Yes, Father. I-I’m alright…”
But he didn’t look alright.
Leopold struggled to lift himself, barely managing to stand, and waved away the attendants trying to stop him.
“Please… forgive Astrid. I was the one who… acted improperly first…”
“Hmph.”
Truthfully, that had been Kreutz’s intention from the start.
Leopold had been in the wrong—and had certainly committed a major offense.
But to forgive immediately would set a precedent, so Kreutz had been thinking carefully about how to handle it.
“Are you truly okay with this?”
Leopold’s face was covered in blood.
He spoke with a lisp, as if a tooth had been knocked out.
“Please… forgive Astrid…”
And with those words, Leopold’s eyes slowly closed.
That was the end.
Leopold’s memory ended there.
By the time he opened his eyes again, three days had passed. The banquet had long since ended, and Astrid, along with Wolfgang, had already left—at the emperor’s command.
‘…So that’s why the diary…’
Astrid recalled the diary page that was etched into her memory.
Considering what had happened to her… it made sense.
Even if she was only ten, a child that age still understood emotions like shame.
After experiencing something like that, it was reasonable to lose control out of fury.
“So, after that, Your Highness… didn’t really, um…”
“Didn’t really…?”
How should she phrase this?
It felt too blunt to directly ask, What exactly did you do to make Astrid fall for you so hard she couldn’t live without you?
“…You did feel sorry for Astie, right?”
At Astrid’s question, Leopold scratched his cheek and looked away from her gaze.
“Well… yeah. Of course I did. I couldn’t help but feel sorry.”
“Of course. I mean, all she did was punch you once—she’s really kind.”
“Y-yeah, she is…”
Leopold laughed awkwardly, still scratching his cheek.
It was already night.
And not just evening—well past dinner time.
It was early winter, and the sun had set quickly. Outside the small window, barely twice the size of Astrid’s face, it was already pitch dark.
It was said that waking from this dream was simple.
If she, Astrid herself, truly wished to awaken—or made up her mind to return—then it would happen. But… not yet.
Not yet. She still wanted to remain here a bit longer.
Besides, she had a feeling that this time she had to monopolize Leopold wouldn’t last much longer.
“Um, would you…”
She had been about to ask if he wanted anything to eat, but Astrid shut her mouth.
There was no way Leopold would know what food existed here. Even if she asked him what he wanted to eat, he wouldn’t have an answer.
“…Would you like some meat?”
If she were alone, she would have just bought a salad.
She had always liked salads.
But Leopold wasn’t the type to enjoy salads.
There’s a thing called back cuts—not an official name for a cut, but rather a term for the leftover parts of pork like belly, loin, or neck meat after the premium cuts are taken. They’re unevenly shaped and usually thicker.
“If you overcook it, it won’t taste good. It’s done now, so eat it.”
“Even if it’s not fully cooked, I can eat it?”
Inside the pub, the atmosphere had turned a little odd with the sudden appearance of what seemed like foreigners.
A silver-haired girl of stunning beauty, and a golden-haired, blue-eyed boy—the textbook image of foreigners.
And both of them were dressed in worn blue training suits, the kind where the knees stuck out—an unusual sight.
“I said you can eat it.”
On top of that, they both spoke fluent Korean.
Who were these two, really?
“Aww, like this. Here, ah—”
Astrid took a lettuce leaf, added a perilla leaf on top, then a thick slice of meat, a bit of ssamjang, a clove of garlic, and a slice of pepper.
She wrapped it into a bundle just a little smaller than her fist and held it out to Leopold.
“U-umph.”
It was a bit big, but still, Leopold took the wrap and ate it.
It was his first time trying food in that form, but the taste wasn’t bad at all.
“Astie.”
“Yes?”
Astrid was in the middle of preparing her own wrap when Leopold called out to her, and she looked up.
“…That meat dish… especially that sauce.”
“You mean ssamjang?”
“Yes, that one. That… you know how to make it?”
“I do.”
“Perfect.”
Leopold found this world—Astrid’s original world—truly fascinating.
To think that, without magic or mana, humans could create such things using only their scientific knowledge—it was amazing.
He fully intended to learn as much from this world as possible.
That was also why he didn’t rush Astrid to return.
“Here, a drink for you, Your Highness.”
A small glass was filled with clear liquid.
A glass placed before Leopold.
A glass placed before Astrid.
The soju, now poured into both glasses, clinked softly with a clear ring—ching—and the two of them emptied their glasses with a light sipping sound.