I Screwed the Novel's Plot

Three days had passed since our journey. The rough trail now changed into a smoother granite pavement. I peered outside through the window and the high walls of Axton City came into view.

"By the way."

I turned and Damian looked at me anxiously.

"Do you–err, have cash with you?"

I raised one of my brows.

"I do. Why?"

"Umm, can you lend it to me? I… I will pay you back after we arrive at the castle."

"What for?"

"I want to buy my mother a souvenir."

I couldn't help but smirk, somehow he never changed; always loved Theresa dearly. Well, it was understandable if he was broke, his Palace's budget was managed by Fedel.

"Alright, how much do you need?"

He tilted his head.

"How much does a Rose Brooch cost?"

I shrugged.

"I don't know. I never buy women's stuff."

Rose Brooches were the most souvenirs often taken home by happy tourists of Axton city. I took out a pouch of gold and stretched my hand.

"Here."

He received it with both hands while bowing.

"Thank you."

The white-haired boy peeked inside the pouch and abruptly looked at me with widened eyes.

"Where did you get so much money?"

He continued to gawk at the gold in the bag in amazement. There were around eight hundred gold coins or so in that pouch.

But why was he acting like it was his first time seeing such a large number, or was he?

"I asked my mother for my allowance."

Of course, that was a lie. Noble children's budgets were usually managed by their head butler or nanny before they came of age.

Truthfully, they could buy anything with no money, because their shopping receipts would be sent to their mansion/palace, and the manager would cut the budget to pay for it.

After they turned 18, they would eventually run their own budget, and their family would give them an aide to assist them in managing the money.

"We're Princes, but why am I dirt poor and you're dirt rich? It's not fair!"

Damian glared at me with blatant jealousy.

"You can have it all if you'd like and you don't have to pay it back."

"Really?!"

His azure jewels were twinkling with excitement and I was amazed by how quickly he changed expressions.

"Yeah."

"Hehehe, thanks."

He put the pouch in his Magical Sphere merrily. I never thought he would be so happy with that little amount of money.

When you turn back time, you must use everything at your disposal, for example establishing a business or doing investments to earn more money.

Of course, I did it under a pseudonym, I couldn't let the Imperial Family or Desdemona's Family find out about my activity outside the Castle.

'And that's how I make tons of money.'

If he loved money so much, then I could give him any number he wanted from now on.

Damian knelt on the couch and knocked on the small rectangular window above the sofa.

–Tuk –Tuk –Tuk

The glass slid open and Fedel's grayish eyes came into view.

"Is something troubling you, Your Highness?"

"Fedel, can we stop at a souvenir store once we arrive at Axton city? I want to buy some souvenirs."

Somehow his voice sounded ecstatic and I felt so nostalgic when I heard it.

"I understand, I will notify you once we arrive."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Soon, the carriage stopped, and Fedel's voice was heard from outside.

"Your Highness, we have arrived."

The door opened and knights could be seen lining up left and right to secure our safety. We stepped out and they immediately surrounded us.

Both sides were guarded by two knights, Gideon in the front, then Fedel and Sir Ulrich in the rear. Instead of security, I felt like a prisoner. How uncomfortable.

'Honestly, I can roam around the city as much as I like, whenever I want and people won't even bother me. However, this time is a little different.'

White hair has always been the Atreilight trait's descendant, and when this little brat tugged his head out for the first time in public, of course without a doubt he would stand out.

Indistinct chatter filled the space as people looked on in awestruck. It must have been a great event for them as they got to see a Prince before his social debut.

The Mercenary Agency tag up ahead caught my attention.

"Hei, Ian."

He turned to me with a questioning face.

"Did you see a building with the Corbenik name sign?"

His eyes moved to the front.

"I did, why?"

I took an emblem out and gave it to him.

"Here."

"What is this?"

Damian studied it carefully, then he glanced at the emblem and the sign alternately as he noticed they shared the same logo.

"In case you need money someday, just show them this and they'll give you money."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

His brows furrowed.

"But it's a Mercenary Agency."

"Correct."

Yet, he remained silent whilst staring at me. After a brief pause, he opened his mouth and I realized that I made a grave mistake.

"Do you perhaps… own it? That Corbenik Mercenary Agency?"

"Are you out of mind? I will end up under the guillotine or gallows if I raise an army behind Dariush's back."

Although I quickly denied it, he still looked at me suspiciously and I  clicked my tongue inwardly.

'It's because I adored him too much, I forgot that boy has such an extraordinary brain Damn it.'

Luckily, he didn't bring it up any further and we entered the souvenir store. Anxiety and nervousness colored the faces of the staff when they received us.

All in all, everything went smoothly, and there was no hassle. The owner served us with utmost care and politeness.

Damian was assisted by Fedel in selecting souvenirs and while waiting for the little imp, I decided to read a book to pass the time.

"Here."

I switched my sight to the voice and a tiny little black box reached out from Damian's hand to me.

"What's that?"

"Don't you need a souvenir for your mother too?"

I turned my attention back to the book I was reading earlier.

"I don't need it."

However, Damian snatched the book away and placed the box in my palm.

"I'm done here. Let's go back."

I opened it and a black rose brooch came into view. Nevertheless, I closed it and put the box in my Magical Sphere.

With that, we returned to Aeon Castle via the Marquis Gilmore Supreme Blink Sphere.

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