Chapter 148 – The Banished Prince
Whitley set down the cold lemonade and snacks on the table, bowed politely, and left the room.
A few minutes earlier, Bennet had rushed in with ten maids to clean and tidy the room, making it look as neat as if it had been prepared in advance.
Prince Lucion, sitting in the reception room, brushed back his shining blond hair and smiled in satisfaction.
“This room is truly beautiful.”
His gaze swept from the lace curtains embroidered with delicate patterns to the canapés decorated with elegant molding, then returned to me.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“It suits my taste perfectly from top to bottom. I want to take everything here back to Rondoris.”
Lucion smiled brightly at me.
Sitting beside me, Loic twitched his hand in irritation.
“No wonder Count Pacio praised this place so much. It would have been a shame if I never visited.”
As Lucion continued to give a few flowery compliments, I sneaked a glance toward Loic.
His condition was strange.
The sun outside was strong, but inside the room, the wind circulated well and it was pleasantly cool.
Yet Loic was breathing heavily, like someone enduring scorching heat in the middle of a desert.
He grabbed the lemonade and drank it in one huge gulp, as if his throat were burning.
“Are you okay?”
When I quietly asked, Loic forced a stiff smile.
“I am fine. Just… a little warm.”
He ran a hand down the back of his neck.
His tone was calm, but his face looked like he desperately wanted to dive into a bucket of ice water.
If I let Loic lead the conversation, he and Lucion would start arguing again, so I quickly spoke to Lucion instead.
“That comment earlier—being ‘kicked out’… what did you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said. When I arrived at the harbor of Rondoris, they refused to let me in.”
Lucion lazily sipped his lemonade as he spoke.
“It seems my sister is very, very angry with me.”
“Princess Pellianess? Why?”
Lucion rubbed his chin, as if the list of reasons was too long.
“If I had to choose the biggest cause… probably the finale.”
From his explanation—
Princess Pellianess wanted the finale piece.
She sent Delon, the vice-councilor, as her representative.
Lucion was supposed to fund the bidding.
But Lucion didn’t want to attend the auction himself and only gave Delon a rough budget limit.
Delon had no decision-making power, and when the price shot up higher than expected, he couldn’t keep up.
So Princess Pellianess lost the finale.
“And the reason the bidding price skyrocketed is sitting right in front of me.”
He looked meaningfully at the ruby necklace around my neck.
“Well, what can you do? It wasn’t my fault the prince didn’t attend the auction.”
Loic, sitting at my side, nodded so vigorously he looked like he might sprain his neck.
“Well, I’m not particularly upset.”
Lucion’s eyes curved like a lazy cat.
“Whatever the case, the finale suits our Lady Consort far better than my sister.”
“Our?”
Loic’s voice turned low and sharp, like claws scraping stone.
“I told you not to flirt with the Grand Duchess.”
“Loic.”
Before he could say something worse, I gently placed my hand over his clenched fist.
His fist relaxed immediately.
“But you were really denied entry because of that?”
“To be honest, she was already angry before that happened.”
Still staring at the spot where my hand had touched Loic, Lucion continued.
“She heard I was helping create an opera in Blenheim.”
“Oh.”
“It seems I’ve really gotten on her nerves. I won’t be able to go back anytime soon…”
He lifted his head and met my eyes directly.
His smiling face looked delighted somehow.
“Surely, Lady Consort won’t be cold-hearted and throw me out as well?”
“…Of course not.”
Suddenly at a loss for words, I just smiled back at him.
***
Meanwhile
Cecilia sat blankly in the Grand Duchess’s reception room.
Today wasn’t supposed to be an “entering the castle” day.
Normal maids stayed with their mistresses all day, but Cecilia spent one or two days a week at her family’s house doing column work.
The Grand Duchess had allowed that because Cecilia was busy with Cecil’s Recipes.
‘Lady Consort actually said she only needed me to come three days a week…’
But that only made Cecilia feel lonely.
