Chapter 19
The moment that annoying man, Chedorn, came up to my desk, he peeked down to see what I was doing.
I was in the middle of writing a letter to Argan when I lifted my head to look at him.
“What is it? You know it’s rude to read someone else’s letter like that.”
“You exchange letters with Argan?”
His expression looked as if he’d just been betrayed by his closest ally.
He quickly wiped the look off his face, but I’d already caught the trace of hurt in his eyes.
Really? Over a letter?
“Well, since we’re engaged in name, I guess it’s only proper. There’s nothing special in it—just polite greetings.”
I added, almost defensively,
“And I haven’t been able to set an appointment with the Duchess of Rodvalt yet. I need to remind her.”
Chedorn stared at the letter on the desk for a moment, then looked up at me with a sulky gaze.
“Send me a letter too.”
“…What?”
His request was so absurd I blinked.
“Why would I send a letter to someone I see every day? Don’t be ridiculous.”
At that, his face fell. He didn’t press the matter like before, probably recalling the list of traits I said I liked in a man.
“Ena!”
Ah, here comes “Annoying Man No. 2.”
Without knocking, Rioel burst in, brimming with energy.
I glared at him.
“Would you please knock!”
“Prince Reynold doesn’t knock either.”
“Don’t compare yourself to him! You and Chedorn… You think you’re on the same level as the Crown Prince?”
He grumbled but shut the door behind him and came in. His knight uniform was messy—probably fresh from training. He turned his slightly vacant expression toward Chedorn.
“Your Highness, what’s wrong with her?”
“How should I know?”
Rioel nodded as if that answered everything.
Funny. Not long ago he used to bolt at the sight of Chedorn, terrified. But after about three months of Chedorn staying in Rubiche, the two had somehow become the best of friends.
“I came for the letter. You said you were sending one to Argan.”
I melted some sealing wax, pressed my signet into it, and handed the letter to Rioel.
As for the letter to the Alpine Gazette, I’d just ask Maria to send it.
“Rioel, that letter’s for Argan, right?”
Chedorn’s tone was calm but firm. Rioel blinked in confusion.
Chedorn’s eyes were fixed on the letter in his hand as he muttered,
“If it’s a letter I can’t receive, then I’d rather Argan couldn’t either.”
His voice was dark—ominous even.
It sounded exactly like that cliché line: ‘If I can’t have it, no one can!’
“You said you’d give me a fair chance, didn’t you? This seems terribly unfair.”
He spoke like a dissatisfied customer filing a complaint.
I stared at him, then asked dryly,
“Would you like to go back to the Imperial Palace? Then I’ll send you letters every day.”
Better that than him showing up in my room daily to bother me.
Chedorn’s face brightened with hope, and I just stared, dumbfounded.
He’d resisted going back for months, and now he’s ready to leave just for a letter?
“Can you promise that?”
He asked in all seriousness.
Startled by how earnest he looked, I nodded.
“I promise.”
His lips curved into a smile—a radiant, angelic smile.
For a second, it really did look like light was shining behind him.
I blinked slowly and shook myself back to my senses—just in time to see Rioel stuffing the letter carelessly into his jacket pocket.
“Rioel! Make sure that letter doesn’t get wrinkled. Deliver it properly.”
“Huh? Oh, uh, sure…”
Rioel nodded awkwardly, stealing a nervous glance at Chedorn.
Chedorn’s smile was gentle and sweet, but for some reason, that only made Rioel break out in a cold sweat.
He muttered a quick goodbye and scurried out like a frightened rabbit.
“Wasn’t the Alpine University application deadline tomorrow?”
Chedorn suddenly asked, breaking my thoughts.
I thought for a moment before nodding.
“Day after tomorrow, actually. Why?”
“I’m going to apply too.”
“…What?”
That was so unexpected I almost dropped my pen.
Alpine University accepted any adult over twenty-two regardless of age—but not royalty.
Princes didn’t need to attend academies or universities; they had private imperial tutors and studied political science and governance in the palace.
“Why would you waste your time like that? Is there a subject you want to study?”
I was attending to learn magic.
The mage who once saved me, Erinda, said I had vast untapped magical potential.
