The Reincarnated Princess Mingles

I peeled the skin from the potatoes and scooped out the eyes with the claw of the peeler. As I repeated this monotonous task, I felt like I was being watched. When I raised my head, my eyes met Paul’s. I was confused, unsure of why he was staring so hard at me.

Am I peeling wrong?

“You’ve clearly done this before,” he whispered in amazement, cupping his jaw with a hand. “Who would’ve guessed?”

What, that’s why he’s staring? I’m disappointed that he thought I’d volunteer myself for a task I couldn’t complete.

I must’ve let my irritation show in my expression because Paul began to frantically wave his hands in front of his face. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think that you couldn’t do it... I just never expected you’d be so good at it.”

“Because I’m a child?”

“No. A lot of girls your age have experience helping their mothers, partly to prepare them for their own married lives. No, I just had you pegged as a girl from a rich family.”

My body jumped like I’d been zapped by an electric current.

Though my reaction ought to have given everything away, Paul didn’t seem to pay it much mind. “But sorry,” he said, “guess I was wrong about that.” He let out a carefree laugh.

“Wh-Wh-Why did you think I came from a rich family?” I asked, trying to act composed while placing a hand on my fast-beating heart.

I’d based my outfit and hairstyle on the fashion of the city girls, and I’d taken care to prevent my speech from sounding too formal. Although, that last detail had been quite easy since my inner nature had always been rougher anyway.

“Your gestures and the faces you make, they look... Argh, what’s the word...? Refined! The way you stand too.”

Nobody had ever described me using the word “refined.” I felt happy, but I internally warned myself that I could savor the feeling later. I needed to know what had given me away.

“What else... You have pretty hands. That gave me the impression of a noble girl who’d never had to scrub a pot before.”

My hands?! It was my hands! I felt like cradling my head in said hands. He’d specified a point that had been nowhere on my radar...

He was right in assuming that I spent little time washing up. I’d clean up after myself whenever I’d take over the palace kitchens for a change of pace, but that was once or twice a month at most. I also watered the plants and played with the dirt in the greenhouse, but not enough to blemish my hands. And, in the unlikely event that my hands did become chapped, they’d soon be rejuvenated thanks to some skin-care treatments from the skilled palace maids.

“But a noble girl wouldn’t know how to peel a potato to save her life.” Paul roared with laughter and dismissed the matter, but I could feel my face becoming fraught.

“I never would’ve guessed that our adorable visitor would prove to be such a valuable asset to us,” Kurt said with a sparkle in his eye. He pinched some of the potato skins that I’d peeled and held them up. “Look at how thin these peels are! She’s an artist.”

I smiled at the compliment, but internally I was still freaking out. Oh God, it feels like any little thing could blow my cover. What if there’s a problem with how thinly I’m peeling the potatoes? Do people’s upbringings show in how they use a kitchen knife? Uh-oh, I need to stop thinking or I’m gonna throw up.

I don’t like owing Klaus favors, but I’ll take any help I can get right now. Save me, Klaus! I looked over my shoulder, hoping that he’d sort out the situation, but I instead found him smiling and nodding at Kurt.

Hope deserted me.

Why’s he acting like an old man who’s just been praised for his granddaughter?!

Klaus puffed his chest out with pride, and I felt like killing him. This isn’t the time! Have a little think about the situation we’re in, please!

I prayed with all my heart for someone to change the conversation, while also shooting daggers at my guard for failing to recognize what I wanted, but at that exact moment...the kitchen door opened and Jan returned, carrying a bunch of foodstuffs in one hand.

“Quit slacking, guys!” Jan barked disapprovingly. “You gonna make the girl do all the work?”

Paul and Kurt resumed their tasks at once. Paul was nominally in charge of the kitchen, but it seemed that the actual power was held by someone else.

Well, whatever the case, it worked out for me—the topic got dropped. Relieved, I wiped the sweat from my brow.

