Chapter 47: Past — After She Was Gone ⑥

A Blessed and Sacred Garden of Happiness

In a dim room where even sunlight could not enter because the curtains were drawn, a stark space furnished with only a table, a sofa, and a bed, two figures were present.
One sat on the bed, while the other knelt at her feet.
He took a white, smooth hand like a porcelain fish and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“Hey… are you happy?”

Even in the darkness, the golden threads inherited from the queen did not lose their luster.
He—Neige—looked up at eyes of pale yellow that shone like gemstones yet held no emotion.
She—Faustina—gave no reply to Neige’s voice.
She merely lowered the corners of her eyes and wore a gentle smile.

“I’m happy.
Because I can immerse myself like this in a world with just the two of us.”

Even upon hearing Neige’s voice brimming with happiness, even upon seeing his face, she did not move in the slightest.
He pressed his lips once more to the cold back of her hand.
Only chill was conveyed through the touch of his lips.
As if that coldness itself were dear to him, he rested her hand against his forehead.

“I want to show them soon…
I want to flaunt the sight of you and me loving each other.
If I do, my brother will surely give up from the bottom of his heart.
On you.”

So come quickly—

Bernhard, forbidden by Sirius from secretly searching for Faustina, maintained a calm exterior while his inner state was in utter turmoil.
Even as crown prince, the one at the summit was his father, the king.
If the king had decided, then he had to obey.
Whether she was unaware of her husband’s change or whether his acting was simply that good, Elvira strolled leisurely through the garden without performing any of the crown princess’s duties.
She was made to do the bare minimum, but only with everything prepared for her.
Aelia, who handled all of that preparation and her other work alone, was surely on the verge of erupting.
For that reason, those around them were careful to ensure that Elvira and Aelia did not run into each other by misfortune.
There had been one occasion when they did meet, and Aelia had showered Elvira with words even more cutting than those she once used against Faustina, reducing her to tears, so everyone was cautious.

“Aelia said you weren’t even worth killing time with, you know.
She looked bored.
She said that unlike you, Elvira isn’t an opponent worth competing with.”

If the target were Faustina, the retaliation would be returned severalfold.
But Elvira only shed frustrated tears and clung to those around her.
There was no sign of her thinking for herself, acting, or considering how to deal with things.

Though the same ducal blood flowed through them, why were they so different?
Neige, who already held the answer, continued speaking to Faustina, who showed no reaction to anything he said.

“Oh, right… I just thought of something good.
A way to let my brother see you sooner.
Hehe… he’ll surely be delighted.
I’ll let him meet you, whom he can’t give up on even though Father forbade it.”

Still kneeling, he stopped kissing her hand, shifted back, and grasped her ankle.
He pressed a similar kiss to the top of her foot.
No matter where he touched, it was cold.
He gently traced skin that held no warmth.

Neige, immersed in happiness, and Faustina, who did nothing but wear a pasted-on smile.

This place where only Neige spoke was his alone—a blessed and sacred paradise of happiness.

—Even if it belonged to him alone…