Brother Maxmillian's birthday was less than a month away.
And I, Liliane von Hohenberg, the Crown Princess-to-be, reformed version of the goddess of love, was sitting at the dining table staring at cake.
Yes, cake.
Not one, not two—five.
Strawberry cake, chocolate cake, cheesecake, peanut cake, and one whose flavor I didn't even know… maybe depression flavor with a powdered sugar topping.
"A gift… a gift…" I mumbled, spooning cream into my mouth.
Every time I thought of Brother Max, my head immediately turned into an empty, echoing room, like a royal hall during a social gathering that failed to attract important nobles.
I knew I was supposed to give him something meaningful. But what?
Money? Undignified.
A painting? I can't even draw a straight line without a ruler and a prayer.
A love letter? Disgusting.
I stared at the tea, which was starting to get cold.
"If only a gift could fall from the sky," I sighed. "Or at least appear in the middle of this cake, with a golden ribbon and a dramatic background song."
I stabbed the cake with a fork, as if hoping an idea would pop out of it like a birthday surprise.
Nothing. Just cream. And the taste of despair.
The maid near the door looked at me nervously.
I knew they were still afraid of me—even though I had been super nice this week.
I only made three people cry, and that wasn't because I was angry.
I just said, "You look tired, go rest," but maybe my expression was too much like a mafia boss about to fire someone.
Low whispers, like the sound of gossiping mice, came from outside:
"She's eating again."
"Five cakes, she says she's on a moral diet."
"Don't speak loudly, she'll hear you."
I snorted. "Your whispers can be heard all the way to the planet Saturn, you know!"
Immediate silence. Even my spoon froze mid-air.
I took a sip of tea, staring at the ceiling with an aesthetic sense of despair.
"I give up. Maybe I was simply born without the talent for gift-giving."
Yet my broken brain refused to surrender.
If I couldn't give a gift, at least I could look for inspiration, right?
And just like that, a foolish idea was born, one that probably deserves to be put on the list of '100 Worst Decisions of My Life.'
"Mary! Prepare my clothes for the market. I'm going to find inspiration."
"To the… market?" Mary looked at me with an expression of 'I'd rather die under a horse's hooves.' "But Mistress, the market is crowded, dusty, and—"
"Precisely! The more crowded, the more ideas!" I exclaimed, patting my chest, nearly spilling my tea.
"And don't dress me like a noble. I want to… disguise myself!"
A few minutes later, I stood in front of the mirror.
My blue hair was loosely braided, I wore a shabby brown cloak and a simple round hat.
Perfect—if you were colorblind and had lost your sense of taste.
"How do I look? I look like a commoner, right?"
Mary stared at me for a long time, then replied flatly, "More like a commoner who hasn't bathed in three days and slept in five."
I narrowed my eyes. "Be quiet. This is a romantic disguise. In novels, the heroine always wears shabby clothes when meeting her true love."
"Is the Mistress's true love… in the vegetable market?"
I stared at her blankly. "Mary, if you keep ruining my imagination, I'll curse you to be an extra character without any dialogue."
The carriage drove away from my father's residence.
I pressed my cheek against the window, enjoying the bright blue sky that looked utterly self-unaware.
Maybe I would find a cute gift for Max. Or at least find some delicious candy.
Optimism—the second most dangerous thing after my own ideas.
Until finally… my eyes landed on a large roadside sign that read:
BEWARE OF ROBBERS.
I looked at the sign with a stiff smile.
"Hey, that's just decoration, right? Some kind of… local style street art?"
One of the knights in front replied without emotion, "That's a real warning, Mistress."
I laughed nervously. "O-oh… real, huh. That's funny—AAA!!!"
The carriage suddenly stopped with a jolt. The horse neighed.
"ROBBERS!"
Mary and I stared at each other, both our faces looking like someone who just realized they forgot to turn off the stove.
"ROBBERS?!" I shrieked. "I don't want to die as a side character! I haven't even matched Tristan and Genevieve yet!"
"Calm down, Mistress!" Mary cried—in a tone as panicked as someone who just remembered their debt.
"HOW CAN I BE CALM?! If this were a novel, I would definitely die tragically from a stray arrow to the chest—in a spot that's expensive to fix!"
A fight broke out outside. The sound of clashing metal filled the air.
I stared out the window in panic, my hands trembling.
"My God, there are so many of them!" I gripped the seat. "Mary, it's time to pray."
Mary huddled down, hugging her bag. "I haven't even gotten married yet!"
"I also haven't had a handsome son who can inherit my beauty!" I retorted.
A knight shouted, "We will protect you, Mistress!"
"YES, THAT IS INDEED YOUR JOB!"
Then time slowed down.
