TBHHB 05

Chapter 5

“Hmm.”

At the steward’s words, Alfredo frowned.

Why does she keep catching my attention?

To be honest, Alfredo had no particular feelings toward Romian. At present, the Linhardt family had no daughters of an appropriate age whom they could put forward as candidates for Crown Princess, so he did not think it was a bad thing that Romian—a girl from such an insignificant family that she could hardly even be called a faction—occupied that position.

If I hadn’t seen her like that…

But when he recalled her staggering along in the dress of the late Queen Nella, sympathy naturally welled up inside him. Alfredo stared at Dukein. This time, it seemed he had lost again, because he was pounding the table in a fury, his face bright red with anger.

They have the same face, but their behavior couldn’t be more different.

Just as Alfredo reached that conclusion, the steward whispered to him in a rather biting tone.

“He’s greedy and impatient. Every dealer is delighted whenever he comes because they think they’ve caught themselves a big fish. There’s nothing to be gained from getting close to him.”

“Hmm.”

Alfredo hummed again, rubbing his smooth chin thoughtfully. The family might have somehow risen in rank and gained a fief, but money did not simply appear overnight. Besides, the county granted to them when they were elevated was an ordinary territory without any particularly profitable source of income.

Frowning, Alfredo said,

“Still, if he comes every day, loses money, and then comes back again, I suppose their financial situation can’t be that bad.”

“How could that possibly be? He obviously pawned something at the pawnshop across the street and came here with the money.”

“Hmm.”

So this was a family that shouldn’t even have had anything worth pawning in the first place.

“He really isn’t someone worth your attention, Young Master. You shouldn’t even bother remembering his name…”

“Let’s go.”

“What?”

The steward’s eyes widened.

Alfredo curled up the corners of his lips into a mischievous grin.

“I’m a little curious.”

Shihab was dreaming.

It was a dream of when he was very, very young, when all he could do was barely walk.

Father.

He desperately searched for his father.

His biological mother had died immediately after giving birth to him, and Henri IV was the only family he had in this world.

But Henri IV had never embraced him. Far from embracing him, whenever he looked at Shihab, his face would twist as though he were looking at something disgusting.

Even though he was constantly wounded by his father, Shihab continued to crave his affection.

It was only natural for a child.

But in the garden where he finally found his father, beautiful women with golden hair and the children who resembled them were laughing merrily, their voices like music.

Shihab was deeply shocked by the sight of Henri IV smiling kindly as he kissed the children.

He turned to his nanny, Mrs. Bessel, and asked,

Bessel, who are all those people?

“They are Her Highness Consort Josepha and her children. They are the Crown Prince’s half-siblings.”

Half-siblings?

Her answer sounded as distant as though she were speaking another language.

Shihab stared blankly at them for a moment before asking again in a desperate voice,

But why is Father embracing them so affectionately?

“Th-that’s…”

It was then.

Henri IV’s black eyes, which had been gazing at the children, turned directly toward Shihab.

The face that was identical to Shihab’s own, as though he were looking into a mirror, glared at him with an icy chill.

Because you took Nella away from me!

“Gasp!”

Shihab’s eyes flew open.

He shot upright so suddenly that the sofa he had been reclining on shook violently.

Covering his face with his large hands, Shihab blinked repeatedly.

“What on earth…”

The familiar surroundings slowly came into focus.

It was his office.

His chief aide, who had been organizing the Crown Prince’s schedule in one corner of the room, hurried over in surprise.

“Are you all right, Your Highness?”

Perhaps because of the terrible dream, Shihab’s head throbbed painfully. Even when he looked outside, he could not tell whether it was morning or evening, so he asked in a low, subdued voice,

“…What time is it?”

“There is still some time before your next engagement. I thought the morning swordsmanship training must have exhausted you, so I didn’t wake you.”

The aide cautiously watched Shihab’s expression.

Shihab returned to being his usual expressionless Crown Prince and smoothed out his wrinkled shirt.

“I see.”

Apparently, he had taken a short nap.

Shihab twisted his lips bitterly.

The reason he had fallen into such a deep dream in such a short time immediately came to mind.

It’s all because of that woman.

Romian Veldegart.

His fiancée of ten whole years.

She was not the sort of breathtaking beauty who made people widen their eyes in amazement, but the more one looked at her, the more she possessed an inexplicable charm that seemed to draw them in.

Her golden hair, fluttering in the wind, was so beautiful that he unconsciously wanted to reach out and catch it. Her long, slender white neck made her look especially fragile. Her light brown eyes appeared gentle and warm, but whenever she happened to smile, she wore an unbearably melancholy expression, like shattered glass.

The only reason she had taken the place beside him was that appearance.

Nella. You’ve come back to life.

When Henri IV first saw Romian, he had wept and embraced her.

He had taken dozens of women who resembled Queen Nella and brought them into the harem, but none of them had resembled Nella as closely as Romian.

I happen to have a son who looks just like me…

All of the half-siblings born to his consorts had golden hair like their mothers.

Yet, by some cruel twist of fate, Shihab, the son born to Queen Nella, looked exactly like Henri IV—as though he had been carved from the same mold.

