The Viscount’s Daughter in Shock

“It’s come into sight! We’re nearly there.”

I, Bianca von Diebolt, raised my head in reaction to the sailor’s voice. There was land in the direction that he was pointing. A red and mostly even terrain was spread out across the horizon.

When I looked more closely, I noticed a town. This wasn’t Burao, the port city located to the southeast of Flanmer that we’d set out for. No, it was a port town even further to the south. I worried whether the facilities there would be enough since the town wasn’t as extensive as Burao, but we had no other options—Klaus hung in the balance of life and death.

Although Wolf’s deft instructions and medicines had succeeded in keeping him alive, he could take a turn for the worse at any moment. Wolf’s expertise was only worth so much on a ship, where the available options were limited. And now, we were practically cleaned out of water, towels, and medicine.

Our situation was desperate, but nobody was acting pessimistic; everyone was running around and devoting all their efforts to do whatever was currently in their power. “Everyone” included the wounded people on the ship, as well as that spoiled noble girl who’d been bawling her eyes out not long ago.

Why was that? If anyone on the ship had been asked, they’d all have given the same answer: “Because she hasn’t given up.”

“Did you hear that, Klaus?” said Mary, the girl who was holding Klaus’s hand. “We’re nearly there.”

I wasn’t sure whether she was conscious of the fact that she was calling him “Klaus” and not “Big Brother,” but the rest of us had more or less figured out the truth—they weren’t actual siblings. Mary had been raised with proper etiquette, and Klaus handled a sword like a master. Their true relationship was probably that of a noble girl and her guard; however, nobody was tactless enough to point that out.

“Hang in there.” Mary uttered her words like a prayer, and everyone’s eyes were drawn to her.

And once her visage entered our collective view, we couldn’t tear our eyes away from what we saw. The morning sun peeked above the horizon behind Mary, its light delineating her silhouette as she sat with Klaus’s hand in hers. The salt breeze blew through her hair, which was no longer braided. Although she’d dyed her hair a dark brown, the very ends of the strands had returned to their original color. Maybe she’d used a dye that was designed to wash out with hot water. Her true shade was platinum blonde, and it shone brilliantly in the sunrise.

I couldn’t help but be captivated by the sight. As I stood there, entranced, I heard someone whisper croakily, “The goddess.” Though the voice belonged to a single person, the same thought must’ve been running through everyone’s mind.

Mary was in a pitiful state. Her hair was tangled and it clung to her sweaty forehead and neck. Her face, her hands, her clothes... Everything was filthy, coated in blood and muck. And yet, despite all of that, as I looked at her face from the side, she seemed more beautiful than anyone or anything.

The ship slipped into the harbor silently; nobody dared to call out for Mary and disturb her.

The harbor itself was overflowing with morning traffic. Plenty of people were rowing small boats, but there wasn’t another sailing vessel as large as ours. This wasn’t a commercial port like Burao but a small port for local fishermen. The water was too shallow for big ships to pass through easily, and ours only barely made it in.

Armed townsfolk began to gather on the dock, probably alarmed by the arrival of an unfamiliar vessel. The sailors on our ship waved a white cloth to signal our peaceful intentions.

Once the ship had drawn near the wharf, a figure approached. This man, who appeared to be over forty, glared at us with undisguised wariness in his eyes and a drawn sword in his hand.

“If you want to live, then turn around and leave this instant,” he warned.

“Let us dock!” a sailor protested. “We have wounded!”

“I refuse,” the man stated. “You think I’d let some strange ship in here? You must think I’m stupid.”

“This ship sails under the flag of the Kingdom of Nevel, and we have a permit authorizing us to dock in Burao. Some of us were injured when pirates attacked... Please, help us!”

The man squinted at the supplicating sailor. He screwed his face up in a way that made things clear—he didn’t appreciate having this trouble brought to his home. “All the more reason for you to get a move on! How are you gonna make it up to us if the pirates follow you here?!”

