TPSR 14

Chapter 14

The real training began.

No—rather than training, it was closer to torture.

From the start, it seemed like Damian intended to grind me down completely.

“Your posture is wrong. Again.”

I did it again.

“Your foot placement. Again.”

Again.

“I said bend your knees. Again.”

Again.

I repeated the same stance more than twenty times.

My wrists went numb. My shoulders ached. My legs didn’t even need mentioning.

And yet, not once did I hear a single “That’s fine.”

Damian pointed out mistakes every chance he got, and each time I had to reset my posture from the beginning.

Is this bastard doing it on purpose? Is he nitpicking just to wear me down?

I glanced at him.

He was smirking.

No—he was openly enjoying it.

‘…Of course he is.’

He’s trying to make me collapse.

He wants me to give up on my own. He’s waiting for me to say it’s too hard, that I quit.

That way, he can get rid of the burden without lifting a finger.

Or maybe this is revenge for what happened at the annex.

But not a chance.

‘I won’t lose.’

I clenched my teeth.

I had endured having my blood drained, being abandoned, even stabbing myself to death before my regression—and he thinks I’ll give up because training is hard? He was underestimating me far too much.

‘Just try and beat me.’

The harassment disguised as training continued.

Naturally, I skipped lunch.

Damian didn’t tell me to rest, and I didn’t say I needed one.

At this point, it wasn’t training—it was a fight.

Who would tire first.

Who would give up first.

‘…I won’t lose.’

My legs trembled. Even lifting my arms was difficult.

“Your posture is still incorrect, Princess.”

“…I can do more.”

I forced the words out at his sneer.

My voice cracked. It was hard just to stand. If a gust of wind blew, I felt like I might collapse.

“……”

Damian suddenly stopped smiling and looked at me.

There was something strange in his gaze.

How should I put it—unease? Discomfort?

“Why?”

When I asked, unsettled by that look, he pressed his lips together and then stepped back.

“…That’s enough for today.”

“…What?”

I doubted my ears.

“Did you not hear me? I said we’re done for today.”

“But I still haven’t gotten the posture right.”

“If you collapse, it’ll be troublesome for me.”

…So he knew I was about to collapse?

I stared at him blankly, stunned. Damian gave me a brusque once-over and suddenly turned away.

“Same time tomorrow.”

That was all.

He left the training grounds without another word.

And I was left standing there alone.

“…What is wrong with him?”

What kind of person is that?

Damian Carter hated Lorea Frize.

No—hate wasn’t strong enough. He despised her.

The Emperor’s treasure. The imperial demon.

The princess who had used the Emperor’s authority to commit all kinds of tyranny against the Grand Duke’s house.

The princess who was said to have stood beside the Emperor and laughed whenever poison was sent to his father.

The princess who supposedly took the lead in plundering the Grand Duke’s wealth, calling it “Father’s will.”

He had never met her personally, but the rumors were more than enough. As a son of the Carter Grand Duke’s house, he had every reason to loathe her.

And yet that very princess had come to the Grand Duke’s estate.

Shamelessly.

Asking his father to become her guardian. To hide her.

When he first heard the news, he could barely contain his fury. How dare she? After what she did to their house, how dare she come here and ask for shelter?

It was outrageous enough that she had taken up a room in the estate, but her shamelessness knew no bounds.

That she dared to enter that child’s room.

That she even had the audacity to request an escort.

Damian could not tolerate it.

So he decided to torment her under the guise of training.

The Lorea Frize he knew—the greenhouse flower raised in the imperial palace—would surely scream at him for daring to train her like this and run back to the capital.

If she declared with her own mouth that she couldn’t do it and quit, even his father would have nothing to say.

And yet—

‘…What is she trying to prove?’

Something was wrong.

The princess gritted her teeth and endured.

When she fell, she stood back up.
When she was corrected, she tried again.
No matter how harshly he pushed her, she never said she would quit.

He deliberately made her skip lunch. Gave her no breaks. Made her repeat the same stance twenty, thirty times.

And still—

“I can do more.”

With a pale face. Looking like she would collapse at any second.

Did she even know what she looked like?

Blue lips. Shaking legs. Eyes that looked like they might go dark at any moment.

Instead of feeling satisfied, he felt strangely irritated.

No—not irritated.

What was it?

Uneasy.

So he had been the one to call it off.

He didn’t even know why. The words had simply slipped out.

Even after returning to his room, the feeling didn’t fade. He opened a book, but the letters wouldn’t register.

‘I never heard that the princess had become an idiot.’

Why endure it so stubbornly when he was clearly tormenting her?

Why did she look so desperate?

She could have just gotten angry and quit.

‘…It’s bothering me.’

The thought escaped him before he shook his head sharply.

No. It wasn’t that it bothered him. It was just strange. She wasn’t behaving as expected, and that was what annoyed him.

Yes. That was all.

With that conclusion, Damian abruptly stood up.

‘…I’ll go to the library.’

He needed a book to read tonight. It felt like he wouldn’t be able to sleep. In times like this, picking up something dull from the library worked best.

Of course, passing through the corridor where the guest rooms were located couldn’t be helped.

He wasn’t going that way on purpose.

It just happened to be the route.

As Damian descended to the lower floor and crossed the corridor, he saw a familiar face.

Mia.

She was coming from the direction of the guest rooms, holding a tray. The food on it was untouched.

“Mia.”

“Oh, Young Master.”

Mia bowed her head in greeting, then let out a deep sigh.

“What is it?”

“The princess fainted. I brought her dinner, but when she didn’t answer my knocking, I went inside….”

“……”

“She was collapsed on the bed. No matter how much I tried to wake her, she wouldn’t respond. I don’t think she even had the strength to wake up.”

Mia looked at Damian steadily.

There was a subtle reproach in her eyes.

“Young Master, even so, couldn’t you have gone a little easier on her?”

“…What are you talking about?”

“The princess is quite frail. And she’s only thirteen.”

Mia knew.

She knew Damian had been deliberately harsh on Lorea.

She had watched him grow up. She could easily see through the heart of a sixteen-year-old boy.

“…It was necessary. She needs at least minimal stamina to make it to the West.”

“That’s not why you made her skip lunch and trained her like that, is it?”

Damian pressed his lips tightly together.

He had no answer.

Mia sighed, as if she had expected as much.

“I understand your feelings, Young Master. I know you resent the princess.”

“……”

“But she’s still a child. She’s only thirteen.”

Thirteen.

The same age as the one precious treasure Damian had lost.

To think that that small, soft, fragile, warm child and that vicious princess were the same age.

The thought made the tightness in his chest worsen.

“…Fine.”

Damian answered shortly and turned away.

He no longer felt like going to the library.

All the way back to his room, he couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling—as if a thorn were lodged in his chest.