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{Ember POV}
"Your Highness, just like this—nock the arrow onto the bowstring, close one eye, aim carefully, and then release," the instructor said, demonstrating the technique for me with practiced ease.
He pulled back the bowstring smoothly, and the arrow sailed through the air, hitting the center of the target perfectly.
"Now, Your Highness, it's your turn," he said, stepping back slightly and giving me space.
I nodded confidently, trying to mirror his movements as best as I could.
Carefully, I nocked an arrow onto the bowstring, my small hands trembling slightly as I adjusted my grip.
I closed one eye, focusing intently on the target in front of me, and then, with a deep breath, I released the arrow.
Unfortunately, it didn't go as planned.
The arrow whizzed past the target, missing it entirely and striking just beside it.
I felt a flicker of disappointment, but before I could dwell on it, the instructor remained calm, his expression unreadable.
"Do not be discouraged, Your Highness," he said gently, reassuring me with a slight nod.
"It was your first attempt, and learning archery takes time and patience."
I nodded in acknowledgment, trying to steady my nerves.
A soldier standing nearby handed me another arrow, and I took it with gratitude.
As I prepared to nock it onto the bowstring, the instructor—Noel—stepped closer and placed his hand over mine, adjusting my grip slightly.
"Your Highness," he began softly, guiding me carefully, "depending on the type of bow, the distance to the target, and other factors, the way you aim must change accordingly. Every bow has its own characteristics, and understanding that is key to becoming proficient."
He demonstrated the adjustment by slightly shifting my aim, and then leaned closer to whisper, "Now… release it."
I did as he instructed. This time, the arrow sliced through the air gracefully, and with a satisfying thud, it struck the center of the target dead-on.
"That was excellent, Your Highness," Noel said with a proud smile.
"Now, all you need to do is practice consistently what I have just taught you."
I nodded eagerly, feeling a surge of confidence.
"Thank you, Noel," I said sincerely, bowing my head slightly.
He returned my smile warmly before stepping back, allowing me to have the space to continue practicing on my own.
The soldier standing beside me, ever diligent, handed me yet another arrow.
"Here, Your Highness," he said politely.
I took the arrow carefully, nocked it onto the bowstring, adjusted my stance, and aimed at the target once more.
My small hands tightened around the grip, and I drew back the string, focused entirely on the target.
Then, with a controlled release, I let the arrow fly once again, ready to see if my improvement would continue.
The arrow whizzed through the air once again, striking the target.
It didn't hit the exact center this time, but it was an enormous improvement compared to my very first shot.
I felt a small surge of pride and excitement at seeing the result.
Noel clapped his hands together, giving me an encouraging smile.
"Give me another arrow," I said eagerly.
The soldier standing beside me immediately handed me a fresh arrow, and I carefully nocked it onto the bowstring.
I aimed once more, released, and the arrow flew with increasing accuracy.
Again and again, I repeated the process—arrow after arrow, each shot improving slightly from the last.
I could feel the tension in my muscles as I concentrated harder and harder with every release.
Time seemed to slip by unnoticed, and before I realized it, the sun had begun to dip low on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
It was already evening, and I was still at the target range, absorbed in the rhythm of aiming, nocking, and releasing.
By now, sweat had begun to bead on my forehead and trickle down my face.
"Your Highness!" I heard Remia's voice call out, startling me slightly.
I hadn't even noticed when she had arrived, but judging by her calm demeanor, she must have come not long ago.
She quickly moved to my side, carrying a soft, expensive-looking cloth.
With gentle hands, she began to wipe the sweat from my face and hands, making sure I was comfortable.
Once she finished, I smiled at her and said sincerely, "Thanks, Remia."
She simply nodded, clearly pleased with my words.
It was no surprise to her, or to the maids and even the instructor, that I was consistently polite and courteous.
Though, as a member of the Royal Family, I technically had no obligation to thank anyone—after all, they were well-compensated for their work—I always chose to show appreciation.
A simple 'thank you' was my way of acknowledging their effort and dedication, and I genuinely liked seeing their reactions.
