Chapter 3
Mirabel, who is supposed to marry a prince, apparently can tell fortunes too.
Clearing her throat softly, Mirabel adjusted her seat and began to speak, "First..."
"Celestia will get engaged at the age of seven. Her fiancé will be the second son of the marquis family, Floyd Armle."
Thanks to Grandfather, our family is a prestigious house trusted even by His Majesty the King. If it's the second son of a marquis family, he might be a plausible fiancé.
Since I'm an only daughter, we'll need a son-in-law to marry into the family, so the eldest son is out. Ideally, I'd avoid the second son too, since he's the spare heir.
Apparently, in Mirabel's mind, my engagement to Lord Floyd is already a done deal.
"But Floyd falls in love not with his fiancée, the older sister, but with me. He got engaged for the sake of his family, but then he experiences true love and suffers. And I'm the one who heals and supports him!"
"...Mirabel, do you like Lord Floyd?"
"Huh!? No! What are you even listening to!?"
It sounded just like a well-written romance novel, so I wondered if she was inserting herself and her beloved Lord Floyd into it.
"Mirabel, aren't you going to marry a prince?"
"That's right!"
"But Lord Floyd isn't royalty, so what will you do?"
For Mirabel, who came from a former baron family, even the second son of a marquis house would be considered a highly desirable match.
In the Armle family, sons other than the eldest typically join the knight order, so even if she married him, she wouldn't have to worry about her livelihood. There's also a chance he could be granted land and become a baron.
But even if it's the Armle family, he could never become royalty...
When I sighed, a cookie scattered on the table was thrown at me.
I caught it with my hand before it hit my face, and Mirabel stood there, dumbfounded in her throwing pose.
You shouldn't play with food, you know?
"N-Nothing! When I turn thirteen, I'll go to the academy in the Royal Capital, right? That's where I'll have a fateful encounter with the crown prince!"
It's true that from age thirteen to seventeen, we're supposed to attend the academy in the Royal Capital. That applies to royalty too, and if the ages match, we could even become schoolmates with the princes.
But what does she mean by a fateful encounter?
Even within the academy, royal family members have multiple guards.
In the case of the crown prince, anyone who becomes a classmate or even approaches him would undergo a background check and can't just casually get close.
Maybe a duke or marquis family could manage, but what about a count's family...?
I must have had a doubtful look on my face.
Mirabel, who was biting into a scone overloaded with jam, furrowed her brows.
"...Mm, the crown prince will fall in love with me at first sight."
Mirabel, still munching, didn't seem to notice the jam stuck to her mouth. She looked adorable—in the endearing way little girls do.
Even if she says the thirteen-year-old Mirabel will be loved at first sight, unless she becomes the most beautiful woman in the country over the next few years, it seems impossible.
If that's the case, it'd be more realistic to gain enough knowledge to impress and become a candidate for a close aide...
"Seeing me torn between the crown prince and Floyd, many other wonderful men will fall in love with me too!"
With a triumphant smile, I wondered if Mirabel even understood what social status differences meant.
Mirabel isn't related by blood to Father, so she can't inherit the count family. Even if Lord Floyd, as a son-in-law, fell for Mirabel, unless he's a fool, he wouldn't pursue his fiancée's younger sister.
Being chosen by the crown prince... that only happens in fairy tales.
Coming from a newly risen noble family, originally barons, even if she caught his eye, the people around them would oppose it, and at best, she'd end up as a low-ranking concubine or mistress.
But if her goal is marriage, then maybe she wouldn't mind being a concubine or mistress.
I felt like she was still going on about something, but I just sipped my tea calmly, nodding along, thinking that daydreams are free.