The Childhood Friend of the Villainess in a Romance Fantasy

Translator: Elisia

Editor/Proofreader: TempWane

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Thinking back on it, I never actually learned proper swordsmanship.

It wasn’t that I was especially lazy; rather, I simply gave up because it didn’t suit me.

It’s like how a mage dedicates themselves to studying and mastering magic instead of bothering with swordsmanship, or how an archer learns only basic sword techniques, focusing mainly on honing their archery skills.

But since I had no one to teach me, I just had to find my own way, figuring things out as best I could.

I have no talent for swordsmanship. That much is clear. Swinging a sword to unleash a sword aura or channeling power to wrap the blade in aura falls squarely within the realm of “talent.” Simply waving a sword doesn’t emit aura, and just gripping it tightly doesn’t surround it with aura.

And in our family, “sword aura” was the central technique we used. Considering we were part-giants with conflicting mana flows, it couldn’t be helped.

Of course, just with that sword aura alone, our family members could cleave nearly any opponent in two.

I could still hold a sword and swing it. I’d managed to learn at least the basics of thrusting and blocking. But I’d never once succeeded in releasing a sword aura. When I discovered my talent as a druid, I briefly hoped that I might be able to use aura, but it was impossible.

Realizing that, I promptly gave up on swordsmanship. My family had never criticized me for it—

“……”

“……”

No, I hadn’t expected my strength to be this overwhelming.

Apparently, in this medieval fantasy world, “swordsmanship” and “strength” were considered separate attributes.

The prince, staring at the sword he’d just been disarmed of, looked at me with wide eyes. Human eyes naturally reflected light because they were moist, but somehow, I thought they looked like they were glistening with tears.

Then, belatedly, I realized why the prince had asked to spar with members of our family, and why he hadn’t given up even after being indirectly turned down by everyone until I, the only female in the family, was left.

Uh, I don’t really get it.

I mean, why would a ten-year-old challenge the adult men of our family, whose swordsmanship skills were unrivaled?

If he’d challenged me just to discipline me for some offense, that might at least make sense, but to have this sparring request turned down by everyone until it reached me…

“Th-Three more rounds, a best-of-three matches!”

Before the silence could grow any more tense, I quickly shouted that out.

Everyone who had been watching in heavy silence turned to look at me.

“I’ve heard that in real battles, victory and defeat can often be decided by luck as much as skill. Prince, you’ve come from a warmer region and traveled to this freezing area so suddenly; it’s fair to say that you haven’t fully adjusted yet. To properly assess one’s skill in swordsmanship, it’s important to have at least three rounds to provide an objective evaluation. After all, the purpose of sparring isn’t merely to showcase skill but to exchange knowledge, right?”

I rambled on, spouting nonsense.

If it had been my father or brothers—or even my mother—saying these words, they might have sounded convincing. But coming from me, the only one in this household who had abandoned swordsmanship, it probably sounded neither logical nor reasonable.

“Y-Yes, that’s true.”

But my father backed me up.

It was, after all, just my opinion. Even though I’d made it up, it wasn’t a lie. So from the family’s perspective, it was easy to go along with my statement on the grounds of respecting my words.

“She’s right. The purpose of a sparring match is similar to a conversation. If one side isn’t in top condition, it’s difficult to truly understand each other’s intentions. We should postpone the sparring to another time.”

It seemed my father had decided to play along with my excuse.

“……”

I briefly worried that the prince might refuse and lash out, but he just lowered his head, clenching his fists tightly.

Standing nearby, a knight with beads of sweat on his forehead murmured to the prince,

“Your Highness, she’s right. You haven’t had much time to recover from the journey, and it’ll take some time to adjust to this place.”

“……But the enemy won’t wait until I’m ready, will they?”

“……”

At those words, which were in a tone different from what I’d previously heard from the prince, the knight fell silent.

The prince wasn’t wrong.

Although sparring is generally seen as a friendly exchange to assess each other’s abilities, losing still means losing. The onlookers would never claim, “Today wasn’t fair because his condition wasn’t good.” For that, one side would have to be visibly and clearly unwell.

Besides, this sparring was initiated by the prince himself. Claiming “I wasn’t in good condition” afterward would only bury his pride deeper than the ocean trenches.

And pride was of utmost importance to a member of the royal family.

Which only made me more confused. Why would the prince challenge the members of our family? The outcome was already obvious.

“I-I would like to apply for a rematch!”

I couldn’t just leave this situation as it was.

Even though our family was backed by the Grand Ducal House, the House of Delkis was still a barony.

If the royal family chose to directly punish us, there would be no solution. We still paid taxes to the royal family, not the Grand Duke.

And it wasn’t as if we could abandon this land and leave.

“A rematch? After winning the duel?”

The prince raised his head to look at me.

He was glaring at me fiercely, but since he was only a ten-year-old kid whose eyes were slightly damp, it wasn’t all that intimidating.

The family standing behind him was what was truly frightening.

I wondered if the king would really target our family over a single perceived slight against the prince. I knew that this prince would eventually become not the king but the emperor of a neighboring country, but that didn’t make me want to add more hardship to our already struggling family.

After all, it was my thoughtless handling of the sword that had led to this situation.

“I-I simply wish to get to know Your Highness better! This short exchange of swordsmanship was far too brief for us to understand each other!”

“……”

Silence.

A heavy silence fell over the sparring grounds.

I was well aware of how absurd my words sounded. At least my previous excuse had been more justifiable; this was nothing more than childish pleading.

But having never engaged in political negotiations in my life, I figured whining was my only option to defuse the duel.

My father was staring at me, mouth slightly agape, but I tried to ignore it and kept my gaze fixed on the prince.

The prince, mouth agape as well, stared blankly back at me.

His eyes were wide, too.

…Was my excuse really that outlandish? The nobles living in the royal capital were likely far more politically adept than me, so my words probably sounded terribly unconvincing.

“……”

The prince, after staring at me in silence for a long while, suddenly straightened his shoulders. His face was still beet red.

No matter how much he puffed out his chest, he still looked like a child, not a man.

Not to mention, he was still a bit shorter than me.

“……Very well. I cannot refuse a lady’s request.”

Then, with a hint of pride, the prince looked over at my father and said,

“I shall end the first sparring session here. For the second round… I leave it to Lady Delkis’ discretion.”

“Understood. Then let this duel conclude for now.”

As the presiding judge of the duel, my father declared it over.

With that, the first sparring match was left unresolved for the time being.

*

“Gray, bite!”

“Woof?”

The next day.

When I shouted, bringing my left arm up to Gray’s mouth, Gray perked up his ears and looked at me curiously.

Some say animals lack expressions, but I find that statement utterly wrong. Wolves’ expressions are as diverse as people’s. The only reason they’re harder to read is that wolves’ faces are covered in fur, and their facial structure differs from ours.

Especially with their ears having such a range of motion, you can gauge their feelings just by observing them.

“Come on!! Try to bite me until it hurts!”

Hearing my command, Gray tilted his head—

“Ugh, no, not like that.”

—and opened his massive mouth to lick my face, covering it in slobber.

“Why are you suddenly acting up when you’re usually so obedient?”

Even as I said this, Gray continued to lick my face, as though he hadn’t understood a word.

Honestly ,he was just a big, overgrown puppy.

Though… is he really a kid? Well, if we’re talking strictly by age, he’s much younger than me.

As I continued my back-and-forth with Gray, the sound of approaching hoofbeats echoed from the distance.

…Why do I feel like we’ve been getting visitors more frequently these days?