Published: January 4, 2026
The person who had insulted me naturally lost their place and disappeared from the venue before I even noticed.
Meanwhile, Raidok kept introducing guests to me one after another.
Most were insignificant, just ordinary people of the upper class, but there was one pair of man and woman who caught my eye.
The man was in his forties, dressed unmistakably like a merchant. At gatherings like this, it’s important to be able to recognize someone's status and occupation at a glance.
The woman was about ten years old, dressed up in an elegantly simple dress that seemed a bit too mature for her age.
That pair.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I’m Byron Allan, and this is my daughter Cindy. Please remember us,” the man said.
“Hmm. Is that girl your adopted daughter or something?” I pointed out.
Byron’s face stiffened for a moment.
“Y-you knew?”
“No,” I said.
But from my past life experience, I could just tell.
A man in his forties and a girl around ten — they didn’t look like parent and child at all.
“I can tell just by looking.”
“Oh? As expected of Your Highness. Could you kindly teach me how you know this, for my enlightenment?”
Byron was confused, but Raidok remained calm as ever.
He skillfully interjected and kept the conversation going.
“Alan, you’re the second or third generation, right?”
“Y-yes, that’s correct.”
“I thought so. Your mannerisms feel like those of someone born into the upper class. But that girl lacks that.”
Because I’d been reincarnated as Prince Thirteen — an aristocrat among aristocrats — and retained my memories from my previous life, I could tell the difference between someone born into nobility and someone who wasn’t just by their movements.
I sensed it and pointed it out.
Then Third Prime Minister Raidok smiled cheerfully.
“I see! As expected of Your Highness. I am deeply impressed by your insight.”
“And while we’re at it—”
“You have more to say?”
“She’s a slave, isn’t she?”
“Y-yes.”
“What! You can tell that far?”
“Yeah.”
This was about her eyes.
Anyone who has been reduced to slavery even once carries a distinct, wary gaze.
Byron, having had his daughter perfectly read, seemed to let go of his worries and began speaking more calmly than before.
“We bought this girl from a slave trader. Unlike the others, she’s smart, so we adopted her and are teaching her various things.”
“I see. I like that kind of thing.”
The moment I said that, a murmur ran through the crowd.
Ignoring it, I continued.
“I’ll invite you to my residence. Let me hear more about her story.”
“—! Haha, with pleasure!”
Byron bowed deeply in delight, attracting envious glances from everyone around him.
He was the Cinderella boy of the party, favored by Prince Thirteen (me).
Byron was smart.
Any more praise would only stir jealousy and possibly displease me.
He took his daughter and quickly moved away from the center of the circle.
“Prime Minister Raidok, there’s another reason I knew that child wasn’t his real daughter.”
“Oh? What might that be?”
“Look.”
I tilted my chin, and at that moment, Cindy suddenly turned around.
“She looked this way.”
“She reacted only to that threat. From the first threat onward, she protected Byron with her body.”
“Ohhh.”
“Girls of that age—”
“I see. Girls of that age don’t usually protect their parents with their lives. They’re the ones being protected.”
“Exactly.”
“So you’d been watching that from the start. I’m impressed by Your Highness’s wide perspective.”
Raidok lined up his compliments, and I smiled slightly before resuming the introductions of other guests.
☆
The next day, at Prince Thirteen’s residence.
After breakfast, I stepped out into the garden to stretch when one of the maids approached.
A familiar face — a maid named Zoe.
“Master.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“I have received a thank-you gift from the Third Prime Minister. How would you like to proceed?”
Zoe said, handing me an envelope.