The Crown Prince's First Friend
Is he just dancing around the idea that I don't listen and get into trouble all the time?
The Grand Duke's tone rubbed me the wrong way, somehow.
Wait, no—has there ever actually been a time when I ignored his orders?
I dug through my memories of the past days, searching for any such instance.
Try as I might, nothing comes up...?
What had happened with the attendants today couldn't even qualify as a misdeed.
It was a formally approved errand, that's all.
I had followed the Grand Duke's orders to the letter—the ones about not letting myself be looked down upon.
So what exactly has his knickers in a twist?
While I was mulling it over, the Grand Duke stepped into the bath. His voice echoed softly from within.
"Anyhow, good work today. I'll have no further need of you, so get some rest, butler."
"...Yes, Your Highness."
Leaving those parting words behind, I slipped out of the Grand Duke's chambers and headed for my own.
The room I'd been assigned was directly adjacent to his, and it was hardly any less grand.
Well, a palace is a palace, after all.
The Grand Duke's residence had already been absurdly vast, and the imperial palace was even bigger—not smaller by a single inch.
So this is the power of an empire blessed by the World Tree.
The imperial palace of the Tenasis Empire looked like it couldn't hold a candle to the Cadea Empire's.
I stepped out onto the terrace. As the cold wind washed over me, my mind and heart gradually settled.
The council starts tomorrow, then...
A meeting with the ceasefire and alliance between the Cadea and Tenasis Empires on the agenda. They'd said no one knew how long it would take to reach a decision.
An alliance, of all things...
I may be the Grand Duke's butler now, but for all that, I'd spent five years crossing swords with him on the battlefield. It wasn't the sort of feeling that could be swept away with a simple ceasefire and alliance.
Still, once we're allied, he and I won't be enemies anymore.
No more needing to take his head, no more cursing him behind his back out of spite.
Should I call that a good thing, or a shame?
I would have liked to settle our rivalry at least once...
That part's a little disappointing.
There'd be another chance someday, surely. And if not—well, nothing to be done about it.
"Sigh..."
Leaning against the railing, I gazed up at the night sky. It was cloudless and crystalline, glittering with countless stars.
It looked like golden jewels scattered across black velvet.
Beneath that starlight, which seemed ready to come pouring down on me at any moment, I lost myself in thought for a long while.
And so my first night at the imperial palace came and went.
It was the second day since the Grand Duke entered the council.
The talks continued around the clock, and a conclusion was proving elusive.
Two days in, I'd grown close with the imperial palace's head chef, and thanks to that I got to sample every dish he was confident in.
Today, too, I made my way to the dining hall. Its doors stood open at all hours so that the nobles and attendants attending the council could eat whenever they pleased.
Thanks to that arrangement, I could sit in the seat closest to Rickson the head chef and have whatever I wanted served to me in record time.
Meanwhile, every attendant who entered the dining hall spotted me and seated themselves as far away as possible. Word of what happened in the drawing room on the first day must have spread, because not a single soul came to pick a fight or sling insults.
Ah, this is boring.
I'd wandered the palace enough to have its layout and geography memorized, and even the scent of the garden grass had grown tiresome.
At the Grand Duke's residence I was running around so frantically I never noticed the time pass.
This much leisure didn't suit me either.
"What's the matter, Miss Freya?"
Rickson, the palace's head chef, set a plate down in front of me.
"Worries go down better with food."
"Thank you, I'll dig in."
On the plate sat a single slice of peach pie. Between the crisply baked, golden lattice of the crust, plump peaches glistened, drenched in translucent sugar syrup—utterly appetizing.
I cut off the pointed tip neatly with my fork and lifted it.
That was when it happened.
"What are you up to, all alone, Butler?"
"Hmm...?"
I raised my eyes to find the radiant Crown Prince seated across from me, staring right at me.
Holy—! You scared me!
I jerked back so fast my upper body nearly toppled off the chair.
"Y-Your Highness the Crown Prince?!"
So startled I forgot even to bow, I stared at him with an expression of pure disbelief—and the Crown Prince grinned and chuckled, as if my flustered face were all the more entertaining.
It was that same mask-like smile I'd seen at the banquet hall.
"Is that good? May I try a bite?"
"..."
