The Harvest Mouse Exits the Fairytale Together with Cinderella-Chapter 59

Would this incident be enough to prevent his death five years from now?

She wasn’t sure.

"......."

Eisen, watching the child grinning triumphantly as if she had solved a major issue, stared at her and asked,

"You didn’t go rummaging through my office drawers, did you?"

Elodie’s shoulders flinched violently.

"I knew it. Even though I found traces of intrusion, I left it alone because I suspected it was you. But to think you actually stole someone else’s records, you little rascal..."

"I, I just...!"

Elodie shook her head frantically, slowly backing away.

But realizing there was no point in denying it any longer, she suddenly shouted,

"I’ll just borrow it a little longer, Grandpa!"

Then, without hesitation, she spun around and bolted out of the room.

She had been practicing walking for a while, but when had she gotten so fast at running?

"Good grief."

Eisen chuckled.

He didn’t bother chasing her down to retrieve what she had taken.

***

"So he really was a fraud!"

Zenovia shot up from his seat when a maid delivered the news.

Just as he had suspected, the bastard had come to take advantage of his grandfather’s inability to recognize faces.

"How dare he...!"

The hot-tempered boy immediately grabbed his sword and stormed out.

The maids gasped, reaching out to stop him, but he skillfully dodged them and escaped.

'That son of a bitch. I’ll kill him.'

Fueled by murderous rage, he strode forward with terrifying momentum—

Then, gradually, his steps slowed.

And in the end, he came to a stop.

A thought crossed his mind.

'Even if I get angry...'

Did he even have the right?

Would it change anything?

Updat𝒆d fr𝑜m freewebnøvel.com.

He was still the third.

His grandfather still found him troublesome.

No matter how he looked at it, rushing in now would only get him scolded for acting out again.

'But this is all I know how to do.'

His grandfather was the hero who had saved the continent.

His older brother had inherited that same talent.

And Karon...

The humiliation of being knocked down and forced to the ground by that frail, dying patient...

It had felt as though his world was crumbling.

Accepting that the thing you were best at meant nothing among the people you belonged to—was unbearable.

"Zenovia!"

At that moment, a voice called out.

Elodie came running toward him, waving her hands.

"What."

"Zenovia, were you crying?"

"Who the hell was crying?!"

His eyes were still red.

Elodie, undeterred by his shame, pulled out something she had taken from Eisen’s office and handed it to him.

"What is this."

Zenovia, still rubbing at his eyes, took it absentmindedly.

He immediately became suspicious.

What trick was she pulling now?

After eyeing her warily, he finally opened the leather-bound book in his hands.

The first page began with an entry:

"I started this because that damn physician wouldn’t stop nagging me to record my daily life. But just so you know, you’re a parasite."

└ "That’s too harsh, sir."

Morning, 7:00 a.m. – Walk

Review and approve the annual budget report submitted by the treasury department.

8:00 a.m. – Morning meeting

Visit the training grounds, observe the knights' practice.

11:00 a.m. – Meeting with foreign envoys

Inspection of the fortress construction site.

1:00 p.m. – Urgent message from the Emperor...

└ "Your Grace, what I suggested was a diary, not a work log."

└ "What else am I supposed to write? All I do is work."

└ "Perhaps you could add some personal thoughts."

└ "Forget urgent messages, that bastard still hasn’t given up on Liana even after becoming Emperor? His firstborn is already three, and his wife is pregnant with the second, yet he’s still spouting nonsense. Makes me regret that peace treaty all over again."

└ "That’s not the kind of unfiltered thoughts I was hoping for. Please keep your opinions on His Majesty to yourself."

It seemed to be a mix of Eisen’s daily work records and his conversations with his physician.

Flipping through the pages, Zenovia suddenly froze.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Because he saw his own name.

Zenovia Valkyrisen.

"Liana, claiming that he had his mother’s eyes, went and named him after my wife without my permission."

"I told her it was ridiculous for a boy to have that name, but she just laughed and said I could call him ‘Zeno’ for short."

"Eyes, huh. I couldn’t see it at all. When I tried to check, the kid started crying. Maybe I pressed too hard."

"Not a single mark on his face. Who did he take after to be born so smooth?"

"I had no way of recognizing him, so Liana whispered to me that his big toe was like a king’s toe. What was I supposed to do with that information? Take his shoes off every time I needed to identify him?"

"Well, he’s still a newborn now, so I won’t confuse him with Edmund, who’s already three. But once he grows up, it’ll probably get difficult."

"I hope he ends up a little less serious than his brother."

Zenovia gripped the book tighter.

He had been three years old back then.

"Zeno grabbed a sword."

"He’s only three. Do kids normally grow this fast?"

"He said wooden swords were boring and insisted on using a real one. I knew it was trouble from the moment he started swinging it around."

"And sure enough, he ended up cutting my finger."

"I had worried that he and Edmund would start looking alike, but I never wanted a scar to be the way I told them apart."

"Luckily, it won’t leave a mark. But his hands will be ruined from training soon enough, so it won’t matter much."

It was Eisen’s diary.

Records he had kept in an effort to remember Zenovia.

Most of the entries were about Zenovia’s childhood.

It just so happened that the physician had advised Eisen to start writing a diary around the same time Zenovia was born.

And somehow, that diary had ended up being almost entirely about his grandson.

"Zenovia is not third place."

Elodie repeated the words she had told him before.

This time, Zenovia didn’t snap back with, "What do you know?"

He kept reading.

And as he read, he understood.

"He didn’t like that I picked up a sword..."

He had wanted to prove himself.

And yet, the more he trained, the more distant he felt.

"That’s because he didn’t want you to get hurt."

Eisen had been proud of him.

That much was obvious just from the entry about the day Zenovia had won first place in a children’s swordsmanship competition.

Zenovia must have liked that entry, because he kept reading it.

Over and over again.

And then he reached the most recent, and final, entry.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen Zenovia looking neat."

"At that hour, he should have just returned from training—covered in sweat, caked in dust, his shirt unbuttoned, his clothes a mess."

"But that day, he was dressed properly. His hair was tidy. He even smelled nice, like he had used perfume."

"So without thinking, I called him Edmund."

"I think he was shocked. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could tell."

"I knew there was no point in distinguishing them by their clothes, their hairstyles, or their scent. So I waited for him to speak first."

"The way they talk is different, after all."

"That third one... he’s small now, but judging by his hands and feet, he’ll be just as big as his brothers."

"I wonder if I’ll last long enough to see it."

"It wouldn’t matter if I had to learn to recognize three of them. I just hope they all grow up well."

Zenovia stared at the page.

He had been spiraling into insecurity, driven by resentment and inferiority.

And then, just when he had reached his lowest, he had been called his brother’s name.

It had made him give up.

He hadn’t even realized that, after that day, Eisen had waited for him to speak first.

He had never once been ranked or measured against his brothers—except in his own mind.

"I’m such an idiot."

"Yes. You’re an idiot."

"......"

He was too stupid to even be mad about her quick response.

With a deep sigh, Zenovia ruffled his hair, his flushed face buried in his hands.