I Will Break Off the Engagement Because I'm Jealous - The Untalented Villainess Who Rejected the Prince Searches for a Safe Haven with the Cheat Heroine - Chapter 3.3

Feeling unsettled… Though she didn’t voice it, clear dissatisfaction was etched on Emilia’s face.

Some time had passed since the Holy Sword had been swallowed by Emilia. After calming the flustered, weeping Emilia, Iris and Zlight began working together to investigate Emilia and the Holy Sword.

Invited to Zlight’s workshop, they conducted numerous experiments.

As a result, several things became clear.

(“She can store and retrieve things that house spirits”… huh.)

When Emilia touched something and focused her thoughts, she could absorb spirit-housing objects like the Holy Sword into her body. Of course, she could also retrieve them. However, there was a limit to how much she could store at once. Even when Zlight brought out various spirit tools, if she tried to cram in too many, she would end up spitting them out.

And then, the crucial property. While Iris and Zlight continued their discussion, Emilia retrieved the Holy Sword from within her hand and gripped its hilt.

She swung it without a sound.

(…It doesn’t feel heavy when I hold it. Swinging it is easy too. This must be the “skill” within the Holy Sword.)

Emilia could wield the “skills” of the spirit tools she had absorbed.

For example, she could also absorb a spirit carriage. Doing so granted her the “storage” skill, and even when she absorbed a considerable number of spirit tools, she no longer felt nauseous. The Holy Sword seemed to possess skills related to swordsmanship; simply holding it made the sword, which should have been heavy, feel unnaturally comfortable in her hand.

To Emilia, that was.

(————Disgusting. Unsettling.)

Unbearable.

(It’s clearly an external power. It’s not my own technique or anything… There’s no room for training or mastering it. While using the skill, it feels like my body has been taken over. Is this how everyone feels? No…)

What crossed Emilia’s mind were the girls she had studied with during her princess education. They had all been granted excellent skills… but they grew arrogant, conceited, and self-destructed. Every single one of them left the selection grounds.

(So, this is how everyone feels. That’s why they go mad.)

As she muttered to herself, she remembered.

(Could it be that Lord Sieg too…?)

The kingdom’s second prince, Sieg. According to game information, he should possess a skill called “Higher Self.” It provides a powerful boost to all actions related to “ascending” or “doing things from a high place.” His unwavering determination to rise above and his tendency to look down on others seemed to overlap perfectly with that ability. Thinking that far, Emilia gasped and lifted her head.

(Then what about Iris?)

Iris, who possessed the skill “Talent.” It removed the upper limit on growth but had no other effects. She would definitely grow as much as she put in effort, but if she did nothing, that was it. Considering her personality, such as her outright statement that she “hates people who don’t put in effort,” it felt like a skill that forced people to strive.

If the nature of the skill was shaping Iris’s precious accumulation.

If it was creating that dazzling aura of hers.

…Emilia shook her head and chased that thought from her mind.

(How foolish. The idea that skills… that spirits are manipulating people.)

The “unsettled” feeling wouldn’t subside, and she spat out her aimless words internally. When she lifted her head, her eyes met Zlight’s.

“Ah… Sorry, Lady Emilia. Got a bit carried away… You must be tired, right?”

“No, not at all. You’re investigating for my sake, so please don’t worry about me.”

“…Well, that’s not it.”

Zlight, who had changed from his casual shorts into gentleman’s attire, straightened his posture and gave a single cough. A brief silence fell in his dimly lit workshop. Glancing at Iris, she wore an expression that seemed to say, “Oh, well.” Emilia suppressed the urge to tilt her head and waited quietly.

“I thought you might know, but most commoners are ‘skillless.’ Even the adventurers are all like that. But occasionally, someone with noble blood appears, housing a spirit. And then, they achieve amazing feats. Ah, my wife was like that, you see.”

Emilia listened silently as Zlight spoke with shining eyes.

It was common knowledge that only those with royal or noble blood housed “magic power.” Those with magic power housed “spirits,” which granted them “skills.” Commoners had no magic power and could not obtain skills. But rarely, even among commoners, those with noble lineage could awaken skills.

“But, because of that…”

Zlight’s eyes grew clouded. His face twisted in anguish.

