Chapter 86
Exactly three hours later, Hans knocked on the door to Franz’s bedroom.
“Come in.”
When Hans entered, the room was bright with the light of the lamps. He set the prepared suit on a chair to one side.
“Did you rest well, Your Highness?”
Franz had already finished his shower and had only a towel wrapped around his waist. He rubbed at his wet hair with another towel as he replied.
“Yeah. Slept like a log.”
“Thanks to your thoughtfulness, I rested well too.”
“You’re always moving around with me, Hans. You must be tired as well. Don’t overwork yourself and fall ill.”
Even in the light tone, there was a hint of genuine concern.
“I don’t even have time to date—being sick would be the last thing on my list.”
“Sounds like that’s a complaint.”
“Oh no, not at all, Your Highness.”
Hans’s exaggerated expression made Franz chuckle.
“So, when are you planning to give those earrings to the lady? At this rate, they’ll become antiques.”
He nodded toward a luxurious velvet box sitting on the table—a piece that had never seen daylight because it met the wrong owner.
“…”
Franz fell silent and stared at Hans wordlessly.
“Well, there’s been a lot going on,” Hans added awkwardly, glancing away from the prince’s expressionless gaze.
“When did I ever say I’d give them to Iella?”
“I know that much, Your Highness. They’re too mature for Her Majesty the Queen, but a bit too elegant for the princess. And since you’re not seeing anyone…”
The earrings, custom-made by Blancmer, had been sitting untouched since the Rose Festival. He’d meant to give them to Iella on his birthday, but she had left in the meantime—so they had stayed in his possession ever since.
Franz didn’t like how things had turned out. Everything felt slightly off, as if fate itself kept misaligning.
When I get back, I’ll have to talk to her properly.
“Your instincts are getting sharper. Anyone watching would think I’m giving you dirty looks all the time.”
“I’ve just learned by being around you, Your Highness. You’re my master, after all. Haha.”
Hans’s cheeky grin drew another small, amused laugh from Franz.
“Anything unusual?”
“I stopped by Lindberg’s office. Nothing new to report.”
“Hmm. How long has Lindberg been working here now?”
“About three months. Why, does he not meet your expectations?”
“It’s not that. I’m just concerned. He seems unusually nervous around me—like he can barely breathe.”
Every time the man stood before him, he went pale and inhaled deeply, as if oxygen itself had thinned out.
“Well, if the prince of Lapland doesn’t make him nervous, he’d have to be the bravest man alive.”
“If the job’s too hard for him, have a talk and move him to another department.”
“He’ll get used to it, I think—but I’ll talk to him just in case.”
“Do that.”
Once Franz finished dressing, the two entered the elevator.
“Would you like to stop by the office first, Your Highness?”
“No, let’s just go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hans inserted a key into the lock slot inside the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby floor.
When they stepped out and began crossing the lobby, Lindberg—who had just exited another elevator—spotted them and hurried over, looking startled.
“Heading home for the day?” Franz asked first.
“Y-yes, Your Highness! I—I just finished writing the minutes for the meeting. I’ll p-put them on your desk tomorrow morning!”
Words that usually came easily always stuck in his throat in front of the prince. Frustrated by his own clumsiness, Lindberg silently cursed himself.
“Alright, do that.”
Franz nodded and walked past him, unbothered by the man’s stiff, terrified demeanor. He was long used to people going pale in his presence.
Hans gave Lindberg’s shoulder a friendly pat as if to say hang in there and followed after his master.
Once inside the carriage, Franz sighed.
“Am I really that intimidating? Why does he look so terrified?”
“Well, meeting someone you’ve always admired can make anyone nervous, Your Highness.”
“Haah… Either he fixes that soon or we’ll move him elsewhere. Handle it by tomorrow.”
“Yes, understood.”
Franz clicked his tongue softly and turned his gaze toward the carriage window. That was when he caught sight of a woman entering a tea house.
Under the brim of her hat, long wavy brown hair shimmered like gold in the light as it swayed with each step.
The sight immediately reminded him of Iella. Her light brown hair had always glowed golden in sunlight—and brighter than her hair had been her radiant smile.
As Franz remembered the innocent smile Iella had shown him at Humphries Hill, he felt an impulsive urge to return to Biln that very moment.
Iella took a sip of the tea the server had placed before her. The warmth spread through her chest, washing away the travel fatigue.
She had just arrived in Eton, where she would board a ship to Phaerix at the harbor the following morning.
“I finally feel my body relaxing,” said Aunt Bernie with a relieved smile.
Iella smiled back.