"I guess that will be all for today, Your Highness," Noel said after a moment, smiling warmly.
"Your performance today was indeed spectacular. It seems you are a natural when it comes to archery—a true prodigy."
I nodded politely, accustomed to such flattery.
I didn't consider myself a god-gifted genius, though.
I had just started learning archery, using a specially crafted bow designed for my size and strength.
The targets were positioned relatively close, and once I understood the mechanics of the bow and the proper aiming technique, hitting them became much easier.
So yes, I wasn't some world-shattering, legendary archery genius.
But I knew I had considerable potential, especially for someone my age.
My performance was impressive enough to reflect my hard work and natural aptitude, though not so extraordinary as to be unbelievable.
Part of my advantage came from being an Elf.
Our race is naturally gifted with exceptional eyesight, acute hearing, and a more flexible, agile body.
There's a reason Elves are often called the Proud Archers of the Forest—more commonly, they're known simply as Forest Archers.
The word 'proud' was often added by us because of the arrogance that sometimes comes with such exceptional skill, but in truth, it reflected their confidence rather than mere conceit.
"Thanks, Noel, for today. And you as well," I said, turning to the soldier who had assisted me.
The young man's face turned bright red at my words, and he immediately knelt, overwhelmed by the compliment.
"Your Highness! It brings me immense joy to know that you would consider my humble efforts worthy of praise," he said earnestly.
I nodded with a smile.
These reactions had become normal for me now.
I wouldn't say I loved the attention, but it was undeniably pleasant.
In my previous life, no one had ever treated my wishes and desires with such care, and I had come to appreciate it deeply.
That said, I knew that even this kind of constant attention could become tiresome over decades.
Anything too much—or too little—can become a burden.
Shaking off these thoughts, I took Remia's hand, letting her guide me back to the Royal Palace.
I was seven years old now, and ever since turning five, I had started walking on my own whenever I needed to go somewhere.
Being carried constantly, whether in Remia's arms or Riveria's, had felt comforting at first, but it was impractical.
I couldn't always rely on others to carry me, no matter how willing they were.
So, eventually, I had made the decision to stop being carried and start walking independently.
Even if it felt a bit annoying at times, I knew it was necessary.
It gave me freedom, autonomy, and a sense of responsibility, small as it might seem for a child of my age.
Walking alongside Remia, I felt the subtle pride of self-reliance settle within me, a feeling that I knew would only grow stronger with time.
"Your Highness, did you enjoy the training?" Remia asked, her voice calm yet filled with genuine curiosity.
I nodded with a bright smile and replied enthusiastically, "It was fun! Archery was really fun!"
My voice carried more confidence and maturity than before, a subtle reflection of the growth I had undergone over the past few years.
Remia, however, responded with a soft, almost melancholic smile, one that immediately caught my attention.
"What's the matter, Remia?" I asked gently, as we reached the castle gate.
The soldiers standing at attention performed their ceremonial salute, showing the utmost respect as the gates opened for us.
Once we stepped inside, Remia spoke again, her voice quieter this time.
"It's nothing, Your Highness… It's just that—you've grown up. Compared to before, you don't require nearly as much assistance from me anymore."
I let out a small sigh at her words, understanding the unspoken sentiment behind them.
I held her hand a little tighter, reassuringly, and said sincerely, "It doesn't matter, Remia. You are still my personal maid, and you always will be."
Her eyes widened slightly, and a soft blush spread across her cheeks.
She muttered almost dreamily, "~Oh my, my… Is Your Highness proposing to me? But I already have a husband, what should I do?~"
My face became deadpan.
Ah, there she went again, lost in her own little world. Seeing her daze off completely, I let go of her hand and, ignoring her playful musings, turned toward the grand staircase and began running up it.
"Wait a minute! Your Highness, you shouldn't run like that!" Remia called after me, alarmed.
I grinned mischievously over my shoulder and shouted, "Get me if you can!!"
With that, I dashed down the long corridor, my small feet tapping against the polished floor as I sped along.
Physically, I had improved significantly with my age.