Seriously. Everything went into slow motion, like the climax scene of a cheap action movie.
I saw one robber running toward us, carrying a knife.
"Mary… am I watching an action movie in slow motion?"
"No, Mistress… that's real…"
"Alright, in that case, I will scream in slow motion too."
"DOOON'T—"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
My screaming echoed so loud that even the birds in the trees flew away.
Mary joined in the screaming.
"KILL HIM!" I yelled from inside the carriage.
"CUT OFF HIS HEAD!"
"NO, DON'T CUT OFF HIS HEAD! THE SPLATTER WILL BE HARD TO WASH!"
"THEN WHAT SHOULD WE CUT, MISTRESS?!"
"I DON'T KNOW, BUT CUT SOMETHING!"
Suddenly—thump thump thump!—heavy footsteps were heard from behind.
I turned slowly.
A large robber appeared at the back door with a smile like a predator seeing overly innocent prey.
"Oh no…" I whispered. "Mary, he's behind us."
Mary stood in front of me heroically. "MISTRESS RUN! LET ME—"
But before she could finish, the robber pulled her and took her hostage.
"DON'T MOVE!"
Mary panicked but remained chatty, "Why are you threatening me?! My mistress won't give you anything! She's even stingy about giving me a bonus!"
I glared. "Mary!!"
"MISTRESS, SAVE MY LIFE! I STILL WANT TO GOSSIP TOMORROW!"
I stared at the robber. "Let her go, or I will…"
I stopped my sentence. There were no weapons around. All the knights were busy.
"…do something very dangerous."
"Dangerous?" He laughed. "You? With that tiny body?"
I stepped forward. "I am a great noble! And these shabby clothes are… a disguise!"
"A disguise?" He laughed harder. "You look like a failed beggar."
I pointed dramatically at his face. "Hey! This is the romantic disguise fashion! The version of the heroine who descended in rank for her true love! Don't insult my romantic literature!"
"Yes, stop insulting my mistress's fashion!" Mary chimed in, still held at knifepoint.
The bandit stared at Mary, then me. "She… your master?"
Mary quickly replied, "Unfortunately, yes."
I frowned. "Hey, can you not be honest right now?!"
Adrenaline suddenly took over.
I closed my eyes, raised my hand, and—BAM!—a punch landed right on his chin.
The robber immediately collapsed.
Silence. Everyone was stunned.
I stared at my own hand.
"…Wow."
Then I looked up at the sky, mouth wide open.
"I HAVE THE POWER OF A GODDESS!!!"
"Mistress, that's not the power of a goddess. That's the unexpected strength of a barbarian tribe," Mary commented flatly.
I ignored her and stood on the carriage seat, pointing at the enemy.
"TAKE THAT, YOU LOWLY ROBBER! THE FIST OF JUSTICE FROM A DESPERATE CUPID!"
Mary fell to her knees, trembling. "I… I'm alive…"
Unfortunately, the bandit I punched only stayed unconscious for a moment. He got up again, attacking from behind.
Reflexively, I shrieked and kicked wildly—and my kick… landed right between his legs.
BOOOMMMM!!!
Time stopped again.
His eyes widened, his body arched backward, and his breath came out like a fish running out of oxygen.
The knife fell. His face turned pale.
And he collapsed, clutching… the national sensitive area.
Total silence.
The birds stopped chirping. Even the wind refused to blow.
I stared at him in shock.
Mary stared at me in shock.
A knight outside stared with an expression of "what the hell just happened."
Mary whispered, "Mistress… You destroyed that man's two prized possessions."
I glared. "Seriously?!"
"Seriously. Both of them. I'm sure they've turned into scrambled eggs now."
I looked at the poor man, who was now curled up like a boiled shrimp, and yelled,
"TAKE THAT, YOU LUSTFUL VILLAIN! THIS IS HOW A GODDESS ACTS!"
Mary clapped her hands with a mixed expression of pride and trauma.
"Truly a heavenly barbaric punch that was… lineage-ending."
The bandit looked at me in horror, then screamed:
"RUN!!!"
And all the robbers fled while carrying him.
The knights were about to chase, but I raised my hand.
"Don't bother! Just let them go. I don't want Robbers Season 2 to appear."
One of the knights was still confused.
"I told you to let them. Besides, my strength just now probably only appeared because of panic. If I try again, I might just slap the air."
They all went silent.
I sat back down comfortably in the carriage seat, sipping the still-warm tea.
"Phew… the fist of a goddess, huh? Hmm, that sounds cool," I muttered, satisfied.
The carriage continued its journey.
And that was the story of the beginning of my search for inspiration for Brother Max's gift.
Unfortunately, I didn't realize—there was another pair of eyes watching all of it from a distance.