Volume 8, Chapter 4 – The First Wife’s Acknowledgment, and the Pureblood Vampire Princess’s Misfortune

“Huu…”

“Why has Sister been sighing all day?”

Standing several meters away, Fia held a wooden sword. Liti, clutching her staff, tilted her head. As usual, Liti wore a white dress today, her soft lavender hair loose, her rose-colored eyes blinking. It made one’s heart soften at the thought of facing her as an opponent.

As for what they were doing now—Liti, Milu, and Fia were sparring. Fia acted as a training partner while also practicing the numerous first-rank spells she’d recently learned.

“This isn’t something Liti needs to know.”

Fia glanced at Claire, who was smiling kindly at the edge of the training ground. Awkward.

She could hardly tell Liti that she was sighing because her lower back hurt. It felt like it was about to break.

Last night, Claire had been as powerful and relentless as a demon lord. And because being intimate with Fia restored Claire’s mana to its peak, no matter how much mana Claire expended, she could recover it all through Fia. So Claire had wrung her dry like a perpetual motion machine.

Fortunately, Claire’s shyness had lessened in the latter half of the night, and she’d grown gentler. Otherwise, Fia’s condition wouldn’t have stopped at a sore back.

Why can’t nanomachines relieve back pain? Fia found this deeply perplexing.

This incident had made Fia keenly aware that she should learn more practical magic instead of burying herself exclusively in offensive spells. At least in terms of overwhelming technique, she was far inferior to Claire.

As expected of an older sister figure.

“Are you really okay, Sister? If you tell me, maybe I can help. At least offer some advice.”

What kind of “advice” did you want to offer?

That mental image was far too inappropriate.

“Don’t worry about it.” Fia looked toward Anastasia, who stood beside Claire at the edge of the training ground. “Anastasia, we’re ready.”

“Yes. The coin toss will signal the start. If either Her Highness Liti or Lady Euphimilu touches Your Highness, or forces you to use a defensive spell, that counts as Your Highness’s defeat. No magical items are permitted during the match. Prepare—”

As she spoke, Anastasia tossed a silver coin into the air. The perfect parabola traced against the sky. A chime rang out. The battle began with Liti casting enhancement magic on Milu.

A change in strategy?

Previously, their tactics centered on Liti attacking while Milu protected her. Probably because Milu had recently advanced to the fourth rank at the edge of the Land of Exile, they’d altered their approach. Trying to catch her off guard.

Either way, I won’t lose.

Today, I’ll start with nature magic.

[Vines]

Fia snapped her fingers lightly. Cracking sounds emerged from the stone tiles. Dozens of green vines, as thick as Fia’s forearm, burst through the ground. They bypassed Milu and coiled together toward Liti in the rear.

Contrary to Fia’s expectations, Liti dodged and weaved with agility unbefitting a magic chanter. She even used her staff as a pivot to leap into the air, evading the vines. Her movements were so nimble they reminded Fia of Milu.

Probably Claire’s handiwork , Fia speculated. Because of their respective positions, Anastasia couldn’t bear to discipline Liti. But Claire, like a strict mother, had trained Liti’s physique and close-combat skills so she could protect herself in danger. Judging by the results, it had been effective.

But I still have more.

Seeing the vines couldn’t catch Liti, Fia halted them. Their tips aimed at Liti, now breathing lightly.

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[Paralysis Cloud]

Pink buds bloomed at the vines’ ends. The flowers opened, spewing large quantities of pale yellow pollen. This pollen had no lethal effect, but a single inadvertent inhalation would rob the body of strength.

“Magic like this won’t stop me!”

Liti’s cheerful voice rang out. A visible cyan gale swept across the courtyard. The pale yellow pollen spreading toward Liti drifted sideways. But Liti’s move reminded Fia that she could use the same technique to accelerate the pollen’s spread.

[Airflow Control]

A more violent gust howled through the training ground, overwhelming Liti’s cyan wind in an instant. The pale yellow pollen rapidly swirled back toward Liti. Her confident expression crumpled.

“Sister, that’s cheating! That’s not a first-rank spell at all!”

“Isn’t [Airflow Control] a first-rank spell?”