My endurance and speed were noticeably better than before, though I knew I was still no match for Remia in a direct contest.
She was an adult, after all, and far stronger than I could hope to be at my age.
However, she wore the long, flowing uniform of a maid, and its fabric hindered her movement, slowing her down just enough for me to gain a small advantage.
As we charged through the twisting corridors, I took sharp turns, weaving in and out with as much agility as I could muster.
Suddenly, I saw someone walking down the next corridor.
I instinctively slowed to avoid colliding, thinking we would pass without incident.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans.
I barely had time to utter a half-spoken warning when Remia, still in full pursuit, crashed directly into the Elf, sending him tumbling backward to the floor with a loud thud.
Remia herself went sprawling on top of him, the force of the collision leaving both of them flat on the ground.
"Huh?! What's the meaning of this?!" the Elf shouted angrily, his voice echoing down the hallway.
A soldier who had been accompanying him quickly stepped forward to help him to his feet.
Remia's face turned pale as she scrambled to her own feet, muttering apologies under her breath.
Meanwhile, I sighed quietly, thinking to myself, 'Can it get any more cliché than this? Wait… it is an isekai world. This world is itself a cliché.'
I had read this trope countless times in novels, yet despite its predictability, countless stories continued to follow it.
Simple—many of these clichés exist for a reason.
They are based on events that occur frequently in real life.
Either way, it was not amusing to experience it firsthand, especially knowing I was now part of the story rather than just observing it.
(A/N: Bro shush, don't break the 4th wall)
"I-I apologize, Sir! It was my fault! I didn't see you coming!" Remia said quickly, bowing deeply in her usual polite manner.
Her voice trembled slightly with genuine worry, but I knew the truth: depending on who the offended person was, Remia could potentially lose her position.
That was something I absolutely would never allow to happen.
"Sir Selland, is there a problem?" my father asked, stepping forward.
He was followed closely by a soldier, his expression calm but commanding.
The Elf in question, visibly agitated, began to explain.
"Indeed, Your Majesty! This insolent maid suddenly crashed into me without warning! I was walking calmly through the corridor when she came running and collided directly against me!" His tone carried anger and indignation, clearly emphasizing the severity of the situation as he glared at Remia.
Remia kept her head bowed low, unable to meet his eyes.
My father, however, fixed her with a questioning gaze.
"Is that true, Remia?" he asked in his calm, commanding voice.
She nodded quietly in response, bracing herself for what might come next.
Before my father could say anything further, I stepped forward, determined to intervene.
"Father, it's my fault. I was the one playing with Remia," I said bluntly, refusing to let her bear the blame.
"Ember, you were playing… inside the castle grounds?" my father asked, his voice cold and measured.
I nodded firmly.
"Yes. Remia was only following me. It wasn't her fault at all—she was simply performing her duties. Sir, I apologize for my mistake," I added, turning my gaze to the Elf and bowing slightly in respect.
The Elf's expression shifted slightly, his anger softening as he processed my words.
"I… Fine. Considering His Highness admitted that it was his fault, it would indeed be embarrassing for me to place blame on either him or the maid," he said quickly, his tone a mixture of relief and frustration.
"Sir Selland, still, this maid stepped outside her proper boundaries. If you wish, I can have her dismissed immediately," my father said calmly, though his words carried an unspoken weight.
He was essentially offering the Elf the option to remove Remia from her position.
Once dismissed by the King, her life in Alf's Forest would become exceptionally difficult, to say the least.
"No, Your Majesty. There is no need for you to take any action," the Elf said hurriedly, bowing deeply.
"His Highness has already apologized to me, and it would be inappropriate and rude of me to pursue this matter any further."
My father let out a soft sigh of understanding.
"I see," he said, his voice carrying a faint note of relief.
Soon after, the Elf took his leave, bowing once again to show respect.
Once the corridor was empty, my father turned to me, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gave me a cold, measured gaze.
"What is the meaning of this, Ember?" he asked, clearly seeking an explanation.
I stood firm in front of Remia, ready to defend her.
