Chapter 29
It was still afternoon with the sun hanging in the sky. At this time of year, Isilia usually returned late in the evening, so there was still plenty of time. Ruian, who had wondered whether he should return to the mansion first, let out a sigh. There was no way Jordan would leave him alone after handing him work. It was best not to act in a way that might provoke Jordan’s temper. It had been a relentlessly busy day, but because he had forced himself to finish paperwork the previous night, he was free today. As he blankly gazed down the corridor adorned with extravagant artworks befitting a palace where the Crown Prince resided, Ruian turned at the sound of someone calling him.
“Ruian?”
Marillian stood waiting for him, dressed in her white uniform. She had not worn the black uniform gifted to her by the Crown Prince since his inauguration ceremony. Remembering the woman who had hidden in the bushes and cried on that day—a day filled with the envy and admiration of many—Ruian looked at her. Perhaps because of the white uniform, her red hair seemed even more vivid.
“I want to make up for what I couldn’t do last time… If you have time?”
The hesitant tone of her polite offer made Ruian smile awkwardly. He had refused her before, saying he was too busy with the mountain of documents Jordan had given him, yet she had not forgotten and was asking again. Returning her tear-stained handkerchief to her in that state had been rude, but urging her to give it back on the spot had hardly been gentlemanly either. Even though he told her it was fine, she had continued to insist; she must still be dwelling on it. Since he had become relatively acquainted with her from frequently visiting the Crown Prince’s office to deliver reports, it was difficult to keep refusing. Her amber eyes wavered at his awkward smile.
“I’m afraid today won’t work.”
“…I see.”
She didn’t ask for a reason and simply stepped back. Her calm voice contrasted with the disappointment lingering in her gaze. When Isilia was young, she would ask what was wrong every single time—it had been terribly bothersome. He missed the girl who would widen her golden eyes and chirp like a baby bird far more than this demure reaction.
…Ridiculous thoughts, considering he was the one who built the walls and hurt those who approached him. What right did he have? Dwelling on the past was disrespectful to his wife as well. His expression twisted with self-disgust. When he suddenly frowned after standing there silently, Marillian approached in surprise and asked what was wrong. Ruian shook his head, saying it was nothing.
“Are you truly all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Forgive my discourtesy.”
Contrary to appearances, she was quite persistent. It wouldn’t do to reject her any further. As someone who frequently came and went from the Crown Prince’s office, he wished to avoid strained relations with his aide. Besides, coming from a family famed for martial prowess, she was unlike most ladies—knowledgeable in both the arts and combat, making her an easy conversational partner. Even with his only close friend, Raymond, there were times they didn’t get along, so it would be a shame to lose someone with whom he conversed so well.
“…If His Highness approves the documents I submitted, I should have some time.”
The rest could be handled slowly. He had already returned the paperwork that Jordan had clearly dumped on him, so once the documents he passed along were reviewed, he would be free again. It all depended on how diligently Jordan worked… And knowing his temperament, he would take care of the urgent matters and handle the rest at leisure. Since he wouldn’t be able to return to the mansion anyway, accepting an unwanted invitation to pass the time seemed more efficient. Sensing his reluctant agreement, Marillian nodded and smiled.
“I won’t take much of your time. Thank you, Ruian.”
He froze at the clear joy in her smile. It resembled the childlike smile Isilia used to wear. Their faces were different, but the feeling was the same. Noticing her amber eyes fill with a hint of confusion, he withdrew his gaze and smiled faintly. Foolish of me, to reminisce when I know I shouldn’t. Hiding the mocking smile that tried to surface, Ruian followed Marillian out of the palace.
“…Is it not to your taste?”
She had led him to a fine restaurant frequented by nobles. At her cautious question, Ruian shook his head. Neither he nor she lacked the funds, being from ducal families, but the place was far too familiar—that was the problem. When he exhaled thoughtlessly, he caught her amber eyes widening in visible alarm.
“…It’s fine.”