All the most interesting things in the north happened around the Grand Duchess.
She had finished her column early today and hurried to the castle, only to be told the Lady Consort was at the Guest Castle instead.
‘I had something I wanted to talk about…’
Maids were supposed to advise their lady, but in Cecilia’s case, it was always the Grand Duchess advising her.
Cecil’s Recipes had taken off explosively.
People from the north, nearby territories, and even Rondoris were sending in their own recipes.
The weekly booklets sold out every week.
But Cecilia still felt something missing.
Sorting the recipes people sent was meaningful… but she wanted to do something more active.
‘Should I start writing articles again?’
She quickly shook her head.
She was now the Grand Duchess’s maid.
She heard too much to freely publish anything.
And competing with hundreds of weekly papers for topics exhausted her just thinking about it.
‘I should figure out what I want first… before talking to Lady Consort.’
Cecilia went to the desk to get some paper.
The top drawer was always locked; the paper was kept in the second drawer.
As usual, she pulled the second drawer—
Clunk.
Something caught.
‘Huh?’
She pulled again.
And again.
But the drawer wouldn’t open properly.
Growing impatient, Cecilia yanked hard.
Crack!
With a snapping noise, both the first and second drawers popped out at once.
“Ow!”
Cecilia ended up sprawled on the floor.
It seemed the lock frame for the top drawer had rotted, and when she pulled the bottom drawer, the decorative paperweight inside had snagged on the upper drawer, making both break out.
‘Ugh… I did it again.’
Embarrassed, Cecilia got up—
Then she froze.
Inside the first drawer was a stack of documents.
One was a contract written in simple form.
She picked it up without thinking—
Then her eyes widened.
「Loic Blenheim and Annette Freis agree to divorce in one year…」
Her hands trembled harder and harder as she read.
***
Meanwhile
Perel rubbed his tired eyes as he descended the steps of the main castle.
‘I was sure I’d get off work early today…’
The Grand Duke had insisted on sending Prince Lucion to a hotel outside the castle, but as the actual person in charge, Perel couldn’t agree to that.
Especially because he knew the Lady Consort needed the prince for the opera project.
Perel had to make sure Lucion and all his attendants were treated properly.
But now his office was buried under the work he had postponed.
‘Still, I should eat before I start working overtime.’
He hurried toward the dining hall—
“Sir Perel.”
A familiar silhouette appeared from the shadows.
“…Lady Cecilia?”
“Let’s talk. Right now.”
She looked even colder than the last time she’d called him out.
Perel hadn’t eaten anything all day, so he was starving.
He swallowed hard and gathered courage.
“If it’s not urgent, perhaps I could first—”
“I said it’s urgent.”
With that, Cecilia spun around and marched toward the garden.
Perel reluctantly followed, clutching his empty stomach.
‘This is too much.’
If someone has business with you, they should make an appointment… or at least ask if you’re free.
He was human too—her extremely casual attitude irritated him today.
Whatever she wanted, he was determined:
‘Before she starts talking, I’ll say something first.’
This time, she wouldn’t dismiss him with “We’re close enough, aren’t we?”
When they reached a quiet corner of the garden, Perel steeled himself.
But when Cecilia turned around—
Her face was stiff.
Much more than he expected.
“…”
She looked frightening, but he still had to speak.
“Lady Cecilia.”
He called her name seriously.
But her lips trembled.
Hard.
So hard the area below her tightly pressed lips sank inward.
“…Lady Cecilia?”
Perel stepped closer in concern—
And tears suddenly rolled down her cheeks.
“Are you… crying?”
“Hh….”
The moment he asked, she burst into tears completely.
“HUEEEEENG…!”
Cecilia cried loudly, like the entire world had wronged her.
“P-Please don’t cry! I wasn’t going to scold you! I was only—!”
Perel panicked, stumbling over his words.
Then Cecilia shouted, her cry mixed with frustration:
“What do we do?!”
“Lady Consort is getting a divorce!”
