I Became the Youngest Prince in the Novel
Chapter 4

The Fiancée

The private training room under the Sunken Star Palace was filled with a dark mist that seemed to have a will of its own as it spread outward. The sight was reminiscent of a night sky—countless stars glinted inside the mist.

However, there was a single dark star among them, swallowing all the light from the surrounding stars as it rotated. While it was faint, it gave off an intimidating presence.

It spun that way for some time, feeding on the light.

Suddenly, every star, including the dark one, and the mist surrounding it all was sucked into a single location—into Sion, who sat cross-legged on the floor with his eyes closed.

I should be able to reach the first tier soon enough.

He opened his eyes slowly and stood up, covered in sweat. He flexed his fists.

Dark Celestial Essence.

It was a power that only he could control—an anomaly that countered all other powers.

He should have reached the first tier long before this, but the assassination attempt when he’d first awoken in this new body had delayed it. Even if Dark Celestial Essence was a power influenced more by the spirit than the body, this body had known no training—thus, he’d been forced to physically overextend in order to stop the attack. What was more, the fight with the treacherous knights had delayed his recovery.

This recovery had long since been completed.

The problem is this body...

While there was no doubt that Dark Celestial Essence was the greatest power that existed, it was also a heavy burden on the soul and body.

Sion Agnes’s body, unfortunately, was not simply feeble—its fragility boggled the mind. In fact, he was surprised it could even walk.

Perhaps it would have been easier if I had access to my weapon.

He considered it for a moment, then shook his head. It was pointless to want something that didn’t exist in this world. For now, endless training was the only way.

After he finished his training, he walked toward the door.

And the fish should have started to bite, he thought.

The attack on the palace had not only failed, but there had been no reaction whatsoever. Those who’d been behind the attempt on his life were probably extremely nervous right about now. After all, all their contacts had been killed, which would only increase their concern.

There was a knock at the door. Fredo’s voice called out, “Your Highness.”

“Come in.”

Fredo opened the door carefully and walked inside. His eyes filled with gratification when he saw his prince. Sion was covered in sweat from head to toe—an unimaginable departure from the past Sion, whose only training had been walking around.

Finally, Your Highness...

Not only had he showcased immense power by defeating the assassins and the knights, but he’d been merciless as he’d lopped his enemies’ heads off. It was hard to believe this was the same person, but Fredo welcomed the change. This was the only way the prince could survive in the imperial castle.

The blood of your family has awakened inside you.

The only complaint Fredo had was that Sion seldom left the training room, so it was difficult to see his face.

“What is it?” Sion asked quickly, finding the look in Fredo’s eyes rather uncomfortable.

“Oh,” Fredo replied. “You have a guest.”

“Who?”

“Lady Priscilla.”

“And who is that?” Sion asked. He’d heard the name before, but he couldn’t seem to remember who she was.

An odd look came over Fredo.

“Your fiancée, Your Highness.”

* * *

“My fiancée...” Sion muttered. He’d washed himself off and headed to the reception room where Priscilla was waiting for him.

Naturally, an imperial prince was likely to be engaged to somebody. She probably wasn’t mentioned in the novel at all if she was Sion’s fiancée. It made sense that he didn’t know anything about her, since he didn’t possess any of the original Sion’s memories.

So why do I get the feeling I’ve heard of her?

He opened the door of the reception room, puzzling over this contradiction. Inside, two men and a woman were sitting on an antique sofa and sipping tea. The woman, presumably the fiancée, locked eyes with him.

Her gaze was as cold as ice.

Ah, I understand now.

Sion realized where he’d heard her name. This was Priscilla Barmelle, who was mentioned a few times by characters in the novel. A certain incident later on would see her known by the moniker “Woeful Lady.” She didn’t have a proper role in the book, which was probably why he hadn’t been able to recall the details.

Who knew he was engaged to that Priscilla Barmelle?

Her looks matched the ones described in the novel—in particular, her eyes gave off a dark-red light. Sion was certain that he was right.

“Why are you so—”

“Give us a moment, you two,” said Priscilla.

The two men looked upset. One of them had been about to say something before Priscilla had stopped them and sent them out. However, they left the reception room without uttering a word of complaint.

Sion guessed that these young men were enamored hangers-on.

Priscilla silently gazed at Sion, who sat down opposite her, and he returned the eye contact. The silence lasted for a while.

“It’s been a while,” Priscilla finally stated. Her voice was just as cold as her eyes.

It was hard to believe she was his fiancée.

“Is that right?”

“Yes. You seem to have changed quite a bit since we last met.” She sipped her tea, running her eyes over his face. “From the way you’re looking me in the eye...to the way you’ve made me wait.”