The man’s worries were justified. Everyone wanted to protect themselves, and that was doubly true if the safety of family and friends was being put at risk. Outsiders readily got left out to dry for the sake of the community.

Though unjust, I could understand his position. But even so, we had to keep trying, no matter what he said. We also couldn’t afford to let the argument drag on any longer; time was running out.

As I was considering my next move, a young woman’s voice reached my ears. “Th-They’re all dead, the pirates...!”

I turned my head to the side and found the spoiled noble girl, Flora.

“A skilled knight happened to be on board, and he slew them all,” Flora explained in a desperate bid to convince the man that there was nothing to worry about. “Their ship burned down as well, so nobody’s followed us here.”

I couldn’t conceal my shock at her actions.

Both her voice and her white, slender fingers, which were clinging onto the ship’s railings, were trembling. “So, please, let us in.” From the side, I could see that her face was pale, and a bead of sweat dripped down her neck.

She was probably frightened by the man looking up at her from the wharf, and also by the sword in his hand...which made sense, given that her life had been in danger not so long ago. Yet, with no regard for this fear, she maintained eye contact with the man.

Just a little while ago, she was curled in a ball and crying, unable to do anything but shiver. Where has she been hiding this courage?

Even so, her plea didn’t move the man. “Can you prove that?” he asked. It was clear from the look on his face and by the sound of his voice that he was certain she couldn’t.

“I...” Flora bit her lip.

“No?” He sneered as he brushed off the pleas of the frail little girl. “Then get a move on, my cute little lady.”

What a disgraceful excuse for a person... You coward! I showered him with contempt in my mind and entertained the thought of getting a little violent, perhaps goading him into a duel.

“I-I won’t be leaving!” Flora raised her voice as though to dispel her own doubts. “My name is Flora von Gratz, and I’m the eldest daughter of Baron Gratz!” Flora declared this sternly, her head held high. Her legs were jittering and she stumbled over her words, but even so, she gave her all to act the part of a proud noble. “Do you think you’ll be able to escape punishment after turning me away?”

“Wow, so you’re a lady? I did think you were dressed nicely.” The man fixed an appraising stare on Flora.

As his intrusive gaze crept up and down her body, she squirmed uncomfortably. I could sense her distress from the look on her face. She must’ve believed that declaring her family name would give her the upper hand, if only by a little. However, the man didn’t recoil in awe. He didn’t even flinch.

“And?” he said. “Why should I care what a foreign noble wants?”

After a pause, Flora said, “My great-aunt is related to the family of Marquis Eigel and—”

“Good for her,” the man interrupted with a snort. “No good for you, though. If you were one of Flanmer’s nobles, I could see how turning you away would bring us problems down the road. But you come from another country. Is your family influential enough to meddle in the affairs of a nation half a world away?”

“I... I’m...” Flora’s eyes slowly began to swell with tears, but she didn’t cry. Although her words had come to a halt and she looked frustrated, I could see in her eyes that she hadn’t given up. She was desperately grasping for the right words to use.

“That’s enough. You’ve done well,” I wanted to say. I wanted to throw my arms around her shoulders and pat her head. I never imagined that I’d end up feeling this way about that spoiled noble girl, whom I once took for such a brat. Life is full of mysteries.

“What’s it to me who’s a baron or a marquis?” the man asked. “Our livelihoods are on the line here. If you’re that desperate for us to take notice of you, then you should’ve at least brought some royalty with you! Then we would’ve brought you all the doctors you could ask for!” The man’s nose twitched as he laughed derisively.

Suddenly, a dignified voice spoke up. “You’ll honor your word?” She hadn’t shouted, but her words carried clearly through the air.

All eyes gathered on the same spot. The source of the voice stood up straight and took a step forward. Her shoes thudded against the floor.

“Wh—” The man flinched when she turned the spotlight of her gaze directly on him. He held back the insult that had been on his lips and retreated a step back.