“I’ve seen plenty of folks who suffered regrets because they had no skills. And lots who died because they were just a little short on power. That’s why I started collecting spirit tools. Together with my comrades. And ah, what I wanna say is…”

Zlight spoke, his words tinged with years of suffering. Scratching the back of his head, he smiled somewhat apologetically and shyly.

For some reason, he overlapped with…

The image of the king she had seen yesterday.

“Lady Emilia, you are hope. Because you ‘have magic power, but no spirit,’ I think that’s why you can do this. In other words, if we can just find a way to grant ‘magic power’ to people, our dream will come true.”

Once again, Zlight’s eyes shone. It bore some resemblance to the aura Iris occasionally displayed.

“So even commoners could come to house skills? That’s quite a grand dream, isn’t it?”

Hiding a sliver of unease, Emilia replied. If that research were to become public, it might spark major conflict. The nobles would never accept commoners gaining power.

But certainly, even for Emilia—even for her, who was “skillless” and felt a certain precariousness about skills—Baron Zlight’s spoken dream seemed radiant.

“Yep. Ended up dragging a tired Lady Emilia, who just arrived, into my dream. Made you do a bunch of stuff that could’ve waited till tomorrow. My apologies.”

Zlight bowed his head deeply. Feeling troubled, Emilia averted her gaze. In front of her eyes was Iris, directing a bashful smile at her father.

(He doesn’t… apologize to his daughter.)

Iris, having just arrived from a long journey, was under just as much strain. But Emilia understood. The reason Zlight didn’t fuss over Iris or bow his head to her was because there was parental trust between them. If Iris seemed unwell, Zlight would surely force her to rest. An unspoken “It’s okay” seemed to exist between them.

Seeing that, she felt envious.

And it made the “unsettled” feeling grow larger again.

“Baron. I wanted to learn about myself too. Please raise your head.”

“But still…”

Unable to bear it, Emilia blurted out words. If she didn’t say something, even something trivial, she felt restless.

“If skills can be added later then is it possible to remove existing skills too?”

She let the thought slip out casually. Receiving no reply, Emilia returned her gaze. The father and daughter were blinking.

“Remove?” “Skills?”

“Ah, no, um. It was just a passing thought, and surely no one would want to do such a thing.”

Flustered, Emilia shook her hands and head, but both Zlight and Iris had intensified their gazes and were humming thoughtfully.

“Nah, that’s an important idea. There’d probably be folks who’d wanna remove a skill and attach a different one. Skills aren’t always useful; some are like curses.”

“Above all, Lady Emilia has shown that attaching and detaching spirits is, in a sense, possible. This itself might be the key to unraveling the mysteries of blessings and spirits.”

“Ooh————”

Hearing them say it so smoothly.

“I see. So even someone like me could be of use.”

Along with the lump in her chest, the words slipped out softly.

“Lady Emilia, you’re always helpful! We’re in your debt!”

“Even if the skillless are incompetent, there’s no such thing as useless. Lady Emilia. Though there are folks who aren’t suited for their roles, y’know.”

As if protesting, Iris responded, while Zlight replied as if soothing her. For some reason, the Baron’s words resonated deeply within Emilia’s chest.

“Not suited for their roles…”

“Yep. I’m no good with violence, so I’m not cut out to be an adventurer. I get cold feet about making enemies, so I’m not suited to be a noble either. An inventor, huh… maybe that’s it. Not that it’s anything so grand, though.”

Zlight laughed, swaying his body with what seemed like humble words. Iris was poking his shoulder with her finger.

“Dad, you’re a great inventor, aren’t you? I heard you’ve even received awards in other countries.”

“Well, yeah. But I’d rather have spirit tools than certificates. Buying them up is expensive.”

“Thanks to that, our house stays poor… but even spirit tools that seem like junk came in handy, didn’t they?”

“Ah, yeah. Lady Emilia, there was no difference based on the type of skill or spirit tool. I thought there might be a difference in how well she could use certain skills. If we hadn’t gathered a number of them, we wouldn’t have been able to investigate this.”

From the parent-child exchange, a glimpse of the Fran Baronetcy’s financial situation could be seen. Watching the two laugh together, Emilia gently pressed a hand to her chest.

(What role… am I suited for?)

No answer to that question arose from within herself.

Emilia, who had given up on her future as queen.

Had only now, finally… become aware that she had no future of her own.