Prince, I Don’t Want To Be Killed by You This Time! -The Poor Lady Who Was Framed by the Saint, Avoids Being Skewered the Second Time! ~

Perhaps remembering this, Cynthia looked like she was about to cry in front of her cupcake.

“Liesel, I’m so sorry about your bangs.”

“No, no, no! It’s okay, I can see fine, and it’s nice and clear! Besides, it’s my fault for standing in front of you.”

“If you don’t want the cupcake, I’ll eat it.”

Cynthia quickly swatted away Mac’s hand as he tried to take the cake from the side.

“No! I’m eating it!”

Mac and I laughed at Cynthia’s funny way of holding the cupcake in her hands protectively.

I spoke to Cynthia as she nibbled deliciously on her cupcake.

“Your parents must be very happy with your grades, right?”

Cynthia looked away from the cupcake and a smile spread across her face like a sunflower.

“Yes.
After I graduate, I definitely want to get a job at the Royal Magic Agency and repay my parents.”

The Magic Agency is the top organization for magicians in the country.

It’s the organization that unites all the magic branches in the country.

“I’m surprised you want to work at the royal palace.”

“Yes, because as a magician, there’s no greater honor.
The pay is good.
Mac too, right?”

While picking at the mushrooms in anchovy oil, Cynthia turned her gaze toward Mac.

Mac lifted his fiery red eyebrows a little higher.

“Of course.
I’m not an aristocrat, but I’ve heard that if you’re in the top ten, you’re guaranteed a job at the royal palace.”

Nodding her head, Cynthia tilted her head to the side and looked at me.
Then she asked me as if she knew but wanted to make sure.

“Liesel, you’re not aiming for the palace, are you?”

“No.
There are various circumstances…”

Cynthia and Mac looked at each other at the same time.

While showing a feeling of incomprehension in their eyes, they didn’t ask any more questions.

They do not know why I’m afraid of the royal palace.

I’m sure they’re waiting for me to tell them someday.
But I can’t tell them the absurd story that time has rewound.

Because it’s just not possible.
Time usually just moves forward.
This kind of story is not a pretty one, it’s the kind that’s a little too delusional.

Common sense dictates that I shouldn’t talk about it.

No matter how close friends they are.

“Well, let’s keep up the good work in third grade anyway!”

We wished each other good luck as we finished our second year.