Chapter 8: The Crown Prince’s Visits
Three months have passed since His Highness came to visit me that day.
True to his declaration, he now appears every three or four days on his way back from the academy.
It seems he is making time despite his busy schedule, and sometimes Cyril comes to fetch him with an apologetic look, and they leave in a hurry.
And today as well, His Highness sits before me with a gentle expression.
The way he elegantly lifts his cup and drinks his tea radiates refinement from his very posture.
“So, how are you feeling?”
“Yes, I have been able to stay upright for longer periods recently.
However, my strength has completely diminished, and I can only remain seated for about two hours at most.”
“I see.
And your appetite?”
“I eat less than before.
Perhaps because I lack exercise, rich foods feel too heavy.”
“Understood.
I will see what can be done about that.”
“Eh?”
What does he mean by seeing what can be done about my meals?
I wondered, but decided to let it go.
There are many aspects of His Highness’s thinking that I simply cannot understand.
Indeed, in my previous life, I never spoke with him this much.
And it is also true that the perfect prince image he always maintained is gradually beginning to crumble.
“By the way, Your Highness, how was the recent evening party?
Were there many charming debutantes?”
“Yes, the usual.
You would have debuted this year as well.”
“Yes, but in this state I cannot participate in society, which is unfortunate.”
“You do not seem particularly unfortunate.
I am the one who regrets not being able to escort you in your white debutante dress.”
“Oh my, surely you found some lovely flower instead?”
“No.
There is no woman more captivating to me than you.”
What is this prince who flirts so naturally?
I have never heard such tooth-achingly sweet words from him before.
He used to smile politely and praise only dresses or hair ornaments, skillfully avoiding complimenting the person herself.
And how pitiful my past self was for squealing over such shallow praise.
I have gently tried to suggest that our engagement should be dissolved due to my frailty, but he refuses to entertain it at all.
Surely this prince understands what I am implying.
Perhaps I should state it clearly once more.
“Your Highness, regarding our engagement—”
“Ah, what a pity.
Is it nearly time already?
I would not wish to burden you, Rashel.”
He removed a chained watch from his breast pocket and glanced at it, letting out an exaggerated sigh.
Not this again.
Whenever I attempt to speak of dissolving the engagement, he pretends not to hear me.
Perhaps the girl has not yet become the Saintess in this timeline, and since she is a year below him, they have not yet met at the academy.
If that is the case, perhaps he finds it troublesome to dissolve the engagement now and be pursued by other women.
Yes, that must be it.
Satisfied with my conclusion, I nod to myself.
In that case, will things remain as they are until next year, when the new students’ Spirit Summoning Ceremony takes place?
That would be troublesome in its own way.
I must have unintentionally twisted my expression in displeasure.
His Highness had been watching my shifting expressions with amusement, though I did not notice.
“Oh, by the way, since you cannot attend the academy for now, what of your studies?”
“For the time being, once my condition stabilizes enough for me to sit longer, we plan to hire a private tutor.”
“I see.
Then I shall arrange that.”
“That is too much.
I cannot trouble you with everything.”
“You are my important fiancée, after all.”
With that meltingly sweet smile, my face turned bright red before I could stop it.
I am utterly unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a way.
With my sharp personality and equally sharp features, men had never approached me in the past.
Being courted was out of the question.
“Hmm?
Your face is red, Rashel.
Do you have a fever?”
“No!
My condition has not changed, so please do not worry!”
“I worry.
You are someone whose fevers take a long time to subside once they rise.”
You know perfectly well why my face is red.
Though he hides it, there is teasing laughter in his voice.
As my frown deepens further, he narrows his eyes and begins to laugh aloud.
“That is the first time I have seen such an expression,” I must have muttered aloud.
“Ah,” he says in understanding.
“Conversations with you are interesting, Rashel.
And you are someone who knows how to forgive, so perhaps I indulge myself a little.
There are few people with whom I can speak so freely, without calculating gain and loss.”
“Gain and loss?
You always think that way?”
“Well, one never knows where one’s words may be twisted.
The scars of the last war are still scattered throughout this nation.”
“Yes, but that was fifty years ago, was it not?”
“Yes.
After fifty years, we have finally become a nation capable of standing against others, and we have grown prosperous.
But in truth?”
“You mean… the Salim District?”
His expression turns serious, and his silence serves as affirmation.
The Salim District is a taboo subject in this country.
It is the shadow beneath our apparent prosperity, the so-called slums.
Even commoners avert their eyes from it, not only nobles.
After the devastating war, everyone was desperate for reconstruction.
Yet the Salim District became the place where those with nowhere to go, whose futures had been stolen, were confined.
“I was ten.
None of my tutors could give me answers that satisfied me, so I decided to see it with my own eyes.
I slipped away from my guards and went there with Cyril.”
“Your Highness did what?!
How reckless!”
“Yes, even I admit it was the recklessness of youth.”
“Then why?”
It is unimaginable for a prince of a nation to step into such a dangerous place.
Especially someone like His Highness, who possesses such strong awareness and pride as royalty.
If anything had happened, what would have become of this country?
As I ask, a shiver runs down my spine.
As if aware of my thoughts, His Highness gives a self-mocking smile.
“I wanted to know.
No one would tell me.
Everyone tried to pretend it did not exist—this darkness of our nation.
And I am the one who must know it better than anyone.”
As he says this, looking straight into my eyes, his face bears neither the perfect prince’s smile nor the earlier playful grin, nor even the expression of a seventeen-year-old boy.
Before me stood a man who gazed directly at the future of this nation, revealing a glimpse of the dignity of a king.