Chapter 9
And so, two weeks passed.
One of the biggest events in the Kingdom of Baudelaire, the Hunting Festival, finally began.
The Hunting Festival had originated as a custom meant to spend the hot, leisurely days between the end of the busy farming season and the harvest by hunting in the cool forests. For the nobles, it was also an important occasion to showcase the bravery of the knights belonging to their families.
Above all, noble ladies would present ribbons to young noblemen, who would tie the ribbons around their sword scabbards and proudly display them during the festival. Because of this, unmarried nobles had been buzzing with excitement well before the Hunting Festival, chattering about who had given ribbons to whom and who had received them from whom.
In other words, it was a major event that could not be overlooked even in the marriage market.
Naturally, the one who attracted the most attention was the highest-ranking unmarried man in the kingdom.
The Crown Prince, Shihab.
Eighteen years old. Although he was still at an age when he should not have completely shed the air of a boy, Shihab Napolinus, who walked in with the heavy sound of his boots, was unmistakably a young man.
One of the noble ladies who had been closely observing him covered her mouth with her fan and whispered.
“He looks so dependable. But his scabbard is empty again this year.”
“He refuses ribbons from other ladies just as coldly as he refuses his fiancée’s.”
“I love how strict he is about his private life, too.”
“But he is His Majesty Henri IV’s son, after all. I’m sure that once he finds a woman he loves, he’ll burn with passion.”
“Oh my, I’m already jealous of whichever woman that will be.”
Their conversation contained an unspoken assumption.
Shihab already had a fiancée.
And yet he kept women at an almost obsessive distance.
In other words, the premise behind all their words was already firmly established:
Shihab does not love Romian. Not now, and not ever.
How long can she possibly hold on to that position?
If His Majesty the King changes his mind, you’ll be finished immediately.
Naturally, sharp gazes turned toward Romian.
The Veldegart family was the daughter of a minor house with virtually no influence and not even the wealth of a lower-ranking noble family.
Despite feeling every single one of those piercing gazes directed at her, Romian’s steps remained steady as she climbed onto the platform.
Only members of the royal family were normally permitted to stand upon that platform. Romian was allowed to do so solely because she was the Crown Prince’s fiancée.
Many people were deeply displeased by that fact as well.
The more difficult things become, the more composed I have to be.
As though she could not feel the gazes upon her, Romian lifted her chin and climbed the platform with a calm and dignified bearing.
Shihab was already standing there.
Romian gathered the hem of her skirt and carefully bowed.
“I greet Baudelaire’s Little Sun.”
“……”
There was no answer from Shihab.
Romian’s face remained slightly lowered, and her eyelashes trembled like the delicate fluttering wings of a fragile butterfly.
He’s still angry.
Only two weeks had passed since the incident involving Dukein’s pawnshop.
Well, if I were him, I probably wouldn’t have gotten over it either.
It had been a keepsake belonging to his mother, who had died when he was young, before Romian had even really known her face.
How precious must it have been to him?
And yet they had taken it to a pawnshop and exchanged it for money.
And apparently, Dukein Oppa pawned everything and squandered it all.
If there had been any money left, Romian would have returned it to him.
But the Veldegart family simply did not have the means to repay three hundred million dena.
Her shameless parents had forgotten about the three hundred million dena the moment they learned that the Crown Prince had forgiven them.
Only Romian was still desperately worrying over it.
“Your Highness.”
Romian’s light brown eyes swept over Shihab’s empty scabbard.
It had not been long since she had embroidered a ribbon bearing his name, only to have it rejected.
Whenever she remembered that moment, her shoulders instinctively shrank.
But she gathered her courage.
I don’t want us to go on like this forever.
At present, there was no one around her whom she could rely on.
Neither her parents nor her siblings were people she could trust.
So at least Shihab.
At least you.
I want to tell you everything honestly, too.
For that to happen, their relationship could not remain as it was now.
Romian bit her lip.
Then, cautiously, she took out a handkerchief.
It was the beautiful handkerchief she had embroidered after spending several days and nights without sleep.
Golden osmanthus blossoms bloomed across the fabric.
The language of the golden osmanthus was:
“I am approaching you.”
It was a gift that contained Romian’s true feelings in their entirety.
“Even if you hate me, please accept the handkerchief. If nothing else, please accept it for the sake of Your Highness’s dignity.”
“……”
Shihab’s gaze fell upon the handkerchief.
Even from the corner that had not yet been fully unfolded, it was obvious that an extraordinary amount of effort had gone into making it.
Why on earth is she giving me this?
Shihab’s brows instinctively furrowed.
In the short time it took him to look around, he understood the entire situation.
The two of them were standing on the platform at the Hunting Festival, while the King had yet to arrive.
As a result, all the nobles who had arrived early were looking directly at them.
And yet she was offering him a handkerchief at a time like this?
If I reject it, this will surely become an incredibly humiliating spectacle.
He could not tell whether she had deliberately chosen this timing because she wanted exactly that outcome, or whether she truly had no idea what she was doing.
Is she cunning or simply stupid?
After studying Romian with deep eyes for a moment, Shihab abruptly turned his head away.
