Disclaimer: I don't own Who Made Me a Princess?


Warning: Contains spoilers for webtoon chapter 103. Claude's POV of when Athanasia first had trouble with her mana as a child during their teatime.


The events that followed were a blur. Even to Claude.

He remembered seeing that woman's daughter fall forward, the sensation of his voice catching in his throat, and his feet pulling him after her. The rest of the world ceased to exist as soon as he watched her hit the ground. The perpetual numbness that he felt suddenly dissipated and in its place was a torrent of emotion that hit him all at once. The dark magic that had followed him for so long suddenly felt so far away. It was impossible to ignore the terror that surged through him then, so quick and so foreign that something deep inside of him shattered.

Claude bobbed forward as he ran, bent at the waist like a mast cracked by a sudden storm. His chest heaved from how swiftly his breaths left him. Claude's eyes clenched shut, his jaw trembled from sheer emotion, and then, without warning, he was on his knees before her. His grip on his composure long gone. He couldn't command his body. Not in the face of all that blood. There was so much. So, so much. It couldn't all be hers.

It just... couldn't.

His eyes burned. His chest felt gutted. Breathing fucking hurt.

This was too much.

Anymore, and he'd tear apart.

Claude needed someone from the magician's tower, and he just barely registered shouting at Felix to find someone—anyone that could help the little girl in his arms. Claude's magic didn't fix things; they broke them. Sure, he could try, but if Claude knew anything about himself, it was his own limitations. A job like this required a complex understanding of another's mana and the sort of delicate hand that he just didn't have. He'd kill her, before he cured her.

Where are those damn magicians when I need them?!

Claude vaguely recalled checking his robes for anything that might be of use. All he found was a pouch of coins and a dagger. He checked them a second time, more out of a need to move, than hope. When he only unearthed more coins, he looked at the spread of untouched food on the table. Despite knowing it was an internal mana explosion that caused the burst of pain startling enough to make her fall unconscious, his eyes still looked at every inch of the area for a sign of poison—old habits died hard, especially those he'd developed as a child.

Where are those fucking mages? Claude thought, panic rising. Desperation was his own personal brand of hell. Very old territory. He needed to get a grip. Wait, no, she's finally dying. I won't ever have to see a reflection of that woman's face again, so why am I searching for a way to cu—

Athanasia whimpered.

Claude's control over himself splintered into nothing at the sound.

His grip tightened. The edges of his vision blurred as he finally lost it.

"Felix!" Claude shouted when he saw him return with a dozen tower mages behind him.

"Your Majesty, please give the princess this!" Felix handed him a vial. "The head tower mage said that this should knock her completely unconscious for at least twelve hours, so they can examine her."

Claude took it from him with trembling fingers. The warmth of her blood urged him to move faster, even as he uncorked the vial of—he didn't know, but if it could keep her from looking so pained for even a moment longer, then he didn't care. Claude could only hope that she wasn't allergic to any of the ingredients. Giving it to her would be a big gamble, but it was infinitely more precious than whatever else he had now.

So, for the moment, it had to suffice.

Claude made quick work of the cap, then harshly forced her mouth open in haste. She was delirious from the hurt and panicked subconsciously in his arms. Her limbs flailed wildly against him in protest.

Felix spoke again, but he didn't hear. Claude was lost to the look of delirious terror in Athanasia's half-lidded gaze—her eyes were so blue. A mimic of his own. She had that woman's face, but her eyes were his. His. His. How had he never noticed it before?

He didn't know how much time passed between him trying to calm her and waiting to be recognized, but eventually, she managed to spawn some semblance of sanity because he saw the moment she registered who he was. She couldn't even open her mouth to scream. Tears streamed down her face from the pain. Claude didn't know how to ease it though—he needed her to sleep and right now, he wasn't sure if he could use his magic to knock her out. He didn't want to risk making her condition worse.

It was only when he tilted his chin up—showing her his usual unyielding nature—that she finally relaxed against his ministrations, fully aware of who he was.

Claude didn't speak, only watched as Athanasia's eyes screwed shut at the sight of him.

"Drink," he ordered, while pressing the vial to her lips. She downed everything he had to offer. Trust terrifying in its totality.

The effect of the tonic was immediate. Her tears stopped flowing as she was finally knocked fully unconscious, and though her breaths came out slower than he liked, they were also steadier and firmer than the minute before. Claude picked her up and pressed his forehead against her own much smaller one like a man seeking home.

Words spilled from him; a torrent of half-whispers and assurances that he hoped she could hear. But despite his clumsy tongue, he was certain that she'd know what it was he meant to say. It was plain for all to see when his fingers began combing through her hair; when his entire being shuddered in her presence; when he trembled each time he called her name—

Concern. Fear. Relief.

Love.


A/N: Please review.