BVIB 24

Chapter 24

“…Ah.”

Arma stood there, his lips parting in silent shock.

He hadn’t expected to be rejected so bluntly, right to his face. At the very least, he’d thought she would offer an explanation—but she hadn’t even done that.

“M-my lady!” he called out, hurrying after her.

Luckily, Roselyn hadn’t gone far. She stood frozen in the corridor, startled by the flurry of servants rushing in every direction.

Arma stopped short, holding his breath as he watched her. She looked completely bewildered, as if she couldn’t quite believe that all this commotion was for her—like someone stumbling upon a scene that defied logic.

…What’s going on? he wondered.

In truth, being ignored by others was nothing new for Arma; he’d grown up with it. But Roselyn had always been different.

From the first time they met, she’d been timid, reserved, and rarely spoke unless spoken to. Still, not once had she looked at him with disdain.

She might have ignored other people’s questions, but she always answered his.

Of course, it hadn’t been that way from the start. In the beginning, she’d kept her guard up, wary of everyone—including him.

But the more he reached out, the more he spoke to her, the more those thorns seemed to recede whenever she looked at him.

Through persistence, Arma felt he’d come to know Roselyn quite well.

Or at least, he thought he had.

And yet…

What is this…?

Now, it felt as if the thorns she once showed the world were reserved for him alone.

He couldn’t help recalling her cold, matter-of-fact voice:

“So I’m sorry, but I’d appreciate it if you’d let me be. I prefer someone with a bright future, a strong sense of self, and a bit more masculinity… someone a little rough around the edges.”

As Roselyn started walking away again, Arma forced himself to keep his smile in place, even as it threatened to falter.

He’d heard the rumors—about her wanting to end her own life.

Even for Arma, it had been a shock to learn just how far she’d been pushed, how close to the edge. He’d always thought she shared everything with him.

But thinking back, he realized she never truly spoke of her hardships.

Her words had always been about the mundane: meals, teatime, strolls, the books she was reading.

Drawing himself up, Arma strode after her, closing the distance in a few quick steps.

“Roselyn.”

At his call, Roselyn stopped and glanced back.

“…Your Highness, the Third Prince?” she said, her expression making it clear she wondered why he was still following her.

Arma managed a hesitant smile and asked carefully, “Why is it that my brother is allowed to go to Kaluta, but I’m not, my lady?”

“Oh. It’s because you’re the opposite of my type,” Roselyn replied flatly.

In that instant, Arma froze where he stood, watching as Roselyn walked away, his gaze trembling with shock and disbelief.

She really was moving forward without a single glance back, as if she had truly let go of every lingering feeling.

“Someone with a bright future…”

It was true—the second prince, who was preparing himself to be a worthy supporter to their elder brother, certainly had a brighter future than Arma, the timid third prince.

“A strong sense of self…”

The second prince’s convictions were unmistakable. If anything, his opinions were so strong they bordered on obstinacy, and at times his personality could be downright unpleasant. But there was no denying his sense of self.

“Someone with masculinity…”

When comparing the second and third prince, even Arma had to admit that, objectively, his brother had more of that so-called masculine energy.

Naturally.

Arma’s reputation was that of someone who was pushed around by both older brothers, and who didn’t even dare speak up to the servants.

“Someone a bit rough around the edges…”

In other words, “rough” was just a polite way of describing his brother’s abrasive nature.

And, looking at it that way, Roselyn’s “ideal type” fit the second prince perfectly.

The first prince, unlike the second, didn’t speak rashly nor did he go out of his way to be bothersome or cruel—though he managed to be irritating in his own way.

Annoying, just for an entirely different reason.

Regardless, it all pointed to one truth: Roselyn’s ideal type, when laid out plainly, was the second prince.

The realization left Arma reeling.

He had never wanted to be emperor. It was tedious, exhausting, and the last thing he wanted was to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him act according to his wishes.

…But why does it bother me so much?

Arma wrestled with his thoughts.

He’d tried his best to be kind to her—so why had she chosen the second prince over him?

He resumed walking, lifting his head slowly. By now, Roselyn had vanished from sight.

And, just like always, she hadn’t looked back. That much had never changed.

“Ah…”

Only then did Arma truly realize it. Thinking back, not once had she ever turned around to look for him first.

She’d never answered a question before he asked it.

Never initiated a conversation or met him halfway.

So, in truth…

They had never really been close.

The realization hit him hard, his eyes widening in shock.

The meaning was painfully simple.

Roselyn had never once opened her heart to him.

It had all been his own misunderstanding.

Or perhaps it had just been her pity.

Or maybe she’d sensed the curiosity, the other intentions, behind his approach.

Whenever he saw her, Roselyn always had lifeless eyes, shoulders hunched, doing her best to avoid everyone’s gaze.

…I thought she cared about me, but maybe not. Or maybe she’s simply let go of everything.

If she’d found the courage to contemplate death, surely she’d found the strength to let go of everything else as well.

In that moment—when Roselyn had decided to end her own life—she must have resolved to erase, to forget, and to abandon it all.

…So that’s why she broke off the engagement and tried to move on—to find someone whose looks or personality actually matched her ideal.

If I just let her go to Kaluta with my brother…

Kaluta—a barbaric land, where women wore revealing clothes without shame, and kissing in public was a common, scandalous display.

“No way.”

The thought twisted something inside Arma. He shook his head, refusing to accept it.

Without another thought for propriety, he tore down the corridor, chasing after Roselyn with all the desperation he could muster.

He spotted her ahead and, gathering himself, reached out and caught her by the wrist—gently, so as not to hurt her.

“…Go—” Roselyn started, but Arma’s head snapped up, cutting her off.

“…Your Highness, the Third Prince?” she said, frowning in confusion.

Arma met her startled gaze, breathless but determined. “I’ll do it!”

“…Excuse me?” Roselyn stared at him, baffled, as if wondering what nonsense he was spouting now.

“I—I’ll become the kind of man with a strong sense of self, with masculinity—someone rough around the edges!” he declared, his voice echoing so loudly down the corridor that everything went silent.

Servants, soldiers, even the chief attendant—all stopped in their tracks, holding their breath at the spectacle.

Roselyn, still processing his words, let out a belated, quiet gasp.

“…Ah.”

Is he trying to get re-engaged to the princess of Kaluta?

A strange feeling stirred inside her. She pressed a hand to her chest, unsettled, hesitating before she slowly nodded.

She had planned to use the second prince for an engagement with Kaluta’s princess. If it ended up being the third prince instead, it wouldn’t really change her plans.

“That’s fine,” she said quietly.

Yes, there was no problem with it at all.

“All right,” Arma replied, his face breaking into a radiant smile.

Thump.

…There shouldn’t have been a problem. And yet, for some reason, her heart gave a loud, unexpected beat.