The next morning, when I woke up, the entire mansion was in an uproar. Everyone was rushing around even before breakfast was finished.

  Wondering what was going on, I asked Panetta—one of the servants who had come from the royal capital.

  “The Imperial Prime Minister is coming here for a condolence visit.”

  She said it casually and hurried back to work.

  By chance, I ran into my grandfather in the hallway. The moment he saw me, he spun on his heel with a furious look and strode back over.

  “Anastasia, do not leave your room for a while. A letter just arrived saying the Imperial Prime Minister—who stayed in the capital after attending the late king’s funeral—is coming here. You understand what that means, don’t you?”

  The Empire had been our enemy in the last war.

  There would be postwar negotiations, of course, but for the Prime Minister himself to show up… it was basically him announcing out loud that he had another purpose.

  “Yes, Grandfather. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about exactly that.”

  “Make it quick. I have to go around town and make sure everyone’s stories match.”

  “Starting today, I will live as a man named Denaris. Please treat it as if you’ve taken in an adopted son or something.”

  “I see. Understood. I’ll let everyone know.”

  And just like that, he rushed out of the mansion.

  He accepted it way more easily than I expected.

  Probably convenient for him, too.

  First things first—I had to do something about my appearance.

  I called the guard captain, Felix, and had him prepare some men’s clothing.

  Panetta helped me wrap a sarashi tightly around my chest, then I slipped into the outfit.

  Button-down shirts apparently didn’t exist here. The standard was a tunic you pulled over your head, like a simple cutsew. Commoners tied their clothes shut with strings in the front like a judo gi, but nobles wore tunics with knee-length breeches, socks, leather shoes, a vest, and then a jacket on top.

  No strict rules, but when something’s mainstream, you follow it.

  Next was my hair.

  As a princess, it had grown all the way down to my waist. It was a hassle, so I decided to cut it short.

  I sat in a chair and was about to have Panetta chop it off when my mother burst in with a shriek.

  “Panetta! What on earth are you doing!?”

  I should have explained it to her first.

  After I told her everything, she finally calmed down… but then she started crying and begging me not to cut my hair.

  I couldn’t just ignore her.

  So instead, I had it braided.

  The result? I still looked like a girl no matter which way you sliced it.

  Just a girl who liked cross-dressing.

  At least my black hair helped a little.

  “You’re only fifteen,” Mother said. “It’ll be fine!”

  Yeah… probably not.

  I could already tell my chest was starting to develop. It wouldn’t be long before I couldn’t hide it anymore.

  If I was going to live as a man, I needed to take care of this fast.

  To survive in this new life, I needed a way to protect myself.

  “Princess… I mean, Master Denaris? Where are you going?”

  “To the blacksmith. And seriously, drop the ‘Princess’ and ‘Master.’ ‘Princess’ is obviously out, and ‘Master Denaris’ gives me the creeps.”

  “Then… what should I call you?”

  “I don’t know yet. Right now I’m neither a princess nor a count’s daughter. I’m no different from a commoner.”

  “Then… how about ‘Young Master’?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Fine. By the way, why did you pick ‘Denaris’?”

  “It’s the name of a man loved by the moon goddess Luna who swore to remain a virgin for life. Perfect for me right now, don’t you think? As long as I’m living as a man, I’ll be a virgin forever.”

  “What a pitiful name…”

  “I’ll just have to catch the culprit, expose the mastermind, and get out of this undead state already.”

  “You’re going to search for them?”

  “Of course. That’s why I’m going to the blacksmith.”

  “Shall I prepare a carriage?”

  Denaris folded his arms and thought for a moment.

  “…Do I need training to ride?”

  “On a gentle horse, you should be able to manage a trot…”

  ‘Let me help. Try getting on.’

  A cat meowed and rubbed against my leg.

  Since Bastet said so, I went to the stables and had them bring out the calmest mare. They saddled her up.

  I somehow managed to climb on. The moment I put my foot in the stirrup, Bastet hopped up behind me and slapped the horse’s back.

  The mare reared with a loud neigh and took off like a rocket.

  “W-wait-wait-wait—Bastet! Stop! You little—!!”

  I grabbed the mane with both hands and clung desperately so I wouldn’t fall off.

  “Nya-nya-nyaaa~?”

  Bastet was having the time of her life, slapping the horse’s back nonstop.

  Poor horse, having a divine cat riding her…

  I felt bad, but please just calm down!

  “Young Master! The reins!”

  “I’m not a princess anymore! And Bastet, knock it off—!!”

  ◇

  By the time we reached the blacksmith, I was exhausted.

  Bastet, on the other hand, looked extremely satisfied.

  The forge was a lonely building on the outskirts of town, right beside the irrigation canal. The walls were made of sintered brick, topped with a thatched roof—an odd combination. I guess it was fine if the roof burned?

  Inside, the rhythmic clanging of hammers echoed. There was also the faint tinkling of finer work—maybe a jeweler was inside too.

  Hearing the horse, a burly man stepped out.

  “Something you need at the forge, little lady?”

  I was surprised. He was wearing what looked exactly like a samue work jacket.

  “Hello. My name is Denaris.”

  “Oh, a boy? Sorry about that. I’m Legolis, the head smith here.”