“Since when is there an [Airflow Control] stronger than [Gale Force]?!”

But this is already the weakest version of [Airflow Control]. Any weaker, and I’d have to use the chanted version—which is barely stronger than a gentle breeze and completely useless.

As coughs and complaints echoed from Liti’s position, Milu finally reached Fia. Compared to straightforward magic, Milu’s aerial assault was far more elaborate.

In simple terms: feints concealing a killing blow. Draw my attention with the left sword striking first, while the right short sword gathers comparatively more power. But the real attack is hidden in the right leg. If I hadn’t learned from Davis how to read an opponent’s attacks through their movements, I’d definitely have fallen for it.

That said, even if I had, my exceptional dynamic vision would let me react instantly.

Fia switched her wooden sword to her right hand and reinforced it with a first-rank [Hardening Armor]. She swept the sword diagonally upward from right to left.

The first soft strike naturally couldn’t slow Fia. But when Milu’s right short sword clashed against the wooden blade, the sword snapped—contrary to Milu’s expectations.

The sharp crack made Milu’s vertical pupils dilate. In her plan, there was no way she could actually cut Fia’s sword. She intended to use the momentary resistance to adjust her center of gravity for a kick. So when Fia’s wooden sword broke, her balance immediately faltered.

In her fleeting field of vision, she caught Fia’s smile.

She saw through it.

Like missing a step on the stairs, Milu’s heart skipped a beat. But her competitive spirit refused to accept defeat so easily. Her wing-shaped ears expanded. A silver dragon tail abruptly appeared behind her, accompanied by even more fearsome crimson eyes. The fabric of her back tore as dragon wings emerged.

This was a racial magic called [Beast Transformation]. It drastically enhanced Milu’s physical abilities.

Without hesitation, she kicked at Fia’s chin with her right leg, power concentrated. But in that split second, Milu felt her right ankle caught in a vice. Fia’s strength was like a mountain; Milu could barely twist her foot.

“I win?”

“Ngh.”

Fia held Milu’s right ankle, looking down at her. Suspended upside down, wearing a white skirt, Milu’s face gradually reddened. Her tail curved between her thighs, shielding what lay beneath her hem—though when Milu launched her kick, Fia had already accidentally glimpsed it.

White. Cute design.

What a sin.

Fia cleared her throat softly and used [Spatial Hand] to help Milu stand upright. Only thirty seconds had passed since the match began. Hardly effective training.

“Again.”

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Milu’s cheeks flushed. Her tail swished back and forth. It looked less like defiance and more like sulking.

Fia smiled wryly and patted Milu’s head.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s fine if it’s Fia. But what if someone else saw?”

“There’s only us here. No one else can see.”

“No means no.”

Milu huffed and turned her head away. Her white side-ponytail swung, striking Fia’s chest.

Is this child going through her rebellious phase?

Fia chuckled inwardly and stepped back two paces. As Milu returned to Liti’s side, the battle prepared to begin once more.

◇

As Anastasia tossed the silver coin upward for the second time, Claire approached her side.

Anastasia was naturally aware of Claire’s proximity. She sensed something coming. Her relaxed body tensed. Claire could feel Anastasia’s nervousness. She couldn’t help but find it amusing, deliberately poking her finger into Anastasia’s soft side.

“Eep!” Anastasia’s spine stiffened. A small cry escaped her. Her expression grew even more strained. Her gaze darted evasively, and her head lowered humbly. “Cl… Claire, what are you doing…”

“Haah. Lift your head. It’s not like I’m someone who’s bullied you. Why are you acting so timid?”

“Well…”

You know perfectly well why.

Anastasia’s subconscious whispered this.

Seeing Anastasia reluctant to speak, Claire let out a long sigh. She crossed one arm over her chest and gazed toward the training ground where Fia and the others were still sparring.

“I’ve already heard from Little Fia. She’s accepted your feelings. Or rather, you’ve accepted hers? In any case, two people in love have finally come together and acknowledged each other. Joyful and celebratory.”