Then, a woman’s voice called out to me, and my eyes grew round.

“Mary!”

“Huh?”

“So this is where you were,” said the woman. “No wonder I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Bianca!” I exclaimed.

Big Sis Bianca followed Jan into the kitchen. Apparently, they’d run into each other while Jan was returning from the storage room, and he’d led her here after learning that she was looking for me.

“I was getting worried,” she said. “It was like you’d vanished from the ship.”

“S-Sorry about that.”

“Oh, no need to apologize,” Bianca said, smiling. “I wasn’t looking for you because I needed you, I just wanted to see you. And I have myself to blame for taking so long to get changed.”

Her clothing was indeed different from what she’d been wearing when we’d boarded. Before, she’d been dressed in a trim, dark-blue dress, but now she wore a hempen shirt with a dark-brown gilet, black pants, and black boots. She’d tied her long, wavy black hair at her neck.

“You’re dressed like...” I started.

She was clearly dressed as a man. Seeing a beautiful young woman in men’s clothing seemed jarring at first glance, but something about it was...

“How do I look?” she asked.

My true thoughts slipped out. “Fabulous.”

In fact, it scared me how much I liked her look. Hidden World’s images had never showcased Big Sis Bianca dressed as a man, but she looked so dignified and handsome now... I felt like doors were opening for me that I never knew existed.

The corners of her glossy lips curved upward. “Thank you. Hearing you say it makes me happier than anything else.”

Her enchanting grin caused me to flinch. However, I soon lost sight of her smile—it had become hidden behind Klaus’s back after he’d stepped between us.

Bianca’s voice became deep and firm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you mean?” Klaus responded, just as firmly.

The room felt a degree or two chillier than it had been. I rubbed my arms together for warmth.

“Would you mind not stepping between us?” Bianca complained. “You’re in the way.”

“Who asked you to come here? Oh, that’s right—nobody,” Klaus rebutted. “So don’t act like you get to set the terms around here, and instead, reconsider who’s really in whose way.”

“You’re saying it’s me?” Bianca asked.

“This is the kitchen,” said Klaus. “It’s not a home for layabouts to lounge around.”

“You’re one to talk,” I wanted to quip, but decided against it. Klaus had wanted to help, and I’d been the one to stop him. However, the right to make comments like that should be reserved for people that do more than just watch me work.

Bianca sniffed before boldly declaring, “Well then, I’ll help out!”

Bianca pushed past Klaus and approached me. “What are you doing, Mary? Peeling potatoes?” She looked down at my hands, picked up one of the potatoes, and then turned her eyes toward Paul and the other kitchen workers. “Do you mind if I join in?”

Paul had been observing Klaus and Bianca’s exchange in stunned silence, but he now hurriedly agreed. “S-Sure. We, uh, wouldn’t turn down such a gorgeous woman.”

Bianca pulled up a nearby chair and sat on it, apparently unfazed by the nervous look of Paul’s smile. “Cooking isn’t my strong suit, but I’ll try my best. We’ll do it together, Mary.”

Big Sis Bianca has so much self-confidence and an all-encompassing skill set to back it up, and yet she’s still so humble, I thought. How naive I was.

It’d been a mere three seconds after we’d sat down to work, facing each other over the top of the bucket for discarding the peels... My jaw dropped at the loud thunk that I heard. I looked down inside of the bucket and saw half of a potato rolling around the bottom.

Her hand probably slipped and she chopped that off by accident, I judged. Next, however, one-quarter of a potato flew into the bucket before my eyes. I’d reached down to select another potato, but my hand and my thoughts both came to a halt.

That’s strange. I could’ve sworn that she asked me whether we were peeling potatoes. Maybe I misheard her, and she actually asked if we were dicing potatoes...

Thunk. While I was trying to deny reality, one-eighth of a potato joined the rest in the bucket.

“B-Bianca?!” I cried.

“Hmmm?” In stark contrast to the sheer look of desperation on my face, Bianca merely widened her eyes and tilted her head.