It wasn't as though the fork had touched my mouth yet, so there was no harm in it, technically.
But me, butler of the Grand Duke's house, feeding a slice of pie to the Crown Prince's mouth. ...Is that really acceptable?
I set my fork down demurely and summoned a polite smile.
"I'm afraid that's impossible, Your Highness. I'll simply ask Rickson for a fresh slice instead."
I glanced toward the kitchen. As luck would have it, Rickson's eyes met mine. We exchanged a brief, wordless nod across the room.
"Haha."
The Crown Prince gave a short laugh at the sight of me.
Watching him, I picked my fork back up and, as if nothing had happened, brought a bite of pie to my mouth.
He shows up out of nowhere making absurd requests, and yet the only reason he's not off-putting is that face, isn't it.
The Crown Prince possessed a spectacularly gorgeous appearance. My own face was striking enough to draw eyes on its own, but together, the two of us generated an absolutely explosive effect.
Palace servants and attendants from other houses passing nearby kept stealing glances at our table.
I finally shed one rumor and now another one wants to latch on.
This time the word would be that I warmed the Crown Prince's bed, wouldn't it.
I sighed and shot a meaningful look at Rickson, who'd been observing our little performance. Quick-witted as ever, he nodded and promptly produced another slice of peach pie.
"Your Highness, yours was prepared separately."
His eyes met mine. I nodded my thanks, and Rickson nodded back as if to say he understood perfectly.
Wow, the Crown Prince breathed, a short gasp of admiration, then picked up his fork and cut into the pie.
"Thank you, Rickson."
"Don't mention it. There's plenty more, so just say the word if it isn't enough."
"Got it."
The Crown Prince nodded and ate. With him quieted by his pie, I too leisurely pushed a slice into my mouth.
The bright, sweet fragrance filled my mouth and flooded my senses.
Then our eyes met—the Crown Prince, chewing his pie with the utmost decorum. He was gazing at me with wide, deer-like eyes, and the moment we made eye contact his lips started to quiver, as if he were itching to say something.
I beat him to the punch.
"Your Highness."
"Yes, Butler?"
"I would be honored if you would speak to me more casually. When you use such elevated language with me, the other people's eyes on us become impossible to ignore."
"I didn't take you for someone who cares what others think."
"It isn't my reputation I'm worried about—it's bringing harm to the Grand Duke's house."
"Ahh."
Ha ha, the Crown Prince laughed, casting a quick glance around.
"Well, fair enough. It's not a difficult request. Then... shall I call you Freya?"
Better that than being called "Butler, butler" all day, I figured.
"Yes, please do."
"Very well, Freya. You're the first butler to ever scold me into dropping formality."
"Surely you don't use honorifics with butlers of other houses?"
"Hm? No?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"How would a butler from another house ever hold a conversation with me, in the first place?"
They wouldn't dare.
Ahahahaha. The Crown Prince's innocent laughter rang through the dining hall.
"But then, why me...?"
When I asked with an expression of utter bewilderment, the Crown Prince answered without missing a beat.
"Because you're pretty?"
"..."
You absolute menace. A die-hard looks-are-everything believer.
The Crown Prince continued.
"Besides, you're our empire's very first female butler. No—perhaps the continent's first. The first female butler to skip the Academy entirely. Who wouldn't find that fascinating?"
"..."
When I frowned, the Crown Prince laughed.
"And above all—you're Kadrian's person, aren't you?"
"..."
The Crown Prince smiled faintly, gazing at me with a soft, searching look.
I subtly averted my eyes from his gaze and sipped at the teacup Rickson had brought.
After sitting there in quiet contemplation for a while, the Crown Prince suddenly spoke with the air of a man who had made up his mind.
"Excellent! Freya, I hereby name you my very first butler friend!"
"...I'm sorry, what?"
A friend, all of a sudden? What an utterly out-of-nowhere Crown Prince.
Having no desire to prolong the conversation, I rose from my seat.
"The Grand Duke should be back in his chambers by now, so I'll take my leave as well."
"Oh? You're leaving?"
"Yes."
After that short reply, I turned to go.
That was when it happened.
"What exactly are the two of you doing right now?"
The Grand Duke was standing before me, his eyes glacial as he looked back and forth between me and the Crown Prince.