She—Mary—wasn’t glaring at him. Far from it, I couldn’t find even a trace of anger or irritation on her face. She didn’t raise her voice, and she maintained a calm facial expression. Even so, the grown man on the wharf was overwhelmed by the presence of this little girl.

“You stated that you’d accept demands from a member of a royal family,” Mary said. “Is that correct?”

“S-So what?!”

“Is. That. Correct?”

“It is. But so what?!” the man barked, as though ashamed of himself for being overawed by Mary.

In response, Mary flashed a pretty smile and said, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Although she must’ve only been thirteen or fourteen, her smile carried an intensity beyond her years. The words “weirdly beautiful” flitted through my mind. I’d always known that she was more than just a cute little girl, but I could never have anticipated...this. Just who in the world is she? I thought. Hints were scattered everywhere, but my brain failed to recognize them properly.

Everyone watched Mary, unable to utter a single word. She spun around, returned to the spot where Klaus lay, and grabbed a bucket filled with warm water.

“Are you aware of the distinguishing features of Nevel’s royal family?” asked Mary as she made her way back toward the man, carrying the heavy bucket with both hands.

“I-I am...” the man sputtered. “Everyone is.”

Few would be able to describe the appearance of members of a royal family, especially another kingdom’s. But Nevel’s royals were famous... So famous that fishermen living in a small town in a far-off country could say, “Everyone knows.”

Each member of that royal family was stunning. And so, they captured the hearts of countless people as word of their beauty spread from mouth to mouth, woven into rumors and the ballads of minstrels.

“Does that include the first princess?” Mary asked.

“Of course,” the man said. “After all, everyone says she’s guaranteed to be one of the most beautiful women in the world when she grows up.”

At that point, for the first time, Mary broke her composure. “I’m not sure about that,” she murmured quietly to herself, wearing a troubled look on her face. But that cute expression of hers vanished within a few seconds. “What does she look like?” Mary asked, urging the man to continue.

“What does she look like?” he repeated. “Let’s see... White skin.”

And Mary’s skin was as white as fresh snow.

“Blue eyes.”

And Mary’s eyes were as blue as the reflection of the clear sky in the sea.

“Wavy hair, which is a shade of blonde like the sun...”

As he was saying those words, Mary lifted the bucket above her. Before anyone could call out to stop her, she tipped it, and the warm water gushed onto her head.

The man jumped with astonishment at Mary’s actions, and then, when he saw what happened next, he was so shocked that he lost the ability to speak.

The bucket dropped from Mary’s hands as she stood in a dignified pose, enveloped by the sunlight behind her in the eastern sky. Even I stood frozen, dazed and captivated by the sight of her, as the sound of the bucket hitting the floor reached my ears.

Droplets of water fell from her platinum-blonde hair, which shone more brilliantly than the morning sun. Her wet skin was as smooth and beautiful as alabaster. She brushed away the damp strands of hair that had clung to her forehead, and her blue eyes shone with fierce determination.

The sailors had probably already guessed what her true hair color was, and I’d met her before she’d disguised herself—but even so, we all found ourselves struck speechless, captivated by her beauty.

“My name is Rosemary von Velfalt, and I’m the first princess of the Kingdom of Nevel. I’d now like you to honor your word and call for the doctor.”

Every person there was too overwhelmed to react to what Mary had said. It took almost an entire minute for the rest of us to snap out of our trance.

The man returned to his senses. “D-Do you have any way to prove that you’re a princess?!” he shouted, as though trying to disrupt the atmosphere that Mary had created.

However, Mary didn’t lose her composure. “I don’t,” she replied in a flat tone of voice.

“Th-Then!”

“But...” she began. She fixed him with a gaze from those clear blue eyes, and he gasped.

“If I am who I say I am, will you be able to bear the responsibility? Will you be able to atone for the grave crime of allowing the death of someone important to Rosemary von Velfalt?”

Speech deserted him when he heard that. Not a soul present could refuse her.