The Crown Princess's Hidden Pregnancy
A little while later, the teahouse owner climbed up to the second floor and asked cautiously.
“A distinguished guest from another country has requested a quiet spot. If it’s all right with you young ladies, may I show them to seats up here on the second floor?”
With nearly one hundred percent certainty, the “distinguished guest from another country” had to be the Crown Princess of Bellot.
Ivetta had pinned her hair up and put on a hat for a discreet outing, so her distinctive pink locks were completely hidden. As a result, the owner seemed to assume we were simply noble daughters out for a leisurely afternoon.
Even though we had claimed the second floor first, the other party was royalty; apparently he thought it was worth asking for our understanding, which was why he had come upstairs.
“Yes, we’re perfectly fine with it.”
After exchanging glances with Beth and me, Ivetta gave her cheerful consent. The owner bowed repeatedly in gratitude before hurrying back down.
It wasn’t long before the Crown Princess appeared, leaning on her maid’s arm for support.
She looked so drained that she might have collapsed onto the stairs at any moment. Yet the instant she reached the entrance to the second floor, she waved the maid away with a graceful gesture and approached our table with impeccable poise.
The Crown Princess offered us her thanks.
“I’ve intruded on friends enjoying their time together. Thank you for your understanding.”
Had we not seen her pale face and watched her being helped up the stairs, her composed greeting might have led us to believe she simply had naturally fair skin.
She never stated her title aloud. Still, she wore traditional Bellot attire, and the fact that she had been residing in the empire for some time carried the unspoken assumption that we would recognize her rank.
Having barely finished her greeting, the Crown Princess turned away as though standing any longer was too taxing and headed for a table a short distance from ours.
After taking only a few unsteady steps, she suddenly pressed a hand to her forehead and swayed violently.
“Your Highness!”
The maid, who had been trailing her with anxious eyes, rushed forward to catch her.
“I’m all right.”
The Crown Princess straightened with the maid’s help, but she clearly wasn’t fine; she sank into the nearest chair.
In a tired voice, she told the fidgeting maid, “I’d like some lemonade. If you don’t have any, anything cool and refreshing will do.”
“I’ll fetch it at once.”
The maid hurried down the stairs.
The Crown Princess leaned back heavily in her seat. Ivetta, who had been quietly observing her, spoke up with gentle caution.
“Hello, Your Highness the Crown Princess.”
The Crown Princess turned toward us with mild surprise, clearly not expecting to be addressed. When her eyes met Ivetta’s, they widened dramatically.
Sky-blue eyes and the glimpse of pink hair beneath the hat—after the incident that had shaken the capital, Ivetta’s appearance had been splashed across every newspaper. Her features were quite recognizable.
“Are you… the Saintess, by any chance?”
The Crown Princess asked as if confirming her suspicion. Ivetta, who had apparently intended to reveal herself from the moment she spoke, nodded without hesitation.
“If you’re feeling unwell, may I heal you?”
Her blue eyes brimmed with concern. It seemed the Crown Princess, who had been pretending everything was fine, had finally reached her limit.
“Thank you for your kindness.”
After a moment’s hesitation, the Crown Princess accepted the offer.
The moment she agreed, Ivetta rose and moved to her side.
“May I take your hand?”
Ivetta had never used her healing power on anyone suffering from anything other than exhaustion or chronic fatigue. She needed to be careful and follow proper procedure.
“Of course.”
They clasped hands. The warm flow of Ivetta’s holy power was visible even to the naked eye as it poured into the Crown Princess.
The stream of gentle light moved far more slowly and delicately than when it had relieved the accumulated fatigue Kylus and I once carried. Yet the sheer volume of power was so great that the Crown Princess’s complexion visibly improved in real time.
“Thank you.”
The person receiving the healing would feel the change even more clearly than Beth and I, who were merely watching. In a much brighter voice, the Crown Princess thanked Ivetta again.
But no modest reply came from Ivetta. She stood frozen, as though stunned by something. Even from behind, her confusion was palpable.
“Saintess?”
The Crown Princess called to her carefully, puzzled.
Only then did Ivetta lift her head with a start.
“I didn’t mean to… This is my first time treating someone who is truly ill, so I was concentrating so hard that…”
Her voice was barely above a whisper and her sentence trailed off, but the Crown Princess seemed to grasp the meaning.
From where we sat we could only see Ivetta’s back, but I imagined she wore an utterly crestfallen expression.
It looks like Ivetta sensed something abnormal about the Crown Princess while she was healing her.
The health of high-ranking individuals was treated as a state secret in every nation. Even though Ivetta had not intended it, discovering an irregularity in the Crown Princess’s condition through holy power was a considerable breach of etiquette.
The Crown Princess offered a gentle smile, as if she had anticipated this.
“It was done with good intentions. I won’t blame you.”
When the Crown Princess kindly reassured her, Ivetta’s shoulders finally relaxed.
In a noticeably brighter tone, she said, “The baby must be very strong. Its presence is already so clear.”
It was a relief that it wasn’t a serious illness, but…
Pregnant? The Crown Princess?
I somehow kept my face neutral, but inside I was reeling.
There had only been talks of a political marriage; the Crown Princess was still unmarried. When she said it was “all right,” she had probably meant it was fine for Ivetta alone to know about her condition. Even in the empire, where love marriages had become common among the nobility, premarital pregnancy remained taboo. Naturally, she would have expected Ivetta to pretend ignorance.
Yet Ivetta seemed completely unaware that negotiations for a state marriage between the Crown Princess of Bellot and an imperial noble were underway. The maids at the detached palace were all carefully chosen by Kylus and kept their lips tightly sealed, and neither Beth nor I had any interest in gossip.
The Crown Princess is in her late twenties this year, isn’t she?
A woman of age—especially one from conservative Bellot—becoming pregnant would never lead Ivetta to assume she was unmarried. She had simply offered her sincere congratulations.
Since Bellot’s marriageable age is earlier than the empire’s, it makes sense that Ivetta would think that way.
The Crown Princess’s expression had grown extremely awkward. Noticing the shift in atmosphere and realizing she had misspoken again, Ivetta turned toward me with a tearful face.
I stepped forward to smooth things over.
“The Saintess’s escort knights are guarding the area, so our conversation won’t have leaked outside. We won’t breathe a word of this, so please be generous and overlook it.”
Only after hearing my explanation did Ivetta seem to fully understand the situation.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was a secret. I absolutely won’t tell anyone.”
Ivetta apologized in a fluster. Given how much attention the topic had received, the Crown Princess probably had a general idea of Ivetta’s background.
She seemed to possess a practical, straightforward personality. When Ivetta kept promising to keep the secret, the Crown Princess nodded as though deciding to accept what had already happened.
“Then I’ll be counting on you.”
The Crown Princess looked at Ivetta, then at Beth and me in turn. It was a request for the two of us to hold our tongues as well. She appeared to think of us as the Saintess’s attendants but chose not to comment further.
“Yes! We definitely won’t say anything among ourselves either. As an apology, may I bestow a blessing upon the baby and Your Highness?”
“It would be an honor.”
The Crown Princess accepted Ivetta’s timid olive branch.
Once again, warm light enveloped her body. While receiving the blessing, she closed her eyes and prayed for her child.
It was a touching scene, yet Beth—who would normally have chimed in with at least one comment—remained unusually quiet.
When this girl goes silent, it always makes me nervous.