Regardless of the reason, he had no intention of accepting even the most insignificant thing from her.
Especially something like a handkerchief or ribbon that had clearly required effort to make.
“I don’t need it.”
“Your Highness.”
Frustrated by Shihab’s attitude, Romian unconsciously stepped closer to him.
Seeing the white face suddenly draw near, Shihab instinctively took a step backward.
And then—
“Nella!”
A familiar voice called Romian by a completely different name.
Both Romian and Shihab stiffened and turned their heads.
Standing there was Henri IV, his eyes glistening with tears and his face filled with emotion.
Nella?
Romian blinked.
She already knew that he projected Queen Nella onto her.
But it was rare for him to mistake her so completely for Nella that he even shed tears.
What am I supposed to say to him…?
As Romian stood there in confusion, Shihab stepped forward.
As though shielding Romian from him.
In a stiff yet respectful tone, he addressed the King.
“Father, Lady Veldegart must be bewildered.”
“Shihab.”
The King’s gaze, which had been sparkling with joy, seemed to turn pitch-black the moment it fell upon Shihab.
The change in emotion was so brutally obvious that even Romian, watching him, flinched and trembled.
After briefly touching his cheek with a confused expression, Henri IV belatedly met Romian’s gaze and gave her a bitter smile.
“I apologize. You look particularly similar to Nella today.”
“Oh, no. I am Romian Veldegart. It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.”
“Call me Father, if you wish.”
“……”
The words he directed toward her were still warm.
Yet somehow, they felt more uncomfortable than usual, as though she were sitting on a bed of thorns.
Perhaps it was because Shihab was standing only one step in front of her.
Why does he look so displeased?
Shihab had never looked particularly happy whenever he was around Romian, but today felt different.
If she had to put it into words—
He looks tense…
Why would he be so tense around his own father?
And yet Shihab was unmistakably wearing an expression filled with both tension and disgust, as though he were looking at someone who intended to take his life.
And Henri IV was no different.
“You look tired. Come here, Romian.”
“……Yes.”
After briefly watching the expressions of the two men, Romian took a step toward Henri IV as he beckoned her over.
As she passed slightly by Shihab, she glanced at his face.
By coincidence, her eyes met Shihab’s directly.
“……!!”
His gaze was tangled with all kinds of emotions.
Betrayal.
Irritation.
A sense of loss.
And more.
Why are you looking at me like that?
She could not understand why such a deep whirlpool of emotion was visible in his eyes when he supposedly felt nothing for her.
Just as Romian was momentarily captivated by his gaze, Henri IV also observed her, just as she and Shihab had been observing each other.
And then he noticed the white handkerchief tightly clenched in her fingers.
“What is that?”
“Ah.”
Romian belatedly realized that she had failed to hide the handkerchief against her chest.
It was the handkerchief she had embroidered specifically to give to Shihab.
Before she could explain the circumstances, Henri IV reached out and snatched the handkerchief from her hands.
Once fully unfolded, the golden osmanthus blossoms, each embroidered in a delicate reddish-orange shade, were so beautiful that they looked like real flowers had been placed upon the fabric.
It was a masterpiece rarely seen.
A broad smile blossomed across Henri IV’s face.
“Did you bring this to give to me? How did you know I liked golden osmanthus?”
“Th-that…”
I didn’t make it for you.
But it was difficult to say such a thing to someone whose face was shining with such childlike delight.
While Romian flustered helplessly, Henri IV had already completed the entire story in his own mind.
He clapped his hands excitedly and said,
“I have nothing to give you in return, but… Shihab!”
“Yes, Father.”
Shihab, who had been standing beside them with an expressionless face, politely lowered his head at the King’s call.
Romian somehow found herself unable to look at Shihab, so she lowered her head deeply.
As though he could not sense the uncomfortable atmosphere between the two of them at all, Henri IV smiled brightly and ordered Shihab,
“Go and hunt a deer for Romian. Find a pretty one with white markings that resemble Romian.”
“Yes.”
A deer with white markings was also an animal Henri IV had once hunted and presented to Queen Nella.
Whether he truly loved the Queen or was simply intoxicated by his own inability to forget and mourn her, the boundary was unclear.
But the man would casually drag scenes from the past into the present as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Romian lowered her head.
Not only had she presented the handkerchief originally intended for Shihab to the King, but now she was also going to receive a return gift from Shihab.
It was utterly unacceptable.
“Ah, no, Your Majesty. That is far too much for me. Please reconsider your command.”
“Far too much? Nonsense. Shihab should also show you some affection as your fiancé.”
“B-but…”
That is something that applies only to couples who are actually affectionate with each other.
Romian could not bring herself to say those words aloud, so she tightly closed her mouth.
Oblivious to her feelings, Henri IV did not withdraw his command.
Romian lowered her head and tightly clasped both her hands together.
Before leaving to hunt, Shihab formally bid her farewell and kissed the back of her hand.
Then, in a voice so quiet that only Romian could hear, he whispered,
“You really are cunning. Have you been dealing with all the gifts I rejected this way as well?”
That’s not what happened.
Romian wanted to explain herself.
But he had already turned around and walked far away.
Romian could only stare blankly at Shihab’s retreating back.