“Uh…”

Anastasia’s cheeks flushed crimson. This wasn’t embarrassment—it was tension and an urge to defend herself. Claire’s words struck her ears like knives, cutting so deep she couldn’t utter a single word in response.

True, she was not the forget-me-not Anastasia. She still remembered that day in the Fire Cat hunting grounds, Claire standing before the floor-length window, saying that anyone who genuinely treated Fia well could earn her recognition. Especially Anastasia. But talking was cheap. When it came down to reality, it was another matter entirely.

She possessed neither great strength nor supreme authority. She could even be called lowborn. Even if Fia were someday to take a queen, it would never be someone like her. Claire’s congratulations now were the sharpest of mockeries.

She could only lower her head further. Her teeth bit hard into her lower lip. Her entire body grew so tense she began to perspire.

“I’ve betrayed Lady Claire’s trust… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done something so shameful. But… but if I—”

Her words cut off abruptly. Anastasia’s mouth opened, then closed. She didn’t dare continue.

But if I withdrew now , it would only create a rift between Fia and Claire. She wanted to explain, yet putting herself in Claire’s position, she realized this would sound exactly like threatening Claire using her relationship with Fia. It would only deepen the misunderstanding.

Then Claire’s voice came, equal parts exasperated and amused.

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“What did Anastasia think I meant? I’m genuinely happy for you. I’m not mocking you.”

Before Anastasia could stammer out an explanation, Claire cupped her chin with one hand and lifted her face, forcing Anastasia to meet her eyes. Her earlier celebratory expression had shifted to one of helplessness.

“In Little Fia’s heart, you have an irreplaceable place. It was obvious even back when I was in Aurora City. I don’t know exactly what happened between you, but the conclusion is simple: Little Fia cannot be without you. I think even if that soul-swapping incident hadn’t occurred, it would only have been a matter of time before you and Little Fia came together. In Cold Night, you were already one step away. The ring on your finger is proof.”

“So my view remains the same as it was in the Cold Night. You two being together is a good thing. Little Fia is so exceptional that me—someone incomplete—becoming queen already makes me deeply uneasy. If I were also to become an obstacle between you and Fia, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night because of the guilt.”

“Honestly, I already felt guilty when Nola was rejected. If not for me, Fia might have accepted Nola, at least tried to see how things went. As her lover, first I failed to recognize her feelings. Now I’ve become a mountain blocking her and the one she loves. You understand this feeling, don’t you? If Anastasia were queen alone, and Little Fia were this exceptional, surely you’d think, ‘Ah, am I not good enough? I can’t keep up with Fia.’ No, with Anastasia, you’d certainly think, ‘How could someone like me ever stand before the public as queen?'”

“…”

Anastasia parted her lips as if to speak, but said nothing.

Claire’s hypothetical was practically fact. If she were in Claire’s position, she would certainly feel exactly as Claire described—and more intensely. Even now, she was terrified simply to be with Fia. Her only wish was to keep their relationship hidden, to maintain it as a secret love affair. She feared the whispers of those around her. She dreaded outsiders’ judgment.

But Claire was different from her.

Anastasia attempted to protest.

“Lady Claire is far superior to me. You are an eighth-rank master. No one would speak ill of you. If anything, you are the one in this world most suited to Her Highness.”

“And that’s precisely why my flaws are all the more significant.”

If she weren’t concerned about drawing Fia and the others’ attention from the training ground, Claire would have planted her hands on her hips and sighed theatrically.

“I carry the curse of being forgotten and feared. I myself am a being of unknown nature. Never mind the risk of some deity one day coming to settle accounts with me—first and foremost, this curse could pass to any child Fia and I have. And that’s still the optimistic view. I am not an elf. I have no Mana Surge. My very existence defies this world’s will. Heaven knows whether I can even bear the responsibility of producing heirs for the royal family.”

“A queen who cannot bear children for the royal family—does that not fundamentally disqualify one from being queen? Not to mention I may well be the very cause of the Land’s Fall.”

The last sentence eluded Anastasia. But the preceding words she understood perfectly—so clearly that her urgent impulse to defend herself dissolved into shyness.

“You… you haven’t tried, so how do you know it’s impossible…”

“Little Fia hasn’t yet reached the age of adulthood for elves.”