"Father," I said earnestly, "I am willing to accept any punishment for my actions, but letting Remia take the blame would make me ashamed. It would not be right for me—or for anyone in the Royal Family—to allow that to happen."
My father exhaled slowly, clearly reflecting on my words.
Then he asked, his tone now more curious than reprimanding, "Do you know who that man was?"
I shook my head, admitting my ignorance.
"No, Father. I don't know who he was."
"He was the King of the White Elves, ruler of an island nation known as Hjaðningavíg," my father explained, his voice calm but carrying authority.
"Though it is a relatively small kingdom, he is a king nonetheless. He did not come here for a trivial reason. His visit was specifically to discuss a matter with us and to propose future cooperation. He and his people hold the Alf family in great respect, which is why this visit is significant."
I processed his words slowly, realizing just how serious the situation could have become if I had allowed Remia to take the blame.
The weight of my responsibilities—and the importance of my actions—hit me more clearly than ever before.
He stared at me with a firm gaze and said, "He came all the way from his island to visit us, and yet he had to leave like that. What you did absolutely warrants punishment. That is why, for the next month, you shall be placed under house arrest. Use this time to repent and reflect upon your mistakes!"
I bowed deeply and replied respectfully, "As you say, Father."
He turned around but glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes meeting mine with authority.
"Know this, Ember: I am not giving you this punishment as your father. I am giving it to you as your King."
"I apologize, then, yes, Your Majesty," I responded calmly, bowing once more.
He gave a final nod and left, his presence fading from the corridor.
As soon as he was gone, Remia approached me, her arms wrapping around me from behind in a comforting hug.
"Your Highness, why did you take the blame? Now your reputation might suffer a hit," she said, her voice tinged with worry.
I turned toward her, noticing her eyes were glistening with moisture, tears running down her cheeks.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out a clean handkerchief, and gently wiped away her tears.
"Don't cry, Remia," I said softly, trying to soothe her.
"It was just a small mistake. There's no need to stain your face with tears over something like this. It was my fault from the start. Besides, it doesn't matter if my reputation takes a hit. I am only seven years old. Most people will simply write it off as me being a rebellious child or mischievous in some way."
She nodded, clutching me even tighter.
"I am truly lucky to serve you, Your Highness," she whispered, her voice filled with sincere affection.
"And I am equally lucky to have you as my maid," I replied with a warm smile.
For a moment, she seemed to gather all her energy and suddenly attacked me with a flurry of kisses across my cheeks.
"Muah! Muah! Muah! You are so cute, Your Highness!" she exclaimed gleefully, leaving multiple lipstick marks all over my face.
If I were older, anyone seeing this might assume something scandalous had occurred, but for now, it was just her way of showing affection.
'Well, at least she's better now,' I thought, feeling relieved.
However, as I reflected on the events that had just transpired, a frown crept across my face.
'Selland? Where have I heard that name before?'
I thought carefully for a moment, and suddenly it clicked.
'Isn't that the surname of Hedian Selland? One of the executives of the Freya Familia?'
If my assumptions were correct, that man—or perhaps his father—was the same person I had collided with earlier.
'I need to quickly make a written record of all the Danmachi-related events,' I decided, mentally prioritizing the task.
I was grateful that I had taken the time to read the two main Danmachi novels, as well as the side story manga.
Without that knowledge, I wouldn't even have had a clue about who that man could have been.
Since I was now under house arrest—a formal, more dignified way of saying I was grounded for a month—I had plenty of time to begin writing a detailed diary.
It was still frustrating, however, because I had just started learning Archery.
I was extremely eager to reach the level of the future Riveria, where she could shoot three arrows simultaneously at targets placed incredibly far away.
I knew the path to that skill would require constant practice, yet now, my freedom to do so was temporarily restricted.
Eventually, I was escorted back to my room to rest.
After settling in, I took a bath, with Remia assisting me as she had done for years.
Bathing remained one of the many tasks she helped me with, and I knew she would continue assisting me with it for the next several years.
To be continued…
{A/N: Please read the warning before proceeding.
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