Chapter 67. Next, Next—When?
Boswell, Giuliano, Afran, May.
A mark to show that she belonged to him, something no other fool could dare covet.
Tonight, the night he had finally received official permission to marry, was the perfect moment to give her a ring.
Of course, he intended to leave other traces as well.
Even in the unseen, deepest places.
He clasped her hand—the one with the ring—locking their fingers so she couldn’t move.
Aaron’s shameless plan, which had been progressing without hesitation, was suddenly interrupted by someone.
“Del.”
A quiet voice echoed through the silent corridor.
That one voice was enough to freeze all the thoughts rushing through Aaron’s mind about tonight’s plans.
He didn’t need to look to know who it was that had called out to his princess.
Aaron turned his head away from the voice, scowling deeply.
He reluctantly released the slender waist he had been holding against him.
Muttering endless complaints inwardly, he slowly let go of Delia’s hand that had been pressed against his lips.
Delia too straightened herself after breaking free from Aaron.
“Yes.”
Around the corner came the Queen, her figure graceful as she gazed upon the two of them.
Had she seen everything?
Because the heat hadn’t yet cooled, Delia’s cheeks flushed red.
“Mother. You called for me?”
“Yes. Did you greet the Regent Duke properly?”
Feigning calm, Delia lowered her gaze slightly as she answered.
“Yes.”
Aaron still kept his head turned away, ignoring the Queen.
The Queen smiled elegantly and addressed him.
“Regent Duke. Thank you for joining us at dinner tonight.”
Swallowing back the resentment that rose to his throat, Aaron finally turned to face the Queen.
The moment he did, his face was adorned with an elegant, dignified, and utterly fake smile.
“Thank you for inviting me, Queen Eleanor. I imagine you’ll be very busy preparing for the wedding.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“As it is a union symbolizing the harmony between our two nations, the preparations must be flawless.”
The moment he would declare to the world that the princess was his—it had to be the grandest and most beautiful wedding of all time.
Something to be remembered forever.
So that the Princess of Iorenti would be eternally remembered as Aaron’s.
Strengthening his resolve, Aaron declared to the Queen:
“Our Empire will take care of all the preparations.”
At his bold statement, the Queen gripped her gown tightly.
Iorenti could not back down.
Though they had been forced to yield in war due to lack of power, in matters of dignity and pride, Iorenti was no less.
Matching his determination, the Queen declared:
“As it must suit the dignity of both nations, the royal house of Iorenti will also spare no effort in preparing.”
Their eyes clashed sharply in the air, brimming with fierce will over the wedding preparations.
Only Delia, caught between them, looked troubled.
“There will be much we must discuss together, I see.”
“Indeed.”
“To coordinate matters regarding the wedding, I will visit again soon.”
“I’ll be waiting, Regent Duke. And next time, there’s no need to bring such extravagant gifts.”
Aaron dodged with a sly smile.
“Then, I shall take my leave.”
“Do return safely, Regent Duke.”
The Queen and Aaron exchanged flawless, graceful courtesies.
But neither could conceal their desire to be rid of the other as quickly as possible.
After the formalities, the Queen moved quickly to Delia’s side, extending her hand.
“Del, let’s return now.”
“…What?”
Delia’s eyes grew wide.
Where? With whom?
Her blue eyes darted busily, trying to decipher the meaning behind her mother’s outstretched hand.
“Mother, is there some schedule I wasn’t told about?”
“No. The day’s duties are over. It’s time to return to your chambers.”
“Then… I’ll return to my room from today—”
“Del. For the time being, it would be best if you stayed with me. Just as you are now.”
Delia’s face twisted at the unexpected words.
There was no way sharing the same space with her mother, her freedom restrained, could be comfortable.
She had thought that since her mother had agreed to the marriage, she would finally be free.
“But… it will inconvenience you too, Mother.”
Murmuring awkwardly, Delia was met with her mother’s wistful tone.
“Inconvenience? No, I only regret that I have so little time left with my daughter. Once you’re married, such moments will be rare.”
The candlelight flickered strangely in the Queen’s eyes.
“And besides, the Imperial Army will need time to adjust to Iorenti. So—”
She curled her lips into an elegant smile, staring straight at Aaron as though speaking to him, though her words were addressed to Delia.
“For now, stay with your mother.”
A sigh of disappointment escaped Delia’s lips.
“Yes, Mother. I will.”
Resigned, Delia turned toward Aaron.
With graceful poise, she lifted her skirts, bent her knees slightly, and offered him a curtsey.
“Commander, I shall retire for now. What we couldn’t finish discussing today, we’ll do another time.”
Aaron’s expression twisted just as hers had.
Next, next—when?
Frustrated, Aaron clenched his fists tightly.
“Until next time, then.”
And once again, he was left alone.
The corridor, lit only by candlelight, filled with a chilling air around him.
As he watched the two figures retreating, Aaron could no longer hold back the growl of frustration slipping past his lips.
“Damn it.”
Even as she allowed him near, the Queen still protected her daughter.
A mother deer’s instinct to shield her fawn—it far exceeded anything Aaron had imagined.
As always, bright sunlight streamed in through the windows.
A breeze swept elegantly through the open meeting room.
Amid the gentle wind, a heavy sigh spilled from Delia’s lips.