I wanted to test it—and, ultimately, to find a spell that could cross dimensions.
But Chedorn? He didn’t need to study anything.
If he wanted to learn magic or swordsmanship, the empire’s best instructors would come to him.
Besides, his swordsmanship already rivaled the commander of the Imperial Guard.
Chedorn suddenly smiled—softly, dazzlingly.
Those silver locks, those golden eyes sparkling like gems—honestly unfair.
Even in his past life he’d been devastatingly handsome; apparently, the gods decided to bless him again in this one.
“You’re going there.”
He answered simply.
Yesterday, he’d been like a mad panther.
Today, he was like a giant retriever wagging his tail in front of me.
In the end, Chedorn returned to the Imperial Palace.
And so I found myself starting every morning by writing him a letter.
I couldn’t believe it—he’d refused to leave for months, yet one promise of letters and he ran back home?
Even daily letters weren’t enough. Every four days, he’d summon me to the palace.
On top of that, the Empress had started calling for me more often too.
Between mother and son, I was practically commuting to the palace every day.
I’d grown so familiar with the guards at the gate that we were on greeting terms, and I’d even become friendly with the Empress’s ladies-in-waiting, Countess Joella and Viscountess Cassel.
Thanks to the volunteer work I did with Chedorn, my reputation had greatly improved.
The sympathy I’d gained after the Serinne incident, plus the popularity of The Man of Frederica as its author, and my friendship with the Empress—
All of it combined to make me nearly untouchable in high society.
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
“I’ve been so eager to see you, I could hardly wait for today.”
The Empress smiled shyly, her cheeks flushed like a young girl’s.
I smiled back warmly.
After preparing tea, Countess Joella and Viscountess Cassel gave us a friendly look and excused themselves from the drawing room.
As soon as they left, I pulled out a letter from my pocket and handed it to the Empress.
“It’s from Erinda—the letter you mentioned. Her reply just arrived.”
The Empress gasped softly, covering her mouth with both hands.
Ever since I’d found out that the mage Erinda—the one who’d helped me in the Kingdom of Nathan—was actually her university friend, the Empress had treated me with even more affection.
She smiled as she read the letter.
“She’s coming to Alpine to see me! Thanks to you, I’ll finally see an old friend again.”
The Empress and Erinda had been classmates at Alpine University.
I’d once heard that Erinda was from a noble family, but I never imagined she’d been a noble of the Empire.
After graduation, Erinda had mysteriously vanished, and the Empress hadn’t heard from her since.
“I should mention,” I added carefully, recalling Erinda’s separate letter to me,
“She said sending letters through the palace might draw unwanted attention, so she used me as a go-between. I hope you understand.”
The Empress laughed softly.
“Lynda always hated being followed or investigated. That’s why I never tried to seek her out.”
“I understand. She can be… quite eccentric.”
That made the Empress laugh so hard she teared up.
I handed her a handkerchief, which she accepted gracefully to dab her eyes.
Then, from her bag, she produced an invitation and passed it to me.
“This is the salon invitation you asked for. It’ll be held next week—and the person you wanted to meet will be there.”
I took it eagerly.
The Empress’s private salon—an exclusive gathering of select guests.
Among them would be Allen de Dominique, one of the twelve bishops of the Ianarche Papacy.
I’d been hoping to meet him.
As the adopted daughter of the Marquis of Rubiche, I thought it would be easy.
But a Papal bishop wasn’t someone even a noble could meet so freely.
“May I ask why you wish to see Bishop Allen?” the Empress asked curiously.
“I heard that Papal bishops can offer the Prayer of God. I’d like to receive one.
I’m a devout believer of Ianarche.”
Her expression turned mildly surprised.
My foreign looks probably didn’t fit her image of a devout Ianarchean.
To be honest, even I found it strange.
Who would have thought I’d one day try to ask God about dimensional travel?
Not even Chedorn knew that I was secretly researching why and how I’d crossed dimensions—
or how to do it again.
“I see… Then I truly hope your prayers are answered.”
The Empress smiled kindly, and I simply returned the gesture with a polite, grateful nod.
