I Was Reincarnated as the Prince in a Villainess Story, so I’ll Use My Cheat Knowledge to Create a Noble Lady Harem and Make Them All Happy - 14

Chapter 14: Interlude: The Memory of the Wind and the Saint’s Oath

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Footsteps echoed softly down the hallway. Each time the chill of the stone floor seeped gently up through the soles of her feet, a faint warmth welled up in her chest. Her fingertips were still trembling slightly. Her face was probably still flushed red.

But—she was happy. Happy that she had finally become one with Valis last night. Happy that she had accepted him with this body of hers. The warmth of his touch, the words whispered beside her warm every bit of it still lingered within her.

She breathed in. Then out. And that alone nearly brought her to tears.

I can breathe properly now… Unlike back then.

There had been a time when she was afraid to even breathe. From the moment she could remember, some unknown illness had wracked her body, her coughing never stopped. Her throat constricted, her chest ached. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t draw air.

No one knew the cause of her sickness, and she had even screamed for someone to kill her. That was how much of a living hell it had been. And yet, her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Elfein, had never abandoned her.

Her mother had always held her hand by her bedside, while her father would lift her into his arms and reassure her, “You’ll be all right.” Their warmth had been real and unwavering. But the frightened looks from those around her had taught the young girl what despair truly meant.

And among all of them, there had been one exception, Reina. Golden hair. Blue, crystalline eyes. Perfect posture, impeccable speech. She was an ideal lady even at a young age. But to Milia, Reina had been far more than that.

“I’ll be fine. And besides, Milia isn’t sick at all! His Highness will fix everything, you’ll see!”

She had said that without hesitation, taking Milia’s hand—this hand everyone else had feared to touch. And despite her refined manners, Reina was always getting herself covered in dirt while swinging a wooden sword. When Milia had once asked why a marquis’s daughter—and future queen, no less—was training with a sword, Reina had proudly replied.

“His Highness is a brilliant man. Since I can’t aid him with wisdom, I’ll learn the sword so that I can protect him.”

That dignified look in her eyes had been dazzling, something Milia admired with all her heart. And those hands—bloodied and blistered from her training—had been the first she ever healed with Divine Arts. Her very first miracle had not been curing the butler’s illness, but mending Reina’s hands.

After that, Milia’s coughing had gradually subsided. Everyone said that it was the result of her awakening to Divine Arts and receiving the blessing of the gods, but Reina alone had thought differently.

“His Highness is cleansing the “wind” everywhere. The castle, the manor… Even the air feels different now.”

She had believed it wholeheartedly. And Milia, too, had come to believe that the “His Highness” Reina spoke of had truly changed the very wind that surrounded them. At ten years old, Milia had seen Prince Valis for the first time at a governmental meeting.

He was issuing precise instructions to elder nobles and calmly considering the nation’s future. That was the man who had given her the wind that freed her from hell. At that moment, she had fallen in love.

But Valis was Reina’s fiancé. Caught between love and friendship, Milia had suffered. So she had begged her father to let her study abroad in the Holy Kingdom of Verdia. Even if her love was unfulfilled, she had wished to gain the power to support the two of them from afar—as a saint who would never take another partner.

Her parents hadn’t opposed her. On the contrary, they had smiled and told her to follow her heart. They said that the family would continue even if they had to adopt a child from a branch line. Though she was the daughter of a matrilineal house whose name carried weight, her parents had laughed it off gently.

“It’s not such a difficult thing,” her father had said, smiling beside her mother. “After all, I’m a son-in-law myself.”

Even now, Milia could never forget how they had forgiven her selfish wish with smiles. Then, when she was fifteen and preparing to receive her formal recognition as a saint, Reina had suddenly appeared at her place of study.

“We’re going back to Alveria.”

She had declared with her head held high. The sight of her made Milia’s chest tighten painfully.

“Why… Why are you coming here with that face…?”

The feelings she had suppressed for so long finally overflowed.

“I’ve… I’ve always loved His Highness. Even though I know my dearest friend has loved him dearly since we were children, I can’t erase these selfish feelings…! Reina, I’ve watched you work so hard, I’ve wanted to cheer you on, and yet… I just can’t stop myself…!”

Even she hadn’t expected to see her friend break down and cry like that. But Reina had not flinched. She had met Milia’s anguish head-on. Her friend was always strong, proud, and beautiful.

“Of course, I have no intention of yielding His Highness to you. He is my fiancé, and I will be his rightful wife.”

After declaring that firmly, Reina had softened her expression and smiled.

“However, there is no rule that says only I may love His Highness, or that only I must be loved by him.”

Her voice had been gentle and calm.

“Tell me, Milia. If His Highness does not love only you, can you still go on loving him?”

Milia had been struck speechless. Faced with this person who still reached out to her, even after seeing all her ugliness, her cowardice, her contradictions—she had realized, from the bottom of her heart, that she had lost to Reina. And it had made her happy. Deeply, genuinely happy. So she had shaken her head through her tears, telling her that no, that wasn’t the case. She had thought.

My dearest friend has saved my love.

After that, she had returned home without completing her sainthood certification. She had vowed to repay the debt she owed—to her forgiving parents, and to her friend who had accepted her feelings with grace. And last night, under that same friend’s arrangement, Milia had finally united with Prince Valis.

“The rest is up to your charm, Milia. You don’t expect me to help you that far, do you?”

At Reina’s teasing words, she had smiled confidently and said she would be fine. But when Valis hadn’t come to her room that night, her hands had trembled with fear. It was only later that she realized his hesitation had come from his sincerity. And then, he had asked her…

“…Are you truly all right with that, Milia? Even if I’m not a man who will love only you?”

His first question had not been out of political caution toward the ducal house, nor out of consideration for his fiancée Reina. It had been to confirm her own feelings. And those words had been the same as what Reina had once told her. That truth had both tightened and warmed her heart.

I’m glad I fell in love with this man.

The man who had come with a beautiful wind and saved her. The man her dearest friend loved so deeply, who answered that love and changed the world itself. Her heart, her Divine Arts—they were all for Reina and Prince Valis.

For their sake, she would give not only her life, but even the Creator God if she could. She breathed in. It didn’t hurt. Her chest felt warm. Right now, there was no happiness greater than this anywhere in the world.

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