### Episode 10###
“Um, I’m really sorry….”
Charlotte spoke with a guilty expression. Because of her sudden movement, Philip coughed harshly. The two had to slip away to a corner of the ballroom hallway, out of people’s curious eyes.
Philip, still holding his chest, answered,
“It’s fine, Miss Charlotte. It was my fault for standing too close. But if it eased your discomfort, then I’m glad.”
Even while in pain, he looked at Charlotte’s loosened glove and spoke politely. Charlotte, seeing his honest eyes, felt even more guilty and stammered.
“Ah, the glove… it’s just….”
She couldn’t possibly admit that she had only wanted to signal him for a dance—and ended up hitting him in the chest instead.
*“The etiquette book clearly said to pull gently at the glove tip, gracefully, so no one would notice… but instead I punched my dance partner’s chest! Oh no…”*
Charlotte bit her lip and lowered her head. The romantic moment with Philip Oslo was ruined, and now she thought she might not get to dance at this ball either.
Philip saw her downcast face and spoke kindly again.
“Actually, I was feeling tired from all this hosting, in such a glittering and crowded place. Thanks to you, I could step away from people’s eyes and take a break.”
Charlotte lifted her head. His soft blond hair and shining blue eyes filled her view. He seemed to think she still felt guilty, so he was trying to comfort her. At that kindness, her disappointment about dancing melted away.
Philip smiled warmly.
“This ball is unusually grand, even by Oslo family standards. It’s because it’s for Prince Leopold of Holland.”
Charlotte’s ears perked up at the name Leopold. Philip, not noticing, continued as he looked at the busy guests moving at the entrance.
“Prince Leopold is known to have the qualities of a wise ruler. I don’t think he cares for such extravagance, but my father clearly wanted to leave a good impression before the important meeting in Vienna.”
“The important meeting in Vienna?” Charlotte asked, her dark brown eyes shining. She had thought Leopold came only to visit his godfather, the King of England.
Philip turned back to her. He had noticed before—Charlotte wasn’t like most ladies; she seemed interested in politics and history.
“Yes, Miss Charlotte. On his way to Vienna, Prince Leopold stopped by England. At the Vienna Congress, the independence of the Kingdom of Holland will finally be discussed.”
He explained in a gentle voice, happy to find something they had in common.
“Holland has long been supported by Napoleon of France. But Prince Leopold has always dreamed of creating a united Holland in northern Europe. Now that Napoleon has been defeated, this is the perfect chance for him—and for his country.”
Back when France and England clashed, Leopold was in a strange position: the English King was his godfather, yet Napoleon was his supporter. People said the two great powers would fight over Holland.
*Or rather, over Leopold himself.*
Philip, holding Charlotte’s bright gaze, went on.
“Prince Leopold may be from a small nation, but many young men across Europe respect him. He’s a rare strategist and progressive thinker. Some even say that if the world changes, Prince Leopold will be the one to start it.”
Charlotte’s heart raced. She had known Leopold was handsome and clever, but not that he was so extraordinary.
“To be the start of a world-changing movement! That’s such high praise. I only thought of him as mysterious and sly… Mr. Philip Oslo, do you know more about him?”
Philip’s ears turned slightly red. Talking about politics could be boring, but Charlotte listened with sparkling eyes. Maybe those rumors about her being reckless weren’t true after all.
“Haha, sly and unreadable—that part is true. Even skilled politicians can’t guess his thoughts. Some even say the reason he stopped in England instead of heading straight to Vienna was to find a bride.”
“A bride? You mean to become queen of a country?” Charlotte’s eyes went wide.
Philip sighed softly.
“Sadly, no. Even though he’s the eldest, Prince Leopold is not the son of the Queen, the King’s official wife. So the crown prince title was given to his younger brother.”
“Oh…” Charlotte murmured.
Philip nodded.
“He has the qualities of a ruler and the people’s trust. If he wanted, he could have claimed the title. But he is too noble to fight with his brother for the throne.”
Charlotte frowned in thought. A man so capable, loved by the people, yet unable to be king just because of his mother? It seemed unfair.
*“Of course, he himself chose to give it up, so he must have his reasons…”*
She sighed. Philip smiled faintly, as if reading her thoughts.
While they spoke, more and more guests filled the ballroom. Philip said,
“Even without the throne, there will be no shortage of ladies wishing to marry such a prince. That’s why nearly all of London’s nobility is here tonight.”
Charlotte glanced around. Philip’s admiration for Leopold, the excited guests, the glittering ballroom—it all made her feel like maybe seeing Leopold’s ghost had been a dream, and he might appear here at any moment.
Philip followed her gaze and asked,
“Could it be… Miss Charlotte, are you also interested in becoming his bride?”
“Me?!” Charlotte jumped. How could she dare? Surely Philip had never heard the gossip about her failing to secure a single suitor after three seasons.
“No, never!” she protested, waving her hands. Besides, she was the only one who knew about Leopold’s ghost-like state. How could she possibly be his bride—unless she planned to marry a ghost.
Philip laughed at her exaggerated reaction.
“Haha, that’s a relief for me. Because I…”
His pale face turned pink.
“…I wanted to ask you for a dance tonight.”
“Me? Dance with me?” Charlotte’s eyes widened. Then she remembered—yes, her goal tonight was to get Philip to ask her to dance. That’s why she had practiced with Leopold, studied the etiquette book, and even worn her tightest bodice.
“Yes, Miss Charlotte. May I have the first dance with you?”
Philip stepped closer and bowed. His gentle voice and respectful manner would make any woman’s heart flutter.
“Of course! Here, here!”
Charlotte, too eager, thrust her hand out so suddenly she nearly jabbed him again. At her wrist dangled a dance card decorated with mother-of-pearl.
Philip chuckled at her clumsy yet genuine gesture. Just then, murmurs rose from inside the ballroom.
“What’s happening…?”
Philip paused before writing his name on her card and looked toward the noise.
At the center stood Count Oslo, waving his hands desperately at the orchestra to stop playing. His face was pale as he shouted to the guests:
“P-Prince Leopold… Prince Leopold has…!”
—