Reacting to every little movement made him feel as though he had to be careful even when breathing. He had assumed that because she rarely attended social gatherings, she paid no mind to others’ feelings—but perhaps not. Sighing in the presence of a lady could easily be taken as a silent gesture of displeasure. He hadn’t meant it that way, but there was no need for her to apologize. When he reassured her, she smiled, seemingly unbothered despite suffering his discourtesy twice now.
“This place is known for its mild and refined dishes, which many enjoy.”
“‘Le Blessian’ is also one of His Highness’s favorite places.”
“Is it? Even someone out of touch with rumors like me would have heard if he had come… So he must visit in secret.”
She whispered quietly, as though afraid someone might overhear. Ruian nodded. The high-end restaurant Le Blessian was famous throughout society. It also happened to be one of the Crown Prince Jordan’s favorite spots to drag him to. The food was excellent, but the memories associated with the Crown Prince were not. He regretted not dining with the children at the mansion instead.
“……”
Now that he thought of it, he had never brought Isilia or the children here. Why had that never occurred to him? Every time Jordan dragged him out, he regretted not having made plans in advance with them. He had never traveled with his family or eaten out with them since the children were born. The realization struck him abruptly. He had been that indifferent.
“……”
The realization weighed on him, suffocating and heavy. His pace slowed noticeably, prompting Marillian to ask whether the food didn’t suit him. He brushed off the concern and simply wished the moment would pass quickly. Once their business here ended, they would have to return to the palace—where the Crown Prince was undoubtedly grinding his teeth. That man was often more childish than the children, and was bound to cause trouble. Leaving Le Blessian, they headed back. As the palace drew closer, the smile on Marillian’s lips deepened. When he stared at her, puzzled, her amber eyes narrowed.
“When you’re with His Highness, your expression—which is usually so blank—shows all sorts of reactions.”
“…Does it?”
He didn’t feel particularly pleased. But he couldn’t afford to be rude again. Worried his displeasure might show, he responded as evenly as he could. Marillian stopped smiling.
“…You don’t seem pleased. If my comment offended you, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything improper by it.”
“It’s fine. But did it show?”
“No, your face was as expressionless as ever.”
Then how did she know he wasn’t pleased? It wasn’t as though he deliberately lived with a stiff demeanor. He simply didn’t need to display his emotions for life to function smoothly. Unnecessary expenditure of emotion was exhausting. So Ruian lived the way that suited him. Others saw him as cold, emotionless, calculating—but he hadn’t thought that a problem. If anything, it prevented people from trifling with him. He hadn’t considered that his reticence might hurt someone—until he learned it through Isilia.
[*Sometimes… I just want to see you smile.*]
A soft voice had told him that. The brave little confession had wilted without response. Shocked by something no one had ever pointed out, he behaved even more stiffly than usual. Her golden eyes had shimmered with hurt as she looked at him. Ah. I wounded her. He realized then how long he had been hurting her with his complacency.
He knew how to treat others, how to match the expression and demeanor they wanted. It had never bothered him. It was simply part of the job—something he did without thinking.
But… that wasn’t how he should have treated Isilia. Once he started meeting her gaze, even a fake smile became hard to muster. She seemed even more hurt by that… yet he didn’t know how to change. He remained stiff and distant, and the bright golden eyes slowly dried up.
“……”
Why only with her…? Had he at least pretended to smile, she would have been happy, but he simply couldn’t. He didn’t understand himself. And even now, he would do nothing—only think and then let another day pass unchanged. He wouldn’t reach out; he would simply stand still. It felt like wandering endlessly in a maze.
“Are you all right?”
“…Pardon?”
The sudden question pulled him from his thoughts. They were facing the opposite direction of the Crown Prince’s office; he had turned his head to bid her farewell, only to be confronted with the unexpected question. Realizing his confusion, Marillian sighed.
“You look troubled. About what happened at Le Blessian…”
“It truly wasn’t that. I was thinking about another matter. Did it really show? My apologies—I’ve been nothing but discourteous today.”