  “I’d like to see some swords.”

  “If you want swords, go to the weapon shop. We don’t keep stock here.”

  “I don’t think they’ll have what I’m looking for.”

  The head smith narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin.

  “Hmm… what kind of blade are you after?”

  “A single-edged curved sword, about two shaku two sun long.” (Roughly 66 cm.)

  Legolis went quiet for a moment, sizing me up.

  “…I’ve got one. Want to see it?”

  “Yes!”

  He disappeared into a separate shed and came back carrying a gently curved wooden stick.

  “Here it is.”

  I took it. The curve was about three bu (roughly 1 cm). The blade length was probably closer to two shaku three sun, with a one-shaku hilt. The weight felt perfect.

  I cut the koiguchi and drew the blade. Felix’s eyes went wide.

  Legolis grinned.

  “Well, well. First time I’ve seen someone draw it on sight.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. This thing hasn’t been used in over a hundred years. Almost nobody can make them anymore.”

  “Why did people stop using them?”

  “Hard to handle. You cut with technique, not power. Takes time to master. Army-issue straight swords are way easier.”

  I tucked the scabbard under my arm and examined the bare blade.

  Blue iron.

  I’d never seen metal like this.

  It was beautifully forged, showing a wood-grain pattern, with a straight hamon.

  “How much?”

  “Can’t sell it.”

  I must have looked confused, because Legolis explained.

  “When I took over from my master, he taught me the secret technique and we made this together. The lord paid for the materials. There’s another one that didn’t match the measurements, so neither can be sold.”

  “My name is Alias Denaris. Quintus is my grandfather.”

  “The lord never had a grandson named Denaris.”

  “I’m adopted.”

  “Haha, fair enough. I know that face, though. You’re the guard captain who failed to protect the princess, right?”

  Felix gritted his teeth.

  “Wait here a sec.”

  Legolis went back to the shed and returned with a wooden box.

  “While I get the rest ready, can you assemble this?”

  Inside were cloth-wrapped pieces and small wooden cases—clearly sword fittings.

  I picked up the short one first.

  Unwrapping the hemp cloth revealed a one-shaku hilt.

  To my shock, it was made exactly like a Japanese sword.

  Different world, same ideas—somehow that made me happy.

  The kashira and fuchi were silver with tasteful black rust. The fuchi had a snake-scale engraving. Ray-skin wrap, silk cord in a twisted braid. No menuki.

  I never expected to see this here.

  Next, the small box contained a silver habaki and a long, narrow jade rod with a slit in the middle—the tsuba.

  There was also a seppa and a tiny gold pin.

  I borrowed the edge of the platform, sat down, and got to work.

  I removed the mekugi, tapped out the kashira, slipped off the fuchi, and laid the blade on a clean cloth.

  Legolis was carrying over a stand, occasionally glancing at my hands.

  Felix just watched in silence.

  I fitted the habaki, tried one seppa, swapped it for the other, then slid on the tsuba.

  I pushed the whole assembly into the hilt, stood the sword upright, and lightly tapped the kashira with my palm.

  Then I drove the mekugi back in.

  From the long bundle came the scabbard—black leather with an unusual mottled pattern. No lacquer culture here, apparently.

  It had three seppa-kin and a kojiri. The koiguchi was reinforced only with metal.

  One of the bands had a loop for the sageo—an indigo-and-white braided cord.

  I sheathed the blade.

  “Ready on my end. How’s yours coming?”

  I showed Legolis the assembled sword. The lines of hilt and scabbard flowed beautifully.

  Clearly a skilled craftsman.

  The tsuba was more like a rod with very little flare—almost like an ai-kuchi style.

  “Good. Now cut with it. If it works, you can take it.”

  He wanted a tameshi-giri.

  He stood with arms crossed like a king.

  The test target was a bundle of straw matting rolled up and soaked with water from a kettle.

  “This blade has never been used. No one could cut with it. My master said it could, but I want to see for myself.”

  I nodded, took the sword, and faced the target.

  I cut the koiguchi as if drawing from the left hip, lowered the blade, placed my hand on the hilt, stepped in with my left foot, and drew in one fluid motion.

  The matting split cleanly sideways. The cut end thumped to the ground.

  “Ha ha ha! Now that’s something! Someone who can actually cut with it!”

  “Young Master… may I try with my own sword?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Felix tried a diagonal cut, but the blade stopped just short of going all the way through.

  “Young Master, one more time, please.”

  I nodded. This time I sheathed the sword and handed it to Felix, then drew from hasso—no, from the right temple, stepping forward with my right foot and cutting diagonally.

  A clean zash!—the blade passed straight through.

  Legolis was laughing.

  “Beautiful. Never thought I’d see the day. …Anyway, never mind. Take the other one too.”

  He handed me the second blade.

  I thanked him, and the two of us left the forge.

  “Come back anytime,” Legolis called after us.

  Thank you so much for reading! ??

  If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a rating or a review!

  Your feedback is greatly appreciated and really encourages both the original author and the translator to keep bringing more chapters.

  You can also read the original Japanese version here:

  https://kakuyomu.jp/works/822139840146984259/episodes/822139840177976520

  See you in the next chapter!