#40. The Opportunity Might Come Back Around
At first glance, it sounded as if the king was offering her something to replace the power she had lost. But he had no reason to do that.
If she truly wanted to understand the truth, she had to flip his words and consider them from the other side.
The king wasn’t trying to introduce someone to her—he was orchestrating this entire situation to hand her over to that person.
Anika swallowed dryly. Despite seeing the tension and mistrust on her face, the king continued speaking as if nothing was wrong.
“As you know, I’ll be getting married soon.”
It was a widely known fact, having spread throughout all of Aglante.
Anika recalled the king’s fiancée whom she had seen earlier. The woman had large blue eyes and the signature silver hair of the Reden royal family. She was beautiful but extremely quiet. Anika had never seen her speak to anyone aside from her betrothed.
“I’d rather not offer the stiff-necked aristocrats of Edegrun as a wedding gift to a woman who crossed the border just for me.”
In other words, he wanted Anika to endear herself to the new queen and replace the capital’s existing power players.
It was coercive, but not necessarily a bad offer. Anika didn’t know much about the new queen, but royalty sat at the pinnacle of power.
Still, the unease didn’t disappear.
Anika didn’t believe the king had killed her supporter just to assign a young noble to stand beside his wife.
But she couldn’t dare ask the king why he had killed her father—especially when it was said that a beast had done it. How could she ask the king about that?
She didn’t know what had caused the rift between her father and the king.
All she could do was speak as cautiously as possible.
“I worry the gift might be too modest and cause offense.”
“I can cover a few flaws, so don’t worry. I lost my father at your age, so I know how disorienting it can be.”
He said this without blinking once, and then gave her a faint smile. A smile that only deepened the confusion if one remembered how the previous king had died.
That confusion still lingered.
Anika watched as the king finished their conversation and climbed into his carriage. Once that carriage left, she would have no time to breathe. She’d have to send off the guests and clean up the mess.
The king had given her three months, and if she didn’t meet the deadline, she would be the one accompanying him to the hunting grounds next time.
The Lord of Rohos was dead.
Because his highness the prince was too busy, Bahamal attended the funeral in his stead.
He was there to comfort the daughter who had suddenly inherited her father’s burdens, to deliver the prince’s letter to the Reden princess staying in the castle, and to retrieve something while he was at it.
The King of Aglante attended the funeral, but the Reden princess did not. Though she stayed in the castle, she was not receiving visitors.
So Bahamal could not deliver the letter.
This was because his master had said:
“If you can meet Ophelia, give her this. If not, don’t bother.”
The young man had spoken those words with a shadow over his beautiful face—an enduring sadness ever since he had last met his longtime friend, the Reden princess.
Bahamal had served beside him throughout that formal dinner with the princess and had overheard their argument.
No—it couldn’t even be called an argument. Bahamal had clearly witnessed how desperately his master had pleaded.
He had tried to persuade her, asked, and finally nearly begged.
That agonizingly one-sided conversation had ended with a single sentence from the princess:
“I should get going now.”
Then she left the tent, abandoning the young man inside. Bahamal saw the despair written all over his master’s face as he watched her go.
The news of Lord Rohos’s death came the next day.
On the way back from the funeral, Bahamal stared down at the blue waves and thought: I hope His Highness won’t be so generous to that prince this time.
While Bahamal was away, the prince had departed for Reden. The trip had long been scheduled and could not be delayed any further.
Bahamal thought his master had no reason to be kind to the Reden prince anymore.
The prince had always been kind to him—so kind he had even lent him a large sum of money despite the prince’s spendthrift nature. That said enough.
The Reden prince believed he had borrowed from a merchant guild he’d stumbled across. But in truth, that guild belonged to his master.
Had the prince known that, he wouldn’t have so easily handed his sister off to another man.
When asked in the past why he hadn’t told the prince the truth, the young man replied:
“How ashamed would Prince Mahanas be? He always acts so wealthy in front of me, but imagine if people found out how deep in debt he is.”
Bahamal believed that such shame was the prince’s burden to bear. But his master had a different opinion.
“I don’t want to shame him. He’s Ophelia’s brother.”
Not long after Bahamal was impressed by such sensitivity, news came that the Reden princess had broken off her engagement with the heir of Lakmata. He had died, making the engagement impossible to maintain.
His master genuinely worried for his friend who now faced such sudden tragedy.
“Ophelia truly loved Haslen. Even if he committed crimes… losing someone like that must be unbearably painful.”
So the young man wrote a letter to comfort her heart—but received no reply.
Around that time, rumors began to swirl that Prince Mahanas was seeking a new fiancé for his sister.
“Maybe this time, the opportunity will come back around to me.”
He had said it with joy, and Bahamal thought it might be true.
The Reden prince would want a match who could pay a generous bride price.
But considering Reden’s situation, few would want to be tied to such a wasteful royal family. Only someone who truly loved the princess would consider marrying her.
Still, his master faced a small hurdle when it came to proposing.
According to Egelbamot’s national law, direct imperial family members could not send or receive marriage proposals without the emperor’s permission.
So his master had to visit the imperial palace repeatedly, enduring humiliation each time—because both the emperor and crown prince treated him coldly.
“At least the nobles don’t disregard me. That’s something.”
He would say this with a smile, as if familial insult didn’t hurt him. But Bahamal knew that wasn’t true. The smile only worried him more.
After a long, painful wait, the day finally came when his efforts bore fruit.
Last summer, right after the diplomatic meeting ended, the emperor placed his seal on the marriage request.
Everything seemed to fall into place—as if it were destined.
That very evening, news arrived that the King of Aglante had sent his own proposal to Reden.
From that moment, everything began to unravel.
The Reden prince made no attempt to hide his interest in accepting the Aglante king’s proposal. He balanced both sides, carefully calculating his gain.
The poor prince—Bahamal’s master—let himself be swayed, knowing all of this. Because he still held on to hope.
But not anymore. He hoped the prince would finally let it go.
The princess had already crossed the border to follow the King of Aglante.
As he cradled the silver tea container retrieved from Rohos Castle, Bahamal reflected on all this. A powerful floral scent rose from within.
Fenrel Soer, one of the Aglante king’s personal knights, had been standing in front of the Reden royal palace for over thirty minutes.
For one reason: Prince Mahanas of Reden wouldn’t let him go.
The procession needed to leave before sunset, but the prince kept holding him back with endless chatter.
The conversation had started with how precious his sister was, but had long since drifted into canal tolls between Reden and Aglante. It was clear that the sister had merely been a pretext.
Fenrel was not talkative by nature, so being stuck in conversation with the arrogant prince was exhausting. Finally, he managed to speak up.
“Your Highness, I’m very sorry, but we must depart now.”
“Oh dear, I must’ve kept you too long. I was enjoying the talk so much, I didn’t realize how time flew.”
The prince chuckled good-naturedly, seemingly unaware that he had been delivering a monologue rather than engaging in actual conversation.
Fenrel simply nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Well then, you may go now. Don’t forget to give my regards to the king. Just tell him exactly what I said.”
The prince gave the order as naturally as breathing—completely ignoring the fact that Fenrel was not his knight, but Aglante’s.
His arrogance had been on full display the entire time. While staying in Reden to prepare the bridal procession, Fenrel had seen enough of Prince Mahanas’s fussing to wonder if he thought he was the bride.
And the more the prince acted that way, the more the Reden palace creaked under the strain. It was only natural—after all, they were working so hard to fabricate a truth that wasn’t real.
