Chapter 148: The Ousted Prince
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 148: The Ousted Prince
Whitley placed the chilled lemonade and refreshments on the table, gave a polite bow, and slipped out of the room.
The chamber, which Benet and ten maids had scrambled to clean and organize just moments ago, looked as pristine as if it had been prepared days in advance.
Seated in the parlor, Lucion brushed back his brilliant blonde hair, a satisfied expression crossing his face.
“The room is quite lovely.”
His gaze swept from the lace curtains adorned with delicate embroidery to the canapé with its sophisticated molding before settling back on me.
“I’m glad it’s to your liking.”
“Everything, from start to finish, is exactly to my taste. I’d love to take it all back to Rondoris with me.”
Lucion flashed a dazzling smile.
Beside me, Loik’s hand twitched as if he were suppressing an impulse.
“No wonder Count Pacio praised it so highly. It would have been a shame to miss this.”
While Lucion continued with a few more compliments, I stole a glance at Loik.
He had been acting strange for a while now.
The sun was strong outside, but the interior was quite cool thanks to a pleasant breeze... yet Loik was breathing heavily, as if he were enduring the sweltering heat in the middle of a desert.
As if his throat were parched, he downed his lemonade in a single, aggressive gulp.
When I asked him quietly if he was alright, Loik forced a stiff smile.
“I’m fine. It’s just a bit warm.”
He wiped the back of his neck. His tone was steady, but his expression suggested he wanted to dive into a vat of ice water that very second.
Knowing that letting Loik lead the conversation would only result in a spat, I spoke to Lucion first.
“You mentioned being ‘ousted’ earlier... what did you mean by that?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. I arrived at the port in Rondoris, only to be denied entry,” Lucion said smoothly after taking a sip of his lemonade. “It seems my sister is quite cross with me.”
“Princess Pelianes? Whatever for?”
Lucion stroked his chin as if it were difficult to pick just one reason.
“If I had to name the deciding factor... it would likely be the Finale.”
According to his explanation, Princess Pelianes had desperately wanted the Finale. She had sent Vice Minister Delon as her proxy and instructed Lucion to provide the funding.
However, Lucion, who couldn't be bothered to attend the auction himself, had simply set a budget limit and stayed out of it. Without the authority to make independent decisions, Delon had failed to win the bid when the price soared higher than expected.
“And the reason the price soared is sitting right in front of me.”
He cast a mischievous look at the ruby necklace gracing my neck.
“What can I say? It’s unfortunate, but it’s hardly my fault the Prince chose not to attend the auction.”
Loik, sitting beside me, nodded vigorously as if he thoroughly enjoyed that answer.
“Well, I’m not particularly regretful myself,” Lucion said, his cat-like eyes shimmering languidly. “Regardless of the circumstances, it clearly suits our Grand Duchess much better than it would my sister.”
“Our?”
Loik’s voice came out as a low, harsh rasp. “I believe I told you not to try any nonsense in front of the Grand Duchess.”
Before any harsher words could spill from his mouth, I placed my hand over his large, clenched fist. The tension in his hand slowly ebbed away.
“But did she truly ban your entry for just that reason?”
“To be honest, she was already quite angry before that,” Lucion said, staring intently at the spot where my hand touched Loik’s. “She heard I was producing an opera in Blenheim.”
“It seems I’ve fallen quite out of favor. I doubt I’ll be able to return for some time...” Lucion looked up again, meeting my eyes. A playful, cheerful glint danced on his face. “Surely the Grand Duchess won’t be heartless enough to kick me out, too?”
“...Of course not.”
Finding myself momentarily speechless, I simply offered a faint smile.
*
Cecilia sat dazed in the Grand Duchess’s parlor.
Today wasn't her scheduled day to be at the castle. While most ladies-in-waiting were said to be inseparable from their mistresses, Cecilia spent a day or two a week at her father’s viscountcy working on her columns. The Grand Duchess had been considerate of her busy schedule with Cecil’s Recipe.
‘Actually, Her Highness said coming in three days a week would be plenty...’
But that had actually made Cecilia feel a bit dejected. After all, the most interesting things in the North always happened right next to the Grand Duchess.
She had finished her column early today and come to the castle, only to be disappointed when she heard Her Highness was at the Guest Castle.
‘I had something I wanted to consult her about.’
Normally, one of a lady-in-waiting’s roles was to be a confidante and offer advice, but in Cecilia’s case, it was always the Grand Duchess giving the advice.
Cecil’s Recipe was now firmly established. People from all over the North, neighboring territories, and even Rondoris had begun sending in their own recipes. The weekly themed booklets were selling like wildfire.
Yet, she felt a sense of emptiness. While organizing recipes sent by others was meaningful, Cecilia wanted to do something more proactive.
‘Should I try writing news articles again?’
Cecilia shook her head. She was now the Grand Duchess’s lady-in-waiting; even if she heard many things, she wasn't in a position to carelessly broadcast them. Besides, the thought of competing with countless weeklies for scoops felt exhausting.
‘I should at least figure out what I want to do before I pour my heart out to Her Highness.’
Cecilia headed toward the Grand Duchess’s desk to get some paper. The first drawer was usually locked, and the paper was kept in the second.
As Cecilia pulled the second drawer as she always did, she heard a clattering sound. It seemed to be caught on something. She pulled a few more times, but the drawer wouldn't budge.
Being somewhat impatient, Cecilia gave the handle a powerful yank.
Crack—!
With the sound of splintering wood, the first and second drawers burst out together. Cecilia tumbled back onto the floor with a groan.
It seemed the lattice partition holding the lock for the first drawer had weakened. A decorative paperweight in the second drawer must have caught on the upper section, tearing it all out when she pulled.
‘I’ve caused another accident.’
Feeling embarrassed, Cecilia started to get up when her eyes fell on a document that had been in the first drawer.
It was a simple contract.
As her eyes instinctively scanned the text, they went wide. Forgetting that she was overstepping her bounds, the lady-in-waiting hurriedly snatched up the paper.
[Loik Blenheim and Annette Frais agree to divorce one year from this date...]
The hand holding the contract began to tremble violently.
*
Perel rubbed his tired eyelids as he descended the stairs of the main castle.
‘I really thought I’d be able to leave work early today...’
The Grand Duke had been making ridiculous demands, like sending Prince Lucion to a hotel outside the castle, but as the man in charge of logistics, Perel couldn't possibly go along with that. Knowing that the Grand Duchess was putting a lot of effort into the Prince for the sake of the opera, Perel had only been able to breathe a sigh of relief after ensuring the Prince’s entire entourage was properly settled.
His office was piled high with other tasks he’d postponed to welcome the Prince.
‘Still, I need to eat if I’m going to survive the overtime.’
He was hurrying toward the dining hall when a familiar silhouette emerged from the shadows.
“...Lady Cecilia?”
“We need to talk.”
Her face looked grimmer than the day she had first called out to him in the past.
Perel was starving, having not eaten a proper meal all day. He swallowed hard and summoned his courage.
“If it isn't urgent...”
He was about to suggest he eat first.
“It’s urgent.”
With that, Cecilia turned on her heel and marched toward the garden. Perel had no choice but to follow, clutching his empty stomach.
‘This is really too much.’
If she had business, she should have made an appointment, or at the very least, asked if he was available. He was only human, and her overly familiar attitude was starting to grate on his nerves today. He didn't know what she wanted, but...
‘I’m going to say something before she starts talking.’
He wasn't going to let her brush it off this time by saying, "What's with the formality between us?"
Perel stopped in a corner of the garden behind Cecilia, bracing himself. But when Cecilia turned around, her face was set in a much harder expression than he had anticipated.
‘It’s a bit scary, but I have to speak my mind.’
Perel took a serious tone and called her name.
Cecilia’s lips trembled. She was biting them so hard that the skin beneath was indented.
“...Lady Cecilia?”
Startled, Perel stepped closer, and at that moment, a large teardrop fell from her eye.
“Are you... are you crying?”
“Ugh...”
That seemed to be the breaking point. Tears began to stream down her face.
“Waaaaah!”
Cecilia began to sob uncontrollably, her face a mask of pure sorrow.
“D-don’t cry! I wasn't going to get angry! I just...!”
As Perel panicked and stammered, Cecilia shouted through her sobs.
“What are we going to do!” she wailed. “Her Highness is getting a divorce!”