Henri IV had hated that resemblance so much that it made him sick.

But this time, it worked in his favor.

After all, Nella had been engaged to him when he was only eight years old.

It really is like looking at Nella.

For that one reason alone, Henri IV had made Romian the Crown Prince’s fiancée.

And he had genuinely been happy watching their engagement ceremony, as though he were bringing back a beloved past that could never return.

Of course, Shihab had also been curious and hopeful when he first heard about Romian.

What kind of person is she?

He had never seen Queen Nella even once. All he knew about her came from what others told him.

She was kind.

She was beautiful.

She was quiet and gentle, but stubborn as well.

And when Shihab saw Romian, who matched all those descriptions perfectly, he could not stop his feelings from rushing toward her.

I heard she’s a year older than me. Should I call her Noona?

Even though the words came out stiffly with nervousness, she had smiled kindly and answered him.

Just call me Romian, Your Highness.

How full his heart had felt at that smile.

He remembered lowering his head because he could not hide how hopelessly excited he was.

If only I hadn’t seen what came afterward.

Shihab turned away bitterly and rose from his seat.

If he remained sitting there, he felt as though nothing but unpleasant memories would continue to surface.

It would have been better if I had never met her.

Then he would have had no reason to suffer from this feeling that he was becoming such an inadequate person.

Just as Shihab let out a long sigh, someone spoke.

“Your Highness, Viscount Linhardt requests an audience.”

“Alfredo?”

At the visit from his cousin, who had come only yesterday, Shihab tilted his head in puzzlement.

He then moved his long legs and headed toward the drawing room where Alfredo was waiting.

A handsome young man with brown hair swept behind his ears was leisurely drinking black tea.

Shihab let out a small, incredulous laugh at Alfredo’s attitude, as though he considered the royal palace his own home.

Still, Alfredo did have the bloodline and qualifications to justify such familiarity.

Instead of bothering with formalities, Shihab dropped heavily into the seat opposite him.

“I thought we finished talking yesterday. Is there something else you want to discuss about the Hunting Festival? Or has something changed?”

“Do you know what this is, Shihab?”

Alfredo took something from inside his coat and held it out to Shihab.

It was a small tiara.

A ruby about the size of a thumbnail sat at its center, surrounded by a closely set arrangement of teardrop-shaped diamonds. It was small, but elegant and obviously expensive.

“What is this?”

Shihab frowned.

As a man, there was only so much information he could glean from looking at a tiara.

He folded his arms and stared at Alfredo as if asking what kind of trick he was playing.

Alfredo pointed at the tiara with his chin.

“Look closely.”

“…”

What exactly was the problem?

With an unimpressed expression, Shihab finally picked up the tiara.

His long fingers slowly rotated it once.

Then his shoulders stiffened.

There were letters engraved on it.

Nella.

It was his mother’s name.

Is this Mother’s possession?

But the belongings of Queen Nella were being strictly managed under Henri IV’s orders, preserved beneath the veil of memories.

Each item had been assigned a number, and whenever Henri IV missed Queen Nella, he would enter the storage chamber and look through her belongings.

No one dared steal them.

Then why is this in Alfredo’s hands?

Shihab turned toward Alfredo again with a bewildered expression.

Alfredo placed his teacup down with a soft clink.

Then he looked directly at Shihab with a serious expression.

“I bought this from a pawnshop yesterday. There were also two dresses, a cameo brooch, a necklace, and two sets of earrings.”

“…”

Who dared—

A faint anger rose across Shihab’s face.

Seeing the bluish veins standing out along his jaw, Alfredo squeezed his eyes shut.

In truth, Alfredo had been lucky.

If it had not been for the dark green dress he had seen just yesterday, even he would not have immediately realized that these were Queen Nella’s possessions.

“The name of the person who pawned them was Dukein Veldegart.”

“Dukein… Veldegart?”

Shihab repeated Alfredo’s words slowly.

Then his eyes widened.

Veldegart?

Wasn’t that an all-too-familiar name?

Seeing Shihab stare at him as though doubting his own ears, Alfredo let out a low sigh.

“Yes. Your fiancée’s older brother.”

Everything about the situation made perfect sense.

Who could have stolen Queen Nella’s possessions from a treasure vault that was guarded like a fortress?

It meant that the king himself had taken them out and given them to someone.

And there was only one person in the entire kingdom who could have received such gifts.

Romian Veldegart.

She had been selling the things she received?

No matter how little affection Henri IV had shown him while raising him, Nella was still Shihab’s only mother.

The thought that someone had treated her belongings so carelessly made anger surge through him.

“…”

If he spoke now, he felt he might do something rash in the heat of his emotions.

So Shihab clenched his jaw and kept his mouth shut.

Even so, his fists tightened on their own, the tendons standing out on the backs of his hands.

Alfredo watched him for a moment before interlocking his fingers.

“So, what do you want to do, Shihab? I came to the palace in such a hurry today because I wanted to hear your opinion before deciding how to handle this.”

Do you want to tell His Majesty the truth and have him severely punished?

Or should we bury this between ourselves?

That was what Alfredo was asking.