You know that perfectly well too.

Anastasia grumbled inwardly, though only to herself. Things had progressed this far. She now understood Claire’s intent. Claire was helping her. Pushing her toward becoming a consort—even queen.

How could I…

Her mind resisted, yet her subconscious stirred with eager anticipation. Joy threatened to leap from her chest and escape through her throat. Still she couldn’t meet Claire’s eyes. She swallowed hard and forced the words out.

“As you said, someone like me is unfit to stand before others. I… I confessed my feelings to Her Highness, but knowing that she holds me in her heart is enough. I have never once entertained the thought of competing with you for her. Remaining a maid is what befits my station—the choice that will not bring trouble upon Her Highness. This may be presumptuous, but if you are truly concerned about bearing heirs for Her Highness in the future, I… I could secretly bear a child for—”

Before Anastasia could finish, Claire placed a hand on her shoulder. Anastasia instinctively raised her head. There she met Claire’s jade-green eyes, now utterly serious.

“Never speak so disparagingly of yourself again, Anastasia. Your worth is not determined by those around you—it is determined by you. No, in your case, you believe your worth is determined by Fia, do you not?”

“Yes…”

“Then it’s simple. If Fia believes you are worthy, then you are worthy without question. Would you truly disregard Little Fia’s feelings because of others’ opinions? Are those people more important to you than Fia?”

Of course not.

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But even knowing this conclusion, something still felt amiss.

Seeing Anastasia’s silence, Claire understood her point had been conveyed. The problem now was not how Anastasia faced Fia and herself—but how to face those around her. How to overcome her own fear.

The root of this was the current Elf King, Yelido. He was the one who had instilled this fear.

Yet given the current situation, Fia had already resolved the grievances of the previous generation. Anastasia should encounter no further trouble.

The path ahead was clear.

Claire smiled and took Anastasia’s hand.

“So from today onward, Anastasia is my sister. Should I address you as older sister or younger sister? And I am still the queen—that shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

“Eh? No, no, no, no. I… you… I… h-how could we possibly address each other as sisters? Th-this is far too soon! And of course you are the queen. How could I ever usurp your position! Lady Claire, you must have more self-respect!”

Anastasia’s words tumbled out incoherently. Her blue eyes spiraled like mosquito-repellent coils, dizzy and unfocused.

How adorable.

Claire couldn’t suppress a smile. Beyond her gentle, serious facade lay this maidenly shyness. No wonder her Fia was captivated. Even she found it difficult to resist.

There’s definitely potential for teasing here. Perhaps someday, when the time is right, Fia and I could tease her together. In the bedroom, naturally.

A wicked thought crossed Claire’s mind.

I wonder when Little Fia will manage to lure Anastasia into bed. No—perhaps the reason it hasn’t progressed that far is because I’m standing in the way. They feel awkward and uneasy.

Claire blinked. In that instant, she realized the obstacle was herself.

Those two are hopeless.

Once Fia’s sparring concluded, she would take Anastasia by the hand and announce before everyone that Anastasia was the second consort. Nothing could more clearly convey her stance.

Watching Anastasia, whose pointed ears had flushed crimson, Claire smiled and withdrew her gaze.

It was then that a tall young woman in a black gown, her long, light-green hair bound in twin tails, hurried past Claire. She rushed urgently toward the ongoing spar. First, she bowed formally to Fia. Then she spoke a few words. Instantly, Fia’s expression grew severe. She set aside her wooden sword and strode directly toward Claire.

Fia approached with an intense aura. Claire perceived it clearly.

“What happened?”

“Claire. Estelle is in trouble. She’s disappeared.”

“What?”

Following Claire’s shocked query, Erin Slate’s solemn voice rang out.

“The Fire Cat Holy Son sent word. His messenger said Estelle vanished without a trace three days after arriving in Cold Night. Only a few severely wounded soldiers escaped to his territory. These soldiers were withered, their bodies as if drained of blood. They spoke only a few words before perishing. Now, aside from knowing the enemy are blood clan and that Estelle was their target, there is no further information. Miss Estelle’s fate is unknown. We must depart at once.”