“Huuh…”
The ministers in the chamber exchanged glances.
Who would dare ask after the princess’s mood?
In the end, pushed forward by the others’ stares, the Minister of Finance spoke.
“Your Highness, are you well?”
Delia pulled her gaze from the window and looked at him.
She shook her head lightly, apologetic.
“I was thinking of something else. Forgive me.”
She accepted the documents he offered.
“And what are these?”
“A compensation plan for the families of the fallen.”
“Why bring them to me instead of His Majesty the King?”
“His Majesty ordered that all matters be approved by Your Highness first.”
“…His Majesty?”
Delia repeated softly, turning over the reality she now faced.
Since her engagement had been approved, her mother’s protective barrier had noticeably lowered.
Though she still had to share her mother’s chambers at night, during the day she was left relatively free.
Yet even so, meeting Aaron seemed impossible.
As her mother stepped back, her father had begun to guide her instead.
“You cannot leave the Crown Prince’s seat vacant for long. For now, you will take over Alfredo’s duties.”
Thus, she was saddled with the Crown Prince’s responsibilities—perhaps even more than that.
She understood what her father’s command meant, but she had no choice but to accept.
Iorenti was still unstable; she couldn’t just wait idly for Alfredo to return.
But was this truly alright?
“Will proceeding this way be fine?”
At the minister’s question, Delia refocused.
She skimmed the documents regarding compensation for the fallen.
“Move the schedule up. Matters concerning the fallen must take priority. Delays will make their families feel neglected.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Laying the papers down, Delia continued.
“According to the peace treaty, we are to send a delegation as part of cultural exchange with the Empire. Has the schedule and delegation list been finalized?”
The Foreign Minister bowed.
“Not yet. Plans must follow after the wedding date is firmly set.”
“I see. Sir Giuliano would be ideal to lead the delegation. He is serious and knows how to maintain neutrality. Confirm his willingness and secure his agreement.”
Gazing briefly out the window, Delia added:
“And when assembling the delegation, ensure that royal artists are included.”
In technology and science, the Empire undoubtedly held superiority—their firearms and machinery left mouths agape.
But in humanities and the arts, Iorenti was not inferior.
The continent’s oldest and most prestigious university, Belloni Royal Academy, was in Iorenti, and promising painters flocked there to study.
Even the Empire had requested that artists be included in the delegation.
Iorenti’s reputation in arts and culture was common knowledge across the continent.
“Royal artists, Your Highness?”
“Yes. To showcase Iorenti’s cultural level and satisfy the Empire’s request, we must send our best. That means the royal artists are most fitting.”
And besides—if she sent away the court’s chief painter, Perugino, she wouldn’t have to sit for portraits for a while.
Satisfied with her perfect plan, Delia smiled brightly.
The ministers, however, pressed their lips shut at her smile.
Sensing the awkward silence, Delia quickly erased her smile and moved on.
“Minister of War.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Some time ago, I instructed research into new weapons. What progress has been made?”
“Well, Your Highness, the thing is…”
“Answer me.”
Pressed by her cold tone, the minister wiped his forehead nervously.
“Well… the war caused many engineers to return home, and research was halted.”
“And?”
“Pardon? That is…”
He faltered, clearly having done nothing since.
Delia’s face hardened, her grip tightening on the chair’s armrest.
“Restart the research immediately.”
“But, Your Highness, we’ve signed a peace treaty with the Empire—”
“Was the Empire the only enemy we ever had?”
Her icy rebuke silenced him.
“Fever eyes us like a wolf. Boswell once betrayed us and stabbed us in the back. Even Ionic watches us. Enemies surround us. And you abandon weapons research just because of one peace treaty?”
Shoving her chair back, Delia rose.
She stood tall, sweeping her gaze over the ministers seated below her.
“Resume research at once.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Though I have only taken on these duties temporarily due to my brother’s absence, I will not handle them carelessly. Before reporting to His Majesty, revise today’s matters thoroughly and bring them back to me.”
Since childhood, the King had emphasized royal duties, taking her along to meetings.
Thanks to that, it hadn’t taken Delia long to grasp governance.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
At her stern command, the ministers couldn’t help but recall Crown Prince Alfredo.
The quiet prince who had always nodded silently.
Working under him had been far easier—everything passed without question.
But with the princess, it was different.
She voiced opinions actively, keeping the ministers tense. It was like looking at the late King Leopoldo III reborn.
Though it meant more work, they felt a strange sense of stability.
Like a drifting ship finally dropping anchor.
“That will be all for today.”
At her words, the ministers rose and bowed deeply.
“Then we shall take our leave, Your Highness.”
Thud.
As the ministers gathered their papers and departed, the door closed.
Only the Princess of Iorenti remained, gazing out the window.
“Huuuh…”
A faint sigh slipped from her red lips.
Now alone, the worries she had forced down came flooding back.
She had thought that receiving permission for her marriage would resolve everything.
But her mind was only more tangled.
No word still from Alfredo. Unfinished words with Aaron.
Everything was a confusing mess swirling inside her—while outside, the scenery remained peaceful.
Lost in thought for a long time, Delia finally bit her lip firmly.
As though having reached a decision, she gripped her skirt tightly and strode out of the chamber.
“I must meet him.”
