Chapter 42: After She Was Gone — ④

The corner of the royal castle where there was barely any foot traffic.
Standing there absentmindedly staring at the thick trunk of a tree large enough to hide a single child was Crown Prince Bernhard.
He was not waiting to meet anyone, nor was there anyone behind him.
He was simply standing there.

This was the place where, when they were young, his former fiancée Faustina was often led by the hand by his younger brother Neige and hidden away.
At those times, Faustina was always crying.
Her pale yellow eyes would be wet with tears, and with just one blink, droplets would fall.

He had never tried to understand why she was crying—until a certain event became the catalyst.

…

Half a year ago, he had held his wedding.
With Elvira, Faustina’s younger sister.

Over a year earlier, Faustina had attempted to murder her own sister.
Before the plan could ever be carried out, Bernhard realized it early, and Elvira was never harmed.
By law, Faustina should have been punished accordingly.
However, due to Queen Sierra’s desperate pleas and the mercy of Faustina’s father, Duke Citrine of the Wittgenstein house, she was merely disowned by her family.

That was the version of events accepted by society.

…

Bernhard bit down on his lip in irritation.

Mercy, my ass.

Faustina had been raised her entire life as a duke’s daughter.
There was no way she could survive after being cast down alone into the life of a commoner.
In a sense, it was no different from a death sentence.

It would have been better if she had been kept in prison until her punishment was decided.

If that had happened—

…

Bernhard shook his head violently, scattering the words forming in his thoughts.
Yet the moment he stood still again, those words tried to dominate his mind, filling in the blanks like missing puzzle pieces.

No one knew where Faustina was now, or what she was doing—before even that, no one knew where she was at all.
Her place of exile had been decided by the ducal house, so Bernhard did not know it.
Even if he tried to find out, nearly all of the arrangements had been handled by Cain—Elvira and Faustina’s brother.
Cain had since inherited the title from Citrine and become the new duke, and Bernhard had heard he now devoted himself daily to his work.
He was also said to be deeply involved in supporting an orphanage, something he had begun while helping with Citrine’s duties.

When was the last time Bernhard had met Cain.
—Half a year ago, at the wedding of the Crown Prince and Crown Princess.
They had not met since.

Elvira had sent letters several times, but only received formal replies, which left her dejected.

Bernhard had no words to comfort her.
Within Cain’s heart, Elvira was probably no longer his sister.
Rather, on the day of the wedding, Cain had said this to him from the corner of the venue.

“Your Highness.
Please take good care of Elvira.
She is no longer a young lady of the Wittgenstein house, but the Crown Princess.
As her husband, please tell her not to rely on others as she did before.”

“Cain… why is your attitude toward Elvira so different from your attitude toward Faustina.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.
You understand what I mean, don’t you.”

…

“And one more thing.
Never mention Fana’s name again.
You chose Elvira.
Do not ever forget that.”

“You chose Elvira.”

…

Because no one else was there, Bernhard allowed himself a laugh that would have left anyone who heard it speechless.

“Chose, huh…”

Bernhard looked up at the sky.
The vast sky, the same color as Faustina’s hair, was completely cloudless.

In order to learn where Faustina had been taken, he had ordered her carriage to be followed as it left the ducal estate.
He entrusted the task to a knight skilled in investigations.
However, the knight returned with a report stating that Faustina had vanished without a trace.
When Bernhard heard this in his office, he slammed his fist into the desk.
He had put too much force into it, and the skin on the second joint of his fingers—excluding his thumb—was slightly torn.

Even now, the search continued.
He had placed surveillance on those who were likely to know her whereabouts, but there had been no results.
And if anyone else tried to probe further, he would restrain them and prevent them from acting.

…Faustina…

Only Bernhard could understand this feeling.

Why was he, who had mocked Faustina as she desperately tried to be loved by a Crown Prince who only felt disgust toward her—
Why was he now trying so desperately to find her.

—If I were to be saved by Your Highness, I would rather die.

The voice she had once spoken clung stubbornly to his memory and refused to let go.

“Ah… that’s why I need to capture you…”

The beautiful, lustrous blue in his eyes disappeared.
In its place, his gaze filled with negative emotions, dark and dim, cold as if sealed in ice.