TOPWL 115

A Nanny’s Tragic End — The Prince Laughed in Bloom

[As the fever for the upcoming swordsmanship tournament sweeps through the Empire, a shocking tragedy has unfolded in District 3 of Bern, involving Prince Yudit Friedrich Adanauer (hereafter “Prince Yudit”). The elderly nanny who had served him faithfully for years took her own life before his very eyes — abandoned and heartbroken.

The nanny had been a devoted caretaker for over a decade, even after the death of Prince Yudit’s birth mother, Siena Issen Adanauer. Yet what awaited her in old age was not gratitude, but a cold dismissal from the prince himself.

Much like a knight cast aside by the lord he served, the nanny, who had lived her entire life in the palace by the prince’s side, had no path left but death. Just days ago, she reportedly knelt before the prince at the lavish inn where he resides, begging to be reinstated. Not only did the prince reject her plea, but he allegedly had her thrown out by his attendants. Wandering the streets in frail health, the nanny ultimately ended her life in front of him, bringing the curtain down on this cruel tale.

Eyewitnesses at the scene claim the nanny cried out for help in her final moments, but Prince Yudit did not bat an eye. That same evening, the prince was seen laughing and mingling at a scheduled event, further fueling public outrage with his callous indifference.

This incident will not be dismissed as a personal tragedy alone. For many, it is unthinkable that a prince could turn his back on a woman who had served him so loyally, casting her aside simply for growing old. The public fury continues to rise.

How will Prince Yudit explain this tragic death? And is such a man truly fit to lead the Empire into the future? The people of Adanauer must ask themselves.]

“Damn it.”

Khalid didn’t even finish reading the last line before he crumpled the newspaper and hurled it into the fireplace. The still-warm paper, fresh from the morning press, caught fire between the logs and disappeared in seconds.

In the end, the last two newspapers hadn’t yielded. This was the result. Out of 34 newspapers, only two had refused—but one of them was among the capital’s most prominent.

Khalid bit down on his lip in frustration. He had wanted to do everything for him, but in the end, he’d managed nothing at all.

Should he have pushed harder? Reginald probably would have run the article regardless, but the thought that he might have done more dug into him like splinters.

While he was still immersed in the bitterness of defeat, a knock came at the door. Thinking it was a subordinate reporting in, Khalid called out.

“Come in.”

But the one who entered was someone wholly unexpected. Yudit stood there in a neat outfit, though Khalid had left him to rest, assuming he’d sleep in after a restless dawn. Khalid couldn’t hide his surprise.

And with good reason—he had bought every copy of every newspaper that slandered Yudit the moment the sun rose. Now, his room was stacked with them. No matter the reason, it was not a pleasant sight.

“Is there something you need?”

“There’s something I wanted to talk about… and I heard you were here.”

Yudit looked slowly around the room filled with papers and picked one up. Of all the newspapers he could’ve chosen, it was that one. Khalid covered his face with his hand.

“You don’t need to read it. It’s all nonsense.”

But Yudit quietly read it from start to finish. Then, taking in the state of the room once more, he said:

“You’ve been… having a hard time. Because of me.”

He had figured everything out in that short span, and a pained expression crossed his face. Khalid, who hated seeing that look more than anything, bit the inside of his cheek.

“Only two newspapers published the story about you and the nanny. I gave orders to buy every copy the moment they came out, but they came prepared. Honestly, I’m not sure what will happen.”

At Khalid’s honest confession, Yudit blinked slowly, then stepped forward.

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done.”

He pulled Khalid into a hug. Khalid stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed in the warmth and closed his eyes.

The two stepped out for a late breakfast and were met with a surprising stillness in town. There were far fewer people out than usual. Even many of the street stalls were closed. It was already past ten in the morning—too late for them to be merely not open yet.

Yudit turned to Khalid, wondering if he knew the reason, but the other looked just as puzzled.

“That one’s open.”

Yudit pointed toward a food stall that served bread soaked in soup and topped with sesame seeds. A long line stretched before it, full of people likely inconvenienced by the many closed stalls.

Did they go on strike because of me?

A spike of fear pierced Yudit’s chest. As they joined the line, he shuffled closer to Khalid and whispered,

“Is it… because of me?”

Though Yudit had clearly spoken, Khalid didn’t answer. When Yudit turned to him in confusion, he looked a little troubled.

“I’m not sure. But it’s not impossible.”

At those words, Yudit felt as if his heart had dropped to the floor. His face drained of color, and seeing this, Khalid asked in alarm.

“What’s wrong?”

“Because of me…”

“We don’t know for certain yet.”

Khalid gently pulled him into an embrace, patting his back as he spoke.

“It’s natural to be worried.”

“It’s something I have to accept,” Yudit murmured.

“Hm?”

Khalid blinked at his words.

“And it’s not like they’re wrong…”

“Wait, I think there’s some kind of misunderstanding between us.”

“…What?”

Khalid stared at Yudit with a baffled expression.

“So, you think people are on strike because they hate you?”

“…Then what did you think?” Yudit asked quietly.

“I…”

“Prince Yudit—!”

Just then, someone came running while calling his name. It was the village chief, arms waving frantically. For someone who usually went out of his way to avoid Yudit and Khalid, this kind of behavior could only mean trouble. Red-faced and breathless, the chief came to a halt before them. Unable to wait any longer, Yudit spoke first.

“If it’s about the newspapers—”

“What are we going to do, Your Highness? The villagers…!”

***

Yudit sat nervously in the carriage, staring out the window. With the swordsmanship tournament drawing near, the capital was packed. He had thought the increase in patrol sectors would help, but compared to the capital, it was nothing. As anxiety welled up, he unconsciously bit his lip—until Khalid gently rested a hand on his thigh and shook his head. Yudit gave him a sheepish look.

Finally, the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the constabulary. Before Khalid could even offer his hand, Yudit jumped out and rushed inside. What greeted him inside left him utterly stunned.

He recognized almost everyone there—from the slums, Hess, the innkeeper, Brown, even the village chief’s brother. All of them locked behind bars, all of them yelling indignantly.

“It was the newspaper’s fault for printing lies without checking the facts! Why are we the ones arrested?”

“Our prince isn’t someone who would do that!”

“That’s right! His Highness is a good man!”

“Enough already. If you keep shouting like that, we’ll have no choice but to extend your detention.”

One of the constables looked visibly exasperated, glaring at the noisy prisoners. Then one of the detained, catching sight of the open door, spoke up.

“Your Highness?”

All eyes turned to Yudit—villagers and guards alike. A moment later, the prisoners grabbed the bars and erupted in cheers.

“It’s His Highness!”

“He’s here!”

More than forty people were crammed into the narrow space, all calling out to him. Finally, one of the guards, fed up, banged a baton on the bars and shouted.

“Quiet! This is your warning—one more outburst and you’ll be in here another week!”

Only then did the noise begin to die down. A man who seemed to be the head officer approached Yudit and asked:

“Are you Prince Yudit Friedrich Adanauer?”

“I am,” Yudit replied with a nod.

The man let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m Captain Hansen Berck of the constabulary. If you’re willing, may I request a brief conversation?”

Yudit, tense at the rare display of courtesy, nodded silently.

“Don’t you treat our prince badly!”

“We won’t stand for it—!”

The villagers began raising their voices again. Hansen grimaced. Yudit hesitated for a moment, then asked:

“May I speak with them for a moment first?”

“Yes, of course.”

Hansen nodded quickly—perhaps hoping the prince would help calm the chaos. As he approached the detainees, Yudit lowered his voice so Hansen wouldn’t hear and asked:

“Who led you all here?”