She looks so adorable when she’s puzzled. But more importantly... My eyes drifted toward the tiny remnant of potato in her hand. It wasn’t so much a peeled potato as a minced one.

“Your potato...” As I searched for the right words to say, another chunk of it fell away.

“That’s one peeled,” Bianca said proudly, holding a smile on her face and a die-sized potato in her hand.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, but then put on a warm smile. “Bianca, would you let me finish the rest?”

“Huh? Why?”

“I have a burning passion for peeling potatoes,” I prattled on while smiling faintly. “You could even call it a hobby of mine. I absolutely adore peeling potatoes, and my love for them is so strong that I can’t bear to think about someone else taking the job from me.”

So please, sit over there quietly.

It seemed like I’d succeeded in driving her into submission through the zeal of my argument. Bianca nodded, shrinking back.

With my peace of mind restored, I returned to peeling the potatoes.

Bianca’s eyes lit up as she watched me at work. “You’re amazing, Mary,” she said. “Your peels are so thin. And you’re quick too. You’ll make a good wife one day.”

“D-Do you think so?” I blushed and pointed my head down, embarrassed by the direct compliment. Upon hearing the words “good wife,” my head immediately conjured up an image of me and Sir Leonhart standing together in a kitchen. Yeah, cringey, I know.

I shook my head a little to drive out the delusion.

“You really are amazing,” Bianca said. “I can’t believe you’ve peeled all of these by yourself.”

“She had to, since a certain somebody proved to be nothing but a hindrance,” Klaus grumbled.

“Are you referring to the man with the fishy smile who looks nothing like his cute little sister?”

“No, I’m referring to the woman who’s acting far too friendly with my cute little sister.”

As it happened, there was no need for me to drive the comfy delusion from my head myself. The nasty argument between two people smiling so prettily at each other did that for me. Bianca and Klaus’s exchange was so frosty that I feared I’d catch my death, like Nello in A Dog of Flanders.

Oh, Patrasche, it feels so cold here...

“If you’re not being useful, then why not go above deck and admire the sea?” suggested Klaus.

“I don’t see you helping out either. How about you go and admire the sea? You’ll find a cute girl up there, so why not make friends with her?”

“I’ll leave that to you. She’s pretty, on the outside at least, so I’m sure you’d get along famously.”

Oh God, I can’t raise my head. I cowered, afraid of becoming collateral damage in the war of words raging above my head. Neither of you is doing anything valuable here. In fact, you’re like peas in a pod. It’s not exactly commendable trying to fob Flora off on each other either; she has nothing to do with this. Here’s an idea—why don’t you both go admire the sea together?

A swarm of retorts flew through my mind, but I let none of them pass my lips. I didn’t want the conversational dodgeball to strike me.

“The only cute girl I wanna get to know is right here,” Bianca said. “Right?” she asked, bringing me into the conversation.

I flinched.

“Stop leering at my little sister,” Klaus said. “Come here, Mary.”

Leave me out of this, I’m begging you. I turned my now-hollow eyes toward Paul and the other sailors, who were watching the exchange from a safe distance. They looked away as soon as I made eye contact.

Oh, no. They’ve abandoned me to my fate. Makes sense though. Everyone has to worry about saving their own neck.

While I was staring into the distance and chuckling to myself, trying to mentally detach from the scene, there came a knock at the door.

Kurt was closest to the entrance. “Hello?” he replied.

The door opened and a tall man entered. He had ash-gray hair cut short and light-brown skin. A shrewd sparkle shone in his honey-colored almond eyes, and an old scar was visible near his right eye. I noticed similar scars on the portion of his muscly chest that poked through the collar of his black shirt. He appeared to be in his late twenties.

He had handsome facial features, but something about him made him seem unapproachable. He didn’t look like a sailor or a merchant. Maybe he’s a soldier, I thought, or an adventurer... Or perhaps he’s a mercenary hired to protect the ship.