It was quite an impudent thing for a noble to say to a prince, but she was right on both counts.

Sion—the original Sion—had never once made her wait.

He had welcomed her every time at the entrance of the palace and made sure she lacked for nothing when she stayed. Even so, as if attesting to his feeble personality, he’d always stared at the ground and had never made eye contact with her.

“Do you mean to suggest I should wait for you, then?” Sion replied with a sarcastic grin.

Priscilla’s eyes glinted at this strange new attitude. Something was different about him.

“Well...no.”

She decided not to bother with it. Closing her eyes for a moment, she broached the subject of her visit.

“I came here today to call off our engagement.”

She’d been considering this for a very long time.

He was a prince in nothing but name, an embarrassment to the Agnes family. Pure-blooded, but abandoned by his family all the same. All of these things were true of Sion Agnes. In line with his reputation, he was no better than a noble with no power or influence—and in fact, even less than one.

But the biggest reason was that she simply didn’t like him.

The only tie between them was the promise that had been made between their families when both parties had been very young. Her family had wanted to forge kinship with the imperial family.

“If you don’t agree, I shall—”

Sion interrupted her.

“As you wish.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I take it we’re done here?”

With that, Sion got up and headed for the door.

He had neither the wherewithal nor the time to worry about this engagement. He had no intention of meddling in the event that would befall Priscilla at a later date either.

It had nothing to do with him, and he only had a limited amount of time.

In fact, he’d made the time to visit her for only one reason—he’d wanted to see if Priscilla had been involved with the recent attack.

The timing of this visit was suspect, after all.

But she doesn’t know about the attack.

If she had known, she would have mentioned it—or asked him about his condition. If nothing else, she would have inspected his body unconsciously.

She had done none of those things, however, and therefore, he was done with her.

Having wrapped up his thoughts, he made to leave the reception room. One of the young suitors who’d been waiting at the door quickly stopped him. He was a giant of a man, looking at least a head taller than Sion. He also seemed to be quite high-ranking, since his clothing was very luxurious.

“I suggest you go back inside and apologize to Lady Priscilla.”

Had the suitor heard the conversation?

The man stared down menacingly at him.

Sion gazed at his face. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You cut her off while she was speaking, and you left the room before she was finished with you. You have no right to treat her like that.”

A sigh escaped Sion’s lips.

It wasn’t that he was exasperated with the speaker—rather, he was frustrated at Sion Agnes. It was unimaginable for a noble to speak to a member of the imperial family in this way. How terribly weak was Sion? How much had he allowed people to walk all over him that a young man like this dared to slight him?

Perhaps the sigh was irritating. The other admirer, who’d been watching the situation unfold, spoke peevishly. “Not when you’re a prince abandoned by your family. Isn’t that right?”

This second man was gaunt and wore a robe. He appeared to be a magician.

“You know something?” Sion’s eyes curved with enjoyment. “I don’t like it very much

when someone stands in my way.”

Priscilla sighed, flabbergasted, as she watched Sion disappear through the doorway.

She’d been aware that Prince Sion had deep feelings for her, and she’d assumed that he would heavily protest the canceled engagement. Therefore, she’d considered many ways to make the parting final.

But she hadn’t even been able to finish saying her peace, much less use the arguments she’d prepared.

Prince Sion had agreed to call off the engagement before she could get anything out.

It’s almost like...he’s the one who rejected me.

And even if that wasn’t the case, she couldn’t help but feel a stinging in her pride,

accompanied by an odd feeling of distaste.

This won’t do. I’m leaving him, but not like this.

She needed to take control of the situation, or at the very least, conclude the conversation properly.

Priscilla shot to her feet with this thought and headed to the door.

“Hmm?”

She’d thrown the door of the reception room open to stop Sion from leaving, but she paused at the sight that greeted her—Sion was speaking to the two nobles she’d brought with her, Gregor and Arto.

They were both sons of influential noble families, and they were two of the most skilled among her many suitors. They’d proven to be quite useful, which was why she’d let them accompany her. However, the two of them were scowling at Sion.

What’s going on?

Had there been a quarrel in the short time Sion had been outside? They looked ready to lash out at him with their fists at any moment. Gregor was actually already raising his hand.

No!

Priscilla’s eyes widened urgently.

Gregor was reckless and unstoppable when he was angry. He was as strong as a skilled knight, and a single shove from him would be enough to give Prince Sion a heavy injury.

“Stop right—”

She didn’t get to finish her shout.

Gregor,

who was over 190 centimeters tall,

and so big and strong that some claimed he was half-ogre,

was dashed to the floor headfirst

by none other than Prince Sion.