The train ride from Biln to Eton had taken about an hour—not too long, but tiring nonetheless. If she was this exhausted, her aunt must have been too.
“You must be tired, Auntie.”
“This is nothing. But still, the body doesn’t bounce back like it used to every year.”
“You’re still young.”
Lady Linton, now in her late forties, still looked as youthful as a woman in her thirties.
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“I mean it.”
“Well, tomorrow you’ll be leaving Lapland. Aren’t you nervous?”
“A little. I’ve never taken a passenger ship before, and although I studied Phaerixian at the academy, I’m worried I won’t manage well.”
“I’ve already arranged for a tutor, so you needn’t worry too much. You’ll do just fine.”
Iella smiled softly at her aunt’s comforting words.
“Yes. I’ll do my best.”
“You don’t even need to try so hard—just keep being yourself.”
“Yes, Auntie.”
Iella’s smile lingered as she turned to look out the window. The night had settled over the lively port city, which buzzed with a different energy than Biln.
Watching the busy streets, she recalled the hotel they had passed on the way from the station.
‘That’s Prince Franz’s chain hotel, isn’t it?’
‘Is it?’
‘That’s right.’
She remembered Mr. Murray’s words—that Prince Franz was in Eton. Thinking that he might really be there, she had stared at the building for a long time.
“I was worried because you seemed down these past few days, but I guess I was mistaken,” said Aunt Bernie.
Iella turned and smiled faintly, though her tone held a trace of melancholy.
“I’m excited for a new beginning, but… goodbyes are always a little sad.”
Her voice softened, then she quickly changed the subject to lighten the mood.
“I can’t wait to see Phaerix. What’s the capital, Luang, like?”
“It’s the city of romance and splendor. They say ‘Luang is Phaerix.’ It’s the heart of art and culture. You’ll fall in love with it soon enough.”
“I can’t wait.”
“You should be excited. Now, let’s go back to the inn and rest early.”
“Alright.”
They were staying at a small inn near the harbor for the night.
Before getting into the carriage, Iella glanced once more at the grand hotel across the street, imprinting the image in her mind. Then, like her own determination to move forward without regret, she turned away.
The streets outside fell quiet and still—emptied like the space she left behind.
Hans’s day began, as always, by collecting the mail addressed to Prince Franz and taking it to the prince’s office.
Somehow, word had spread that the prince was staying in Eton, and invitations from nobles arrived by the pile every day. Merely sending out replies took up nearly all of Hans’s working hours.
As he carried a silver tray stacked with envelopes into the office, he noticed a single letter resting neatly on the desk.
“What’s this?”
He examined it more closely and froze when he saw the seal pressed into the wax—it wasn’t the royal emblem, but the crest the prince often used while residing at Grenville.
“A letter from Grenville?”
Hans immediately went to the secretarial office. When he opened the door, Lindberg stood up and bowed.
“Good morning, Mr. O’Neill.”
“Morning, Lindberg. This letter was on the prince’s desk—who brought it here?”
“Oh, that! A servant from Grenville came by yesterday evening and asked me to deliver it to the director.”
“Really? When exactly?”
“Just before His Highness left for the dinner banquet. I didn’t want to disturb him at rest, so I left it on his desk. Was that wrong of me…?”
Lindberg’s face turned anxious as he realized he might’ve made a mistake.
“Did the messenger say anything else?”
“He said Steward Murray had ordered him to deliver it directly to His Highness.”
“I see. It could be something urgent. Next time, even if I’m resting, bring such letters straight to me.”
“Yes, understood. I’ll remember that. My apologies.”
After giving his reminder, Hans took the letter to the prince’s private chambers.
Normally, Franz would already be awake, but after the nonstop schedule lately, he was still in bed—sleeping in for the first time in a while.
He’d come home late after an endless night of parties—the host was an old man fond of card games, which had kept him until dawn.
As Hans entered the bedroom, Franz was just pulling the bell cord.
“Good morning, Your Highness.”
“That damn old man ruined my condition. Next time, refuse any invitation from him before I even see it.”
Franz pressed his fingers to his temple, frowning. His voice was low and rough. Hans quickly poured him some water from the kettle and drew back the curtains.
“Still, Your Highness won the entire pot last night. Do you think he’d have let you go easily? You should’ve stopped sooner.”
“The word ‘moderation’ doesn’t exist in my dictionary.”
“I’ll prepare some restorative oil for a massage before we depart.”
“What’s that over there? Something I need to read first thing in the morning?”
Franz pointed to the silver tray on the table, frowning.
“It’s a letter, Your Highness—one that arrived from Grenville yesterday.”
