Lord Arthur Was A Mysterious And Wonderful Prince

With her work finally done, Marianne gazed dreamily toward Arthur’s room, clutching a handkerchief.

As she let out a warm sigh, she touched the forehead where she had been healed.

“There’s truly not a single scar left… Lord Arthur is amazing.”

Honestly, when she had injured her forehead, she’d been overwhelmed with pain and despair.

If her face had been scarred, her worth as a woman would have diminished, and marriage would’ve become difficult.

That would have made her feel ashamed before her father, who went through so much to get her this job at the castle.

And more than anything, not being useful to her family would have been unbearable to Marianne, who held pride as a noble lady.

“Lord Arthur… how noble and kind-hearted he is. He’s the very image of a true king.”

Though she was technically a noble’s daughter, Marianne was from a rural noble family with little influence.

Someone like her flattering Lord Arthur brought him no gain whatsoever.

And yet…

When the painting suddenly fell and she screamed unbecomingly, he came running for her—
and without even glancing at the painting drawn by a renowned artist, he chose instead to heal her.

“I truly misunderstood him…”

Given Arthur’s usual reputation, this was hard for her to believe.

To someone of his royal status, maids were supposed to be disposable tools—not even worth remembering by name.

Indeed, she had never once heard him call her by name before.

She had always assumed he had no interest in the likes of servants. But now…

“You were healed because you’re special. Marianne, you always worked so hard, didn’t you?”

He said that and gave her healing that normally required a huge donation.

Her efforts as a maid finally felt rewarded.

And she made a silent vow in her heart never to forget this favor.

“But still… what exactly did he mean by ‘special’…? Could it be…?”

As the meaning stirred in her mind, Marianne’s face turned bright red like an apple.

Of course, she didn’t seriously think someone of royal blood would ever marry her.

But… being called “special” didn’t feel bad at all.

“I heard you were caught under a painting—are you alright, Marianne?”

With a knock, a blond young man in armor entered.

He had a strong, well-built frame and strikingly handsome features.

“Oh, Sir Gawain, you’re worrying too much. You shouldn’t be skipping your training, you know.”

“Heh, compared to training—or this country for that matter—my beloved little sister is far more important. I heard you were hurt on the forehead…”

“Please don’t worry. A kind passerby healed me.”

Thinking of Arthur’s word “special”, she chose to vaguely describe the healer, so as not to reveal his identity.

She didn’t want to cause trouble for him.

Ironically, this went against Arthur’s goal of earning praise and racking up ‘Good Deed Points’—
but of course, Marianne had no idea.

“I see. That’s good to hear. If you find out who it was, be sure to let me know. I’d like to thank them myself.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Still, their healing must’ve been remarkable. If even the faintest scar had remained on your beautiful face, I would’ve searched the entire kingdom to find someone who could heal it.”

Though Gawain said it with a joking tone, Marianne knew he meant it.

Her brother… well, his love could be a bit overwhelming.

Had she remained wounded, he truly would’ve traveled the entire kingdom.

And if someone capable of healing demanded an outrageous donation and refused— he would have borne a lifelong grudge.

Marianne sighed in relief that it hadn’t come to that.

“Yes, the wound split open quite badly, and I let out a shameful scream. But the kind person healed me in an instant.”

“You, of all people, crying out? And the wound was deep enough for that, yet healed in an instant…?”

Gawain frowned as he stared again at her unblemished forehead.

He was a knight who had fought on countless battlefields and received healing magic many times.

And that’s exactly why her words felt off.

“Marianne… healing magic isn’t as all-powerful as you think. For shallow cuts, sure. But to fully heal something that could leave a scar— it takes hours.”

“Eh…?”

“There are very few who can do that kind of healing. Maybe the Saintess Elaine,
or our kingdom’s second prince, Lord Arthur… Are you sure the person who healed you was a stranger?”

Uh-oh… this was bad.

Her brother might be a sister-obsessed maniac, but he wasn’t stupid.

At this rate, Arthur might get dragged into it.

So Marianne played her trump card.

“More importantly, dear brother… Since you’re skipping training anyway, won’t you have dinner with me tonight? It’s been so long since we dined together.”

“Really, Marianne!? I’d love to!! Ah, I’m so excited. Let’s make it a lavish meal tonight!”

Watching Gawain grin foolishly, Marianne let out a relieved sigh.

Still… Lord Arthur was truly amazing, wasn’t he?

Listening to her brother’s words only deepened her respect for Arthur.