Resetting Lady

“…Wow, this is crazy. Does His Majesty even know how old the prince is?”

Marquis Penceir looked at Prince Lewis with his mouth agape. It had been a long time since he had seen his godson, but his shock left Lewis feeling a little embarrassed. The target of Penceir’s anger, however, was Lewis’s grandfather, the king.

“Marquis Penceir, please be careful with your words.”

“My words… huh… Lewis, do you know who I am?”

“You just said it. You’re my godfather and the Marquis of Penceir. Don’t be so reckless.”

“The last time we met, you called me Pancake. Now you’re all formal—it feels distant… But more than that, you’ve gotten so thin. Are you eating well?”

Seeing the marquis flustered, Lewis laughed.

“And what’s with that tone? It sounds odd.”

“…At least you haven’t completely lost your senses.”

“Marquis, even if His Highness is your nephew, he is still a prince. You’re being far too informal.”

Marquis Penceir sighed, placing his hands on the shoulders of his godson and nephew, Prince Lewis.

“This is… truly too much of His Majesty.”

Lewis had grown tall for his age, but his face was pale, devoid of vitality. His young face was marked with fatigue far beyond his years.

The fact that everyone around him was elderly had affected his speech and posture, making him seem older than he was, despite being not even ten years old. If Marquis Penceir noticed this, it would be even more apparent to other noble children his age.

The marquis understood why the king was doing this.

It was because Crown Prince Gueuze, who was supposed to become king, was going too far. The number of bodies accumulating in his private quarters was increasing, and his days lost to violence and drug-induced stupor were growing longer.

If he had completely degenerated into a ruin of a man, they could at least have deposed him quickly, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, Gueuze had been selling positions for money, filling key roles with his own lackeys. Even noble titles were either stripped away or sold off by the crown prince.

Grumblings of discontent were beginning to rise even among the common folk. Fifty years ago, such voices could have been ignored, but times had changed. With the advent of railroads, industrialization and commerce, some people among the populace had amassed wealth on par with the royal family and the nobility.

Their voices could no longer be ignored, but Gueuze was far too lacking to confront these challenges. His vices—murder, drugs, rape—were numerous, and he had almost no capable individuals loyal to him.

The timing was poor. What the kingdom needed was a wise and strong king. The only thing keeping the growing unrest from boiling over was the long and stable rule of the current king, who had reigned for more than fifty years. The people of the country had grown used to his leadership over this half-century.

The idea of a new king felt inconceivable to the populace, and the respect for the current king was immense.

However, if Gueuze became king, the situation would spiral out of control. His sordid hobbies would provide ample ammunition for those opposed to the monarchy.

It was an era of frequent international wars. Just beyond the mountains, battles raged, and the neighboring country had long coveted the borders of this kingdom. The likelihood of this country being engulfed in flames was very high. And despite this looming threat, no one had been able to push for Gueuze’s deposition and the establishment of a strong monarchy. Gueuze was the only prince.

But now there was Prince Lewis.

A legitimate heir, a bright boy.

‘But he’s too young!’

Marquis Penceir sighed. The current king was too old, and Prince Lewis was too young. He was only eight years old.

The marquis understood why the king was eager to raise and educate Lewis as quickly as possible, but looking at the boy—cooped up in his room, talking only to old men and reading books—it didn’t seem like he would live long at this rate.

‘There isn’t enough time… No matter how hard they try, this boy won’t reach adulthood any faster.’

For Lewis to become an adult and fully assume his role, at least ten more years were needed.

However, even at 18, Lewis would still be barely shedding his youthful innocence. While young heroes might emerge beyond the war-torn mountains, in this nation, which maintained peace—at least outwardly—more time was needed to ensure a stable succession to the throne.

Even the king was old, and all the retainers had been serving for far too long. You could feel the slow decay of the palace without even having to see it.

At least twenty more years were needed. Prince Lewis wouldn’t be properly recognized as king until he was around twenty-eight. Ten years wasn’t enough. It would take 15 years before he could even begin to shake off his inexperience. And book knowledge alone was not enough to govern a country. The world was far from kind.

‘It would be better if… I took over instead.’

Marquis Penceir shook his head. Although he was a close relative and the next in line after Crown Prince Gueuze, if he were to inherit the throne, it would create issues for Prince Lewis as he matured. If the throne passed to Penceir, Lewis might not be able to reclaim it through legitimate means, nor would Penceir be able to abdicate easily.

The most stable option was clear: to support Prince Lewis and place him on the throne, even at a young age.

But Lewis was still too young. Children could die from something as simple as a cold. Though the prince had passed the most vulnerable stage at eight years old, it still didn’t seem likely that he would make it to adulthood at this rate. He wasn’t eating properly, nor was he getting adequate exercise. And his social connections were also problematic.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

“I’m thinking about how best to prepare Your Highness to be king.”

“That’s still a long way off. Everyone, from His Majesty to you, Marquis… You all seem to be rushing things. You all should take it slower.”

Marquis Penceir looked down at Lewis, initially thinking it was just the naive comment of a child. But when he saw the serious expression on the prince’s face, he realized Lewis was far more mature than he had anticipated.

“…You understand the situation.”

“How could I not? My teachers constantly hint at it in passing.”

Lewis knew that the king was preparing to make him king in place of Crown Prince Gueuze. He wasn’t naïve enough to overlook the implications of skipping a generation for the throne. Lewis understood that his father, Gueuze, was his enemy and that they could never reconcile. He also knew that his death would only please Gueuze. Thus, he didn’t have the luxury to act like a child.

“I can’t help but know…”

Marquis Penceir thought that the prince needed a teacher who could instruct him in the handling of firearms.

* * *

“This is Sir Raymond. He will be Your Highness’s shooting instructor. What do you think?”

“It’s an honor, Your Highness.”

He was a tall and handsome man.

Having been surrounded by older men for so long, Lewis was struck by the fresh presence of this young man. There were no young people around Lewis. Even his bodyguards were middle-aged, and Marquis Penceir was of the same generation as Crown Prince Gueuze.

“Nice to meet you, Sir Raymond.”

Lewis extended his hand. The handshake was firm and warm. The young man had a slight resemblance to Crown Prince Gueuze in the jawline and eyes, but he was full of kindness and sincerity. He looked like the very embodiment of an ideal man—healthy, gentle, and strong.

He was everything Lewis wanted to be.

***

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