He swept the room with his eyes. When they met my own, I flinched.

“My, aren’t you cute?” the man remarked after a long and intense look at me.

A stupid-sounding voice emerged from my throat. “Huh?”

“You’re cute, like a little porcelain doll.”

The deepness of his voice suited his muscular appearance, but his tone was softer. No, “soft” didn’t do it justice, but I was too taken aback to properly analyze it.

“I, um, errr... Thank you?” My intonation crept up toward the end, a manifestation of the question marks flying through my mind.

He put on a slight smile when I cocked my head. “Oooh, even your reactions are cute. I wanna bag you up to take home.”

I had to stop myself from instinctively recoiling when he gave me a wink.

Klaus emerged from his dumbstruck state, stopped just standing around, and moved in front of me protectively.

“What do you want with my sister?”

“My, you’re a handsome one too.”

“What do you want?!” In a rare turn of events, it was Klaus that had been taken aback by someone’s behavior.

He’s formidable, this “Misster.” A fierce countenance, but by contrast, kind of effeminate. He might be unbeatable.

Misster was asked once again why he was there, and he clapped his hands together like it’d nearly slipped his mind. “That’s right, I came here for a reason. Mr. Sailor, got any medicine?”

Suddenly finding himself part of the conversation, Kurt jumped. “M-Medicine?”

“You feelin’ rough?” asked Paul. He’d seemed as shaken as Kurt, but he recovered more quickly and straightened out his expression. Maybe that’s the maturity that comes with age.

“It’s not for me,” Misster said. “It’s for a girl. She says she thinks it’s seasickness.”

“I don’t know of any medicines that’ll help with seasickness,” Paul replied.

“Rest is about all you can do,” Kurt piped up. “If she’s suffering, throwing up will make her feel better.”

“Oh dear, that’s not good to hear,” Misster said, placing a hand on his cheek and furrowing his brows. “She looked like she was suffering a great deal.”

I’d been listening to their conversation without saying anything, but after thinking for a moment, I began to scavenge through a pouch that hung from my waist. I stood, moving out from behind Klaus. “E-Excuse me.”

“Hm? Something to say, cutie-pie?” Misster asked.

“C-Cutie-p...? I, er...” I presented the object I’d pulled from my pouch and gave it to Misster.

He cocked his head, mirroring my body language from earlier. “What’s that?”

“It’s a medicinal herb. The effect isn’t strong, but it can help with motion sickness when you chew on it. You can have it.”

My offering was a set of heavenly bamboo leaves.

By heavenly bamboo, I mean nandina—a plant with red berries and thin leaves, and the one whose leaves are used to make the ears of Japanese snow rabbits.

Its berries combat coughing, but I’d just brought the leaves with me. Nandina leaves had long been passed down as a folk remedy in Japan, and chewing on them was said to relieve motion sickness. However, awareness of their effect appeared to be lacking in this world. That was surely the case because even the sailors seemed unaware of this herb.

“But only give her a little, since it’s poisonous in large quantities,” I said. “Let me know if anyone else needs some.”

I don’t need it for myself anyway.

In my previous life, my semicircular canals had been sensitive, so even short car journeys would give me motion sickness. Luckily, I didn’t seem to suffer from that problem at all anymore—I always felt perfectly fine riding in carriages. I’d brought the medicine along just in case, but I couldn’t sense any onset of seasickness.

Misster stared at me in silence, not even reaching out to take the leaves from my hands.

“Ummm...?” I mumbled.

“Hmmm.” Misster hummed, pushing air through his lips, which arched up into a satisfied grin. “Could you come with me for a minute?”

“Huh?!”

“Come have a look at her symptoms.”

“Oh, but, I’m not a doc—”

He cut me off. “Please.” The forceful and intense look of his smile made me realize what I’d done.

Huh? Don’t tell me... I’ve shot myself in the foot again.

“Ohhh...”