Chapter 59
Blind Date (4)
A makeshift office hastily prepared in a royal-owned mansion. Those who spent their busy days shuttling between the pavilion, the training grounds, and the mansion were all staring blankly at the towering piles of reports they had to process.
“Ah… please… just stop causing accidents… Should I give everyone a good flick on the forehead until their brains turn to mush?”
“Well, hitting them might reduce the number of accidents, but we can’t have disgraceful behavior at our first swordsmanship tournament.”
“They’re being punished appropriately! So why not just one good flick each? Nothing more, nothing less!”
“So you’ve finally lost your mind.”
Heint tugged at his short, grass-like hair in frustration. He was in charge of guarding and overseeing the royal family during the tournament and had been handling all incidents that arose both inside and outside the arena. Being surrounded by hot-blooded men meant he was experiencing the busiest days of his life.
“I haven’t seen Leti’s face in over four days… sniff. This is torture. She’s in our house, so why can’t I see her!”
“She’s not at the mansion right now.”
Sart, who frequently came and went from the mansion, said as he rifled through the reports. Even if they went to the mansion briefly, it wasn’t like they could see Letina. Repeatedly handling the mansion’s affairs in place of their father meant that even if they did see her, all they could manage was a brief greeting.
“The Grand Duchess took her along.”
“Grand Duchess? Ugh… that sly old woman, why?”
“Father called her. I only heard about it briefly this morning, so I don’t know the details. But the fact that Father called the Grand Duchess—who became Letina’s chaperone—to the capital means…”
As Sart’s words dragged on, Herald’s pen tip slipped as he eavesdropped.
“Ah, that’s it. That… word… matchmaking?!”
Heint raised his voice, trying to recall the elusive word. Yes. Today was the day Letina was attending a matchmaking meeting. Since it was a sensitive matter, the suitor’s identity, a prince from the North, had not been disclosed. Heint had been shocked and distressed when Sart told him this during lunch.
“Oh, how could I have forgotten? I really must be out of my mind. Sart, slap me on the cheek.”
“Quiet, Mil. We’re not alone here.”
“Even if it’s just us here…”
Heint’s eyes rolled around as he glanced at the surroundings, eventually stopping at one point.
“Ah, Herald wouldn’t know, would he.”
Muttering to himself, Heint received a light tap on the head from Sart, who rolled up a piece of paper.
“Stop messing around and focus on your work. You don’t have time for other thoughts. If you can’t finish today, tomorrow will be twice as bad.”
“Ah! No! Sart, please help me!”
“If you don’t get distracted, you can handle it all by yourself.”
Sart silenced Heint’s loud complaints and then glanced at Herald, who was signing the documents they had handed over. Even though the pen’s nib pressed into the paper and the ink spread in a round blot, his hand didn’t move.
“Miss Letina… what?”
Herald, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, lifted his head and asked, his hoarse voice carrying a slightly metallic tone. Sart sighed, while Heint, unaware of their true relationship, assumed his chatter had caused the reaction and fell silent.
“He asked what Letina went to do. Heint de Nyube.”
“Um… so, Letina is coming to watch my match tomorrow. Yeah. She comes to see all of our matches.”
Heint, sweating profusely, tried to explain. His sharp instincts, honed through years of swordsmanship practice, signaled that he should not reveal to Herald that Letina was attending a matchmaking meeting.
“That’s not what I asked.”
But despite Heint’s attempt to change the subject, Herald persistently extracted the truth from their conversation. He openly asked the question he wanted answered.
“Who is Letina meeting for the matchmaking?”
A sense of foreboding emanated from him. Frightened, Heint told Herald the full story. In doing so, he even revealed details Herald hadn’t asked for, shrinking under Sart’s disapproving gaze.
“So… Letina went to meet Prince Norden Raglas over there.”
By now, Heint had started referring to Letina in a more familiar tone. Herald tossed the pen he had been holding onto the desk; he couldn’t focus at all, so holding onto the pen was useless.
“Those old folks are at it again.”
Herald rubbed his neck as if in pain, recalling Duke de Nyube’s earlier plan, which Sart had mentioned. An inexplicable ache poked at him in various places.
“Duke de Nyube is fine with sending Letina as a hostage to the North?”
“It’s not about sending her as a hostage. Rather… if Letina goes to the North, she’ll be able to live more comfortably. She’s quiet and seeks a new place, so it suits her…”
Heint awkwardly twisted his words, unable to honestly admit that her silver hair made the North a more suitable place. Sart, watching him fumble, shook his head.
“Herald knows too. That Letina has silver hair.”
“…Huh?”
Heint’s jaw dropped. He looked at Sart and asked,
“When did you find out?”
“When she was at the mansion. They saw her roaming around at night.”
“Why?”
“Because Letina takes off her wig when she goes to bed.”
But since Letina stayed in the second-floor bedroom, the probability of her encountering the Crown Prince on the first floor at night was nearly zero. Heint’s mind went completely blank.
Why didn’t they tell me even though they knew? The unspoken words drifted away with the air.
“She has a color that dazzles even someone who doesn’t believe in curses. I finally understand why it’s called a curse.”
Herald sneered, having eavesdropped. He had never stