Mediation

"I would like to ask you to mediate."

Crown Princess Beatrice quietly lifted the teacup in front of her. Over the pink tea filled with ice, she saw the face of a man smiling awkwardly. It was her husband, Crown Prince Frederic.

About ten days had passed since the diplomatic banquet with Glintland had been suspended in that manner. The royal court was gradually growing uneasy—or rather, everyone except the King.

So, did the Grand Duchess really sell off the vase she received as a gift? No, they say she didn't. Then did the Duchess of Glintland send a fake and kill the maid? They say that's not it either. Then what on earth is the truth? The maid is definitely dead, though.

Countless rumors from the diplomatic banquet circulated, but neither the royal court nor the Duchess of Glintland had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠officially confirmed any of them. The Duchess of Glintland still maintained her innocence regarding the maid's murder, claiming she had been framed. She also held fast to her assertion that the vase had been swapped.

The Grand Duke's side did not remain silent either. Grand Duke Berk released a statement in the newspapers ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through his representative.

He did not openly point fingers at anyone to assign blame. Nevertheless, it was a sophisticated, roundabout way of declaring that he would not stand by and watch his Grand Duchess be insulted.

"The problem is that Father openly sided with the Duchess of Glintland at the banquet. Aunt was no exception, either."

The King and the Marquise of Flandre had sided with Glintland instead of their own country's Grand Duchess. If this dragged on, it was only a matter of time before people started whispering that the King had orchestrated this nonsense because he couldn't stand the sight of Curtis and Grand Duchess Berk. In fact, quite a few nobles were already murmuring exactly that.

"But even so, we can't let the Grand Duchess be branded as the one who sold off the vase."

Crown Prince Frederic had already subtly asked Grand Duke Berk if he could accommodate such a narrative. His beautiful uncle had sent back the following reply.

It was his way of saying, Are you out of your mind?

Hearing this response—which was dripping with a refined pretense of courtesy while overtly expressing his displeasure—Crown Princess Beatrice furrowed her brow. Even without her saying a word, Frederic, who knew exactly what she wanted to say, let out a low chuckle.

"Indeed. It's quite unexpected, isn't it? My uncle is someone who is always consistently careful with his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠words, at least in official royal documents."

It was true. Even if Curtis spoke harshly in private, he was always meticulous with his language in official royal correspondence. No matter how much Frederic was on his side, one could never be too careful in politics. The fact that he had sent such a reply was highly astonishing. If that letter were to fall into the King's hands, Curtis Shan Berk would have no defense if he were charged with insulting the Crown Prince. Which meant...

"He has no intention of backing down even an inch for the sake of that temporary Grand Duchess. Isn't it fascinating?"

"...You say temporary," Beatrice added softly.

Frederic nodded. "Right. He didn't utter a single word about her being temporary. But my uncle did mention 'the next one' before."

Which meant there was a next person. Of course, he had no way of knowing who that was, nor was he particularly curious. All Frederic could deduce from those words was that the current Grand Duchess was in a temporary position. However, he hadn't expected his uncle to shield and coddle a temporary partner to this extent. Granted, Curtis was never the type of person to casually throw people away after using them, but still.

It was then. Crown Princess Beatrice set her teacup down with a soft clink. Snapping out of his thoughts at the sound, Frederic offered an apologetic smile.

"My apologies. I was lost in thought for a moment."

"It is quite alright. I know you are busy with many affairs."

"At any rate, because of that, it has become difficult for the royal court to simply push its way through."

It was all because the jeweler and Agathe Montpis had blabbered their testimonies at the banquet that day. In truth, even if the royal family tried to force the issue unilaterally, Grand Duke Berk would never sit idly by. Of course, Frederic had no intention of doing so either. He had merely been testing the waters to see if the Grand Duchess could take the fall. How annoying it was to sometimes have to play the bastard despite knowing all the circumstances. Or, perhaps, to play the role of an impartial clown. Well, that was the royal family's job anyway.

Frederic rested his chin on his hand and looked at Crown Princess Beatrice with a gentle gaze.

"I feel terribly ashamed for always making you handle these sorts of matters."

"It is the duty of the royal family. I am perfectly fine."

She was truly the perfect crown princess. Though she was said to be timid and averse to displeasing the King, when one thought about it, there was no need to deliberately face a storm head-on. In that sense, Frederic liked Beatrice. She was like a reed—letting the wind pass through her, yet never breaking.

"What do you plan to do with the Duchess of Glintland?"

"Hmm, actually, using her as a disposable pawn would be the most perfect solution. But strangely enough, Father seems to want to keep the Duchess of Glintland alive."

Although she was called a duchess and a princess of Glintland, she was merely an adopted, collateral royal. Furthermore, he had heard she was a woman hastily brought in just for these marriage negotiations. If so, Frederic believed the best course of action was to make Glintland abandon her, while throwing them some kind of benefit in return. Wouldn't it be fine to keep her as a hostage? Yet, the King had said those very words to Frederic regarding her. It was utterly absurd and laughable. A hostage out of an adopted, collateral princess? What would you even use her for? Isn't that just adding another useless mouth to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feed in the royal castle of Ivanes? Of course, he couldn't ask his father that directly.

"He said he occasionally shared light conversation with Isabelle la Glintland. I wonder if he suddenly found himself in need of a conversational partner."

"Your Highness."

The Crown Princess, who had been lightly furrowing her brow, called out to the pondering Frederic. Frederic's eyes widened. It was rare for the Crown Princess to look him straight in the eye like this.

"Since it has not been long since our marriage, I do not know the late Queen du Solier well. However, I have heard that she was so gentle and upright that she earned the respect of many."

"You always have a habit of speaking in circles. And?"

"...Your Highness certainly takes after Queen du Solier."

Frederic squinted his eyes as he laughed. "And your words are undoubtedly an insult to my father."

Beatrice did not even deny it as she continued. "Please recall the sordidness that beautiful hostages from weak nations must endure."

"Ah."

Prince Frederic, who took after Queen du Solier, knew his father's vileness all too well. Thus, with just the slightest hint she offered, he instantly grasped his father's filthy intentions.

"It seems my father deserves even more criticism than I thought."

"I am humbled."

"Thank you for pointing out what I failed to consider. How can he still be like that at his age?" Frederic scratched his chin. His father had not just one mistress, but several. And now Isabelle la Glintland as well? It was absurd. Yet, it wasn't particularly surprising. Thus, he turned his attention elsewhere.

"Also, while it might be difficult to become close friends with the Grand Duchess, I would like you to pay some special attention to her this time."

"This time" referred to every single moment of all the tasks the Crown Princess would have to perform for the sake of mediation. Beatrice lightly supported her teacup with her pinky finger, silently placing it down on the saucer as she asked,

"It seems you have taken a liking to the Grand Duchess."

"She is an entertaining person," Frederic replied with rare candor. As he spoke of Chloe Le David Berk, his eyes crinkled softly with amusement.

"If not for His Majesty, you might have gained an entertaining friend as well. It is truly a pity."

"Is that all?"

Is she merely entertaining? Surely not. If so, is there any other reason you are paying this much attention to her? was the unspoken question. Frederic hummed, furrowing his brow.

"Well, there are indeed many aspects about her that catch my attention in various ways."

"..."

"In that sense, I have one more favor to ask."

"What is it?"

"Among the maids from your natal household, are there any who could go to the Grand Ducal residence to help out?"

Beatrice lifted her gaze from her teacup to look at Frederic. It was a silent inquiry demanding the reason. Frederic smiled sheepishly.

"It seems the Grand Duchess is trying to purge her household staff this time, but she is having a rather difficult time of it in many ways."