Look at You, What a Pitiful Mess

“I’m not saying you can’t go out, but—someone has to go with you, right?”

Solor had originally planned to speak more casually, but Ellie’s attitude made his chest feel strangely tight, and his voice rose slightly.

“Go with me? No need. I want to walk alone. Having people around is exhausting.”

At the same time, Ellie was extremely firm.

She absolutely didn’t want random people following her—unless they were like before, the utterly loyal assassins of the Nightingale House.

But… since the mother of this world didn’t have such far-reaching ambitions, the assassin organization created for seizing the throne shouldn’t exist.

Those assassins shouldn’t exist—no, not “not exist,” but they would not be assassins, nor hers.

Thinking this, Ellie felt an unexpected loneliness.

Those capable assassins were no longer at her side.

Handling future matters would become troublesome, and without people who truly understood her, she would have to keep many things buried forever.

Even though she was a princess now—the beloved treasure of the empire—her mind was still that of Eric, the tyrant who cut down opportunistic nobles without hesitation.

So occasionally her thoughts did not match the image of a gentle princess.

Thoughts that only someone who truly understood her could handle.

But in this world, no such people existed.

She sometimes thought: if she came to this different world, then it must be for atonement.

Perhaps her former killing sprees angered the gods, and this was her second chance—to compensate those she had harmed.

But…

Haa… forget it.

Thinking too deeply was pointless.

As long as she lived this life without harming others—no, in a way that helped others—shouldn’t that be enough?

By that logic, she really couldn’t trouble Solor either.

Ellie was essentially persuading herself—half Eric’s stubbornness, half Ellie’s obedient gentleness.

Not a split personality, but a practical thought:

Isn’t this life for atonement?

And if this life is short, shouldn’t I behave well?

If I don’t, will I be forced into a third life?

No thanks.

Two rounds with these people is already enough.

“But Ellie, you’re the royal princess after all. And you just got injured. If you want to go out, someone must accompany you. I’m worried about you, truly. As your brother, of course I care about your health and safety…”

“Alright. I understand.”

“No, you’re not understanding, Ellie, you—”

“I won’t go, Brother. I’ll stay here.”

Ellie said this with a smile.

That should count as good karma, right?

It saved him unnecessary effort.

And she didn’t actually want to argue with Solor.

In the past, arguing was fun—she could see amusing expressions on Solor’s face.

But now?

Their relationship wouldn’t make such arguments entertaining.

“…Ah… huh? What?”

Ellie’s shift was so sudden it was like an old lady sprinting through an intersection and then drifting around a corner—almost snapping Solor’s spine.

Half of his sentence was already out; he slammed the brakes and replaced the rest with confused noises, ending in a helpless question mark.

“I said I’m not going anymore. If my actions trouble you, then I won’t go.”

Ellie stopped grooming herself and sat back on her bed.

Thinking “A bed is for lying down,” she simply lay down.

Then thought, “Since I’m lying down already, I might as well sleep,” and tucked herself into the blanket, closing her eyes.

Since her plans were rejected, her outing required reconsideration.

So today—
Today would be a rest day.

When she was the second prince, she woke early every day, dealing with ministers, resisting Solor’s influence, and checking the progress of her most trusted assassin—

Damn that captain.

How did he steal my Red Raven?

Is my charm really that lacking?

Solor watched as his sister transformed from energetic eagerness into a limp, exhausted figure burrowing into bed.

Ellie felt fine.

She even thought she might look considerate—perhaps in Solor’s eyes, she had become a kind and understanding little white flower.

The idea amused her, but… well, if he was happy, that was fine.

But in Solor’s eyes?

It was completely different.

Just moments ago, she was speaking properly, even if firmly.

But now?

What was this?

Why did she suddenly lie down and shut her eyes?

My dear sister…
You’re not actually angry at me, right? 🥺

I—I’m only worried about your safety…

You just fell from a height…

You always look gloomy lately…

You seem troubled…

If I let you go alone, I’m terrified—

What if you do something I’ll regret for the rest of my life?

But… Don’t… Don’t do this—

“—Alright, Ellie. It’s my fault. Don’t get upset. I’ll take you out, okay? Come on, get up. Don’t be angry at your brother.”

“…?”

Ellie had been resting peacefully with her eyes closed, but when Solor suddenly said that, her brows tightened as if she’d seen a ghost in broad daylight.

Who was imitating Solor’s voice?

Was this really her brother?

The cold emperor who once ignored all familial affection?

How could he talk like this?

Ellie opened her eyes suspiciously—and indeed, Solor looked worried and dejected.

Completely unlike the ruthless man she had known.

Even though she remembered she had entered another world…

This reaction was far too fresh.

She wanted to sketch his expression and take it back to show the unlucky brother from her original world—

But unfortunately, that world would never be accessible again.