But wait?
Alec—my baby brother—was staring intensely at my bodyguard.
Hey. Why the bedroom eyes?! Huh? Wait a minute…
D-don’t tell me…my baby brother was hit with Cupid’s arrow? Oh, God, Alec…not you, too! Oh…I’m so sorry! But there’s just no way I can be supportive of your romance right now! I know I was just thinking that I’d be cool with my baby brother marrying a guy, and I know I predicted my current bodyguard was bound to leave me soon, but if he left me for Alec? Talk about major psychological damage…!
“Oh, no you don’t, Alec. He’s my bodyguard.” Let’s nip this in the bud, shall we?
“Well, now you are being even more uncharacteristic,” Alec said. “I’ve never heard you speak up for a guard so. You there. Tell me your name.”
Eep! His name? Why does Alec have to ask my bodyguard for his name? This can only be an expression of interest!
But…wait just a second now…
My bodyguard showed no sign of answering. I turned around to find the knight standing still as stone behind me.
“Hey. You,” Alec prompted him again.
But there was still no answer. Well, this is certainly awkward.
“You. Answer Alec at once,” I commanded him.
And with a little bow, my bodyguard finally spoke. “My deepest apologies. But, Princess Octavia.” He paused, his deep blue eyes focused on mine. “The one I serve is you. Without your express permission, I cannot answer anyone, not even your brother. If anyone asks my name, all the more so.”
“My, such dedication…,” I said with a smirk.
Come to think of it…if someone asked a subordinate his name and he answered of his own volition, that basically meant “Consider this my letter of resignation.” A changing of the master, so to speak. But what it would really be considered was a betrayal.
And actually, I’d compleeetely forgotten about that! But stay with me here!
This was a custom that dates way, way, waaay back into Esfia’s history. Now, if both parties were well aware of the meaning behind it, it was a rather significant act, but that practice was a shell of itself now. It had scarcely crossed my mind up until now. But I did see this custom come up in Volume 5 of The Noble King, when Lord Sil used it to get a new subordinate.
Alec smiled suddenly. “You refuse to speak directly to me because I am not your master. Are you suggesting that I ask my sister if I wish to know your name? My, you are quite the old-fashioned one.”
It seemed that Alec understood.
Whoa, would you listen to that sass?! My Alec is growing up, and I don’t know whether to be proud or sad about it. Between that and the recent growth spurt, I’m starting to see glimpses of a rebellious phase, dear Alec. But your princelike mannerisms are on point!
Completely unlike me. Even though I was born a princess, my past life as Maki made it a real struggle to get my speech and mannerisms up to par for a royal! It’s like, since I already had the worldview and feelings of a modern-day Japanese girl as my foundation, it was hard to get my bearing right.
“Dear Sister,” Alec said, returning his gaze to me. I guess this was his special way of asking me to tell him the name of my bodyguard.
In other words, I have to tell Alec the name of my bodyguard right now. But, um, Alec? As much as your dear sister would love to tell you his name…I don’t know it, either, buddy!
It sucked, but if I just told Alec, “I dunno!” he was sure to be disappointed in me. I hid my face behind my open fan.
I hope he didn’t see how shifty my eyes were… Wait, Mr. Bodyguard! Good sir, is that a twinkle in your eye behind that wooden facade? Are you mocking me? Wait, do you know that I can’t answer?
Aha! Just got an idea.
I closed my fan and pointed its tip at my bodyguard. “I, your master, am giving my express permission. Tell Alec your name.”
This just might work!
“As you command, Your Highness,” my bodyguard answered reverently, going along with my scheme. “I am Klifford Alderton.”
According to my knowledge from my past life as an otaku, or die-hard fan, most court names in European settings originated from the domain a person came from. And in the world of The Noble King, the nobility in my own kingdom of Esfia used their surnames as their court names, so it’s all very easy to remember. There weren’t any deathly embarrassing situations where you’d be like, “I know I’m the Duke of A, but my name is B, not A!” or you’d ask someone’s surname and you’d be like, “Oh, so you’re Duke Somethingoranother, right?” only find out that he’s actually a viscount and has a different domain name! Nope, none of those misunderstandings here!
I know this sounds weird coming from me, but I’m not really all that bright. I sucked at math and at English. I may have an extra eighteen years’ worth of memories, but that’s it, really. And I’m not sure if my sixteen years as Octavia added much to that… I get the feeling they didn’t.
From the moment I was born, I had memories of my past life. This meant I was a very precocious child, and many people fawned over what a genius I was, but the closer I got to the age I died at in my past life, the less praise I received. And now, I act my age. This was my true mental age all along.
But let’s put a pin in that…
So my bodyguard is a son of a count from House Alderton, eh? The Aldertons made a name for themselves among the nobility as a military family. Wait…huh? But I thought they only had daughters. Were there any ikemen of marriageable age in that family?
Alderton… Alderton… Hmm…
“Klifford Alderton, you say?” Alec asked.
Hmm? C’mon, Alec, why’re you all surprised?
“Ridiculous. Why is a bastard like you my sister’s bodyg—?”
“Alec. You shouldn’t speak like that.”
Alec, I’ve never heard you curse before!
“But, Sister!”
“Her Highness permitted it,” my bodyguard, Alderton, interjected. His eyes were locked right on me.
“No… Sister, is this true?” Alec asked me, his eyes filled with bewilderment.
What Sir Alderton was saying here was that he, Klifford—well, I don’t suppose his first name mattered here, but his family name might come in handy in high society if he ever were to stop being my bodyguard—got permission to be my bodyguard from me, right?
I searched my memory. Three months ago…Alderton’s predecessor had a fated encounter and ran off with his beloved after a mere three days. He was a real overachiever, that one. So I needed to find a successor as soon as possible. Then, a few days later, my chief lady-in-waiting gathered up some candidates and brought them to me for approval. And I think Alderton was among them… Yeah, probably.
And when it came time to make my decision, I used a special technique from my past life. I did eeny-meeny-miny-moe. I mean, no matter who I chose, he was just gonna up and leave anyway. Why be selective, right?
So anyway, the name my finger landed on wound up being Alderton. So I had handed the paper to my chief lady-in-waiting, told her I chose him, and called it a day.
And the very next day, Alderton became my bodyguard.
Then, fast-forward three months. My days were peaceful, and Alderton was loyally carrying out his duties.
I smiled at Alec. “Why, yes. I chose Alderton myself. And he is serving me very well.”
“Dear Sister…” Alec sighed. “…If you say so, then it may not be my place to complain. But still…”
Alec sulked, his father’s golden hair hanging in his eyes. I reached out to him instinctively.
“Sister…what is it?”
Unable to resist the temptation, I tousled his hair. When we were younger, I’d tousle it mercilessly without a second thought, but now, perhaps due to his rebellious phase, whenever I’d touch his head, Alec wouldn’t reject me outright, but he would look a bit grumpy. But that made him even more adorable!
I removed my hand from his head and squeezed him in a tight hug.
“Agh! S-Sister!”
“Oh, Alexis, I love you so much.” Then I gave his head a couple pats. This was my self-care!
Alec sighed heavily in my arms. “Sister…you should try having your own head petted.”
He wants to…give me head-pats?
“Oh my. Are you going to pet my head, Alec? Very well… I’m waiting.” I hunched over slightly.
Alec slowly reached out to me. He rested his hand on my head, then rubbed. He stroked my head a few times before lowering his hand and lifting my loose tresses in his fingers. Thanks to the diligent work from my handmaids, my hair was silky as a shampoo commercial model—it’s my pride and joy!