**Stalker Duchess Episode 6**
"Get out."
The Crown Prince spat the words without even looking up from his papers, somehow knowing it was me who'd entered.
His voice held no doubt that the one opening the door was me. After all, I was the only one he treated with such open hostility.
"Your Highness."
Ignoring his order to leave, I approached and called out to him. He merely turned his glare from the papers to me.
Seeing me right in front of him, Raven spoke in a voice thick with displeasure.
"You, always acting out of character with that 'Your Highness'? Don't pretend to be polite now. Your fake remorse is disgusting and creepy."
"Is that so? Then... Raven?"
The moment his name left my lips, he wrinkled his brow as if nauseated.
If it bothered him that much, why had he insisted I call him by name in the first place?
Truly, you could never predict a young person's thoughts.
"...Lord Raven."
"......"
Adding the honorific softened the Crown Prince's expression slightly.
But he still looked clearly upset.
"......"
The Crown Prince was trying to feign composure, but he'd been rattled since I appeared.
From the moment I opened the door, he'd pretended to focus indifferently on his papers, but his calm had shattered long ago.
Whether it was anger toward me or fear from trauma, I couldn't tell.
The Crown Prince never showed agitation or anxiety on his face usually, but I immediately noticed he was shaken.
It was a subtle change most wouldn't catch without sharp eyes, but I spotted it thanks to the papers under his arm.
"This seems wrong."
"What?"
"The spelling..."
I pointed to the messily written document. It looked fine up to the middle, but the recent part was a disaster.
He'd clearly been so rattled by my arrival that he hadn't noticed his mistake.
I wasn't one to kindly point out others' errors usually, but since it was my fault, I didn't want him blaming me later.
His gaze followed my finger instinctively, more unconsciously than deliberate.
Staring blankly at my fingertip, he suddenly snapped to and jumped up as if burned.
"Wh-what are you doing?!"
His reaction drew an exasperated response from me.
"I'm not going to eat you."
I'd just pointed it out, yet he acted like I was some contagious patient...
Startled by my words, the Crown Prince scowled deeply.
He finally seemed to regain his senses.
Before, he'd looked dazed, like someone snapping out of a trance.
"Did you come here just to pick fights?"
"No."
"......"
He narrowed his eyes, trying to read my intentions.
But I had none.
After a staring contest, I finally got to the point.
"I've brought food."
"What?"
Pulling out the sandwich I'd made as a meal substitute—hidden behind me—I felt his incredulity.
But soon, his face hardened coldly again.
"You didn't think I'd actually eat that, did you?"
"If you don't eat anything, your health..."
I wasn't truly worried about his health, but I feigned concern.
"You know I won't die from a few days of fasting. Even if I would, I'd never touch food made by you."
"......"
As expected. I'd hoped words would suffice.
Deflated by the stubborn Crown Prince, I hung my head sadly.
Seeing my dejected look seemed to amuse him; his expression lightened as he continued his venomous tirade.
"Frustrated? It's only natural. You should've foreseen this when you tried drugging me. Sorry, but I'll never show you even a speck of kindness again."
He was convinced my disappointment stemmed from his refusal and kept going.
But I let his words go in one ear and out the other.
I truly hadn't wanted to resort to this.
Still hanging my head dejectedly, I said,
"...Then I'll starve too."
"What?"
I really didn't want to starve.
But with words failing, this was my only option.
I couldn't force the sandwich into his mouth, so a hunger strike it was.
He hated me viscerally, but at his core, he was a good person—my fast probably wouldn't last long.
"...Why?"
After pondering blankly for a while, the Crown Prince asked with genuine curiosity, devoid of suspicion.
"I... no, since Lord Raven isn't eating at all, how could I, your subordinate, swallow food knowing that?"
I'd almost said 'Your Highness' but recalled his earlier disgust and corrected myself.
Hearing me, Crown Prince Raven wore a strangely complicated expression.
After furrowing his brow in thought for a long time, he finally spoke.
"...Nonsense. I'm fine even if I starve a bit. Don't pretend to... care out of worry. Haven't you always acted only on your own desires?"
His complicated look made sense now—he saw my actions as concern for him.
Duchess Serabi had never once considered the Crown Prince's health or position, acting solely on her lust.
Thus, his confusion was perfectly natural.
"Starving like that is why you're not growing taller."
"What?!"
His face flushed red at my words. Trembling with rage, he shouted furiously,
"I was a fool to even glance at you again. You're the same as always. Starve if you want! Get out—now!"
Panting, he shoved me out the door.
Glaring at me on the floor with murderous eyes, he slammed the door shut.
It was a joke.
I stood, brushing dust off my skirt.
In the end, it was a long-term battle.
* * *
The next day.
I could still endure. Skipping two meals left me just mildly hungry.
Called by the Vice Commander in the morning, I visited his office.
As soon as I entered, he handed me something. I eyed it warily, staring blankly. He said,
"What you asked for last time."
"Ah."
Then I remembered. A few days ago, I'd requested spare military uniforms.
Changing in an empty room and checking the mirror, a beautiful girl with silver hair and purple eyes stood in uniform, her cold gaze mismatched with her youthful face.
Vivid appearance aside, those chilly eyes made her seem beyond her age.
Satisfied with the look, I nodded.
After days in medieval dresses, the familiar attire brought strange comfort.
Emerging, the Vice Commander tossed out casually,
"You give off the same vibe as the Commander."
"...Pardon?"
His out-of-nowhere comment drew an incredulous look from me.
Comparing me to the Crown Prince? He'd draw his sword if he heard—and he hated me.
Besides, how could a mere cook like me share an aura with the supreme commander?
Raven might not mind, but others could accuse it of insulting royalty.
Seeing my doubtful gaze, he explained defensively,
"You're around the same age, especially the eyes. He's gentle usually, but turns cold at work—makes you feel you can trust and follow him."
As I stayed silent, he looked frustrated and added,
"Why's a kid like you so expressionless? Others your age are so lively. After seeing village kids, you look like a corpse. Sometimes I want to check if you're breathing."
To say that much. I'd improved a lot from before.
My body was teenage, but my mind wasn't—expecting teen vibrancy was unrealistic, but comparing me to a corpse? The Vice Commander's assessment felt exaggerated.
Then again, it wasn't unfair. Being emotionless had followed me since my past life.
* * *
I stood alone in the empty training grounds. Something to confirm before the day ended.
Whether I had any special abilities.
In stories, dimension travelers always had one or two special powers upon arrival.
Swordsmanship genius, magic prodigy, spirit affinity—something.
I might not be the protagonist, but as someone transported into a novel, I couldn't rule it out.
Magic required accumulated knowledge before practical use, so I postponed it.
Swordsmanship... I grabbed a passing Vice Commander for a spar, but couldn't land a single hit. Even holding the sword was burdensome.
I watched his opinion of me plummet in real-time as I failed my own challenge.
Chanting a summoning spell despite the embarrassment yielded nothing but another black history mark. The passing Vice Commander gave me a pitying look, like I was a dim child.
After enduring all that in one day, I realized: this body had no abilities.
Physical prowess was even slightly below average.
As the protagonist's enemy, shouldn't they give me at least one standout talent?
Already hungry and exhausted, I had no strength left. I collapsed onto the empty training grounds floor.
