However, Herscherik knew that the man was actually in his thirties.
He’s pretty much as old as I was in my last life... Life really wasn’t fair.
Herscherik buried his internal lament with a smile and said, “Good morning, father.”
As Herscherik greeted him, the young man—Herscherik’s father—hoisted up his son and flashed a smile that could have made any woman fall in love, before stroking his silky blond hair. As Herscherik had never gotten used to having his hair stroked, he looked tickled and embarrassed. For an old maid of 35 trapped in a three-year-old’s body, this was the best reaction she could muster.
As he gave an embarrassed giggle, Herscherik recalled his astonishment when he’d found out that this man was his father. In this life, Herscherik considered himself as adorable as a princess, even for a baby. The goose that had laid the golden egg that was Herscherik, though, was platinum—more precious than gold. When they’d first met, Herscherik mistook his youthful father for his brother, albeit a much older one. Since his father didn’t regularly come to visit him, Herscherik was concerned that his “brother” didn’t have a steady job. Once he found out what his father’s occupation was, though, he realized those worries were groundless.
“Pardon my interruption.”
Their quality family time was interrupted by the deep voice of a gentleman who had been standing beside them. The man with steel-colored, not-quite-emerald green hair and similar eyes was Rook, the butler who exclusively served Herscherik’s father. Most people realized that only the wealthy had butlers. Combined with the existence of his nanny, Herscherik had guessed that his father was a noble or some other upper-class citizen. The truth, however, far exceeded his expectation.
“It is almost time for your meeting, Your Majesty.”
As his butler said so, Herscherik’s father, Solye, the 23rd king of the kingdom of Gracis, reluctantly lowered Herscherik to the floor.
Gazing up at his somewhat disappointed father, Herscherik held back a dry chuckle.
Just going by my quality of life, I assumed that I was reborn as an heir to some rich noble... But a prince...? What can I do but laugh?
Herscherik’s thoughts when he discovered this were indescribable. Surely, almost everyone dreamed of being a prince or princess at one point in their life. Ryoko was no exception. When she was little, she’d also daydreamed about being a princess. Now that she’d been reborn as the opposite gender and was actually a prince and not a princess, instead of just enjoying this dream come true, she was mostly curious about why she’d daydreamed about that sort of thing in the first place.
A daydream kind of loses its luster in real life, doesn’t it...?
So early in life, Herscherik already felt like he had lost an important piece of himself.
“I’d best be going, then.”
“Have a good day at work, Father.”
Solye smiled at Herscherik and gave his son’s head one last pat before leaving the room with his butler in tow.
After seeing his father off, and as Meria prepared his breakfast, Herscherik quietly sat in his chair, staring at the painting above the mantel. It was the portrait he saw directly across from him whenever he sat down to eat—a portrait in the style of the Mona Lisa. Just recently, Meria had informed him that the subject of the portrait was his mother, who had died from complications shortly after giving birth to him. According to Meria, his mother was the most beloved among the king’s queens and concubines. However, since his mother was of lesser birth and the king already had a First Queen, Herscherik’s mother was never granted that title. As for how they met, Herscherik couldn’t tell how much of it was the truth and how much of it was Meria’s exaggeration.
Apparently, his father had met his mother on one of his secret trips into town. Then, after a series of events that, if factual, could understandably send Herscherik down the road of delinquency out of sheer embarrassment as well as make anyone who heard it blush, (yes, even avid readers of shojo comics!) the proposal came. His mother had proposed to his father. At that point, his father and mother were more than a decade apart in age. Herscherik kept wondering if his mother actually wasn’t bothered by it, or if his father was some kind of pedophile since he was practically in his thirties when he’d married his mother, who had been eighteen at the time.
Since Meria was one of his mother’s ladies-in-waiting, she told Herscherik with nostalgia in her eyes that she’d chatted with his mother often. Apparently, his mother was considered less attractive than the First Queen and even the other royal queens. By the ridiculous beauty standards of the queens, at least. She was plenty attractive by ordinary standards.
His mother was always cheery, Meria had said. She had never seen her upset about anything. Herscherik’s mother was always bursting with energy and loved to do household chores, despite being a queen. She often caused trouble by starting to clean things on her own or sneaking into the kitchen to make cookies or cakes to take to the queens’ tea parties. Once, she startled the king to tears at the end of a long day by greeting him in terrifying ghost makeup. She was one strange queen, indeed.
Eventually, she bore the king’s child, Herscherik, in exchange for her life. The king had lost his true love. It was apparent to anyone that his father had treated his favorite queen better than any other. He was still so smitten by her child that he now came to see Herscherik every chance he got during his busy schedule. However, that didn’t mean that the king neglected any other queens or their children.
Herscherik was the youngest prince, seven years the junior of his youngest sibling. His older siblings all attended the academy and weren’t around during the day. The queens, perhaps thanks to the king’s character, did not pursue any schemes motivated by envy or political ambition. In fact, they often had a sort of girls’ day where they elegantly discussed how to cheer up their exhausted king over tea, as Meria had witnessed on her walks through the courtyard. While she was there, she was occasionally given some snacks, too. Herscherik’s first thought was to hope that the queens stayed away from ghost pranks like his mother had loved to pull. He could easily imagine his father becoming a spirit instead of regaining his.
“Lord Herscherik, aren’t you excited for tonight?” Meria said, as she served him his late breakfast. “What outfit should we wear? How about the brand new burgundy one? Oh, but light green suits your hair so well.”
As Meria looked at him with glittering eyes, Herscherik swallowed a piece of bread and crooked his neck.
“What’s tonight?”
“Oh, my!” Meria’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Tonight is your birthday party, Lord Herscherik. And your debut.”
Herscherik crooked his neck again at Meria’s explanation.
Above the well-maintained royal garden, the ballrooms connected to each other via balconies. The best musicians, summoned from the four corners of the country, played in an area that hosted a dance floor in the center, where a few couples were dancing to the music. The ladies’ vibrant dresses twirled like flower petals, making them look like fairies that had come to announce the commencement of spring. The party had prepared food for the guests, too, albeit just a buffet. A crisp, white table cloth lined the serving table packed with dish after dish showcasing the best efforts of the royal chefs. Meanwhile, the waiters carried trays through the crowd, stacked with glasses filled with top shelf liquor prepared just for the occasion.
This is like a Shichi-Go-San, I guess? I wish I was out there eating, too...
Watching his guests enjoying the food out of the corner of his eye, Herscherik couldn’t help but be disappointed. At the far end of the ballroom, Herscherik sat beside his father dealing with the endless wave of guests, his exasperation completely concealed under the customer service smile he had mastered in his previous life.
Apparently, it was customary for royal and noble children to be introduced into high society at the age of three. Members of the royal family, in particular, remained in the palace until this point, with little opportunity to meet with other nobility. The closest interaction a royal child had was with their mother’s family, but Herscherik’s only relatives on his mother’s side were his elderly, commoner grandparents. When his mother married his father, though, they had disowned her. Never seeing his grandparents, Herscherik had met very few people in his life aside from his father, his nanny Meria, and Rook the butler. He had met the other queens and his siblings only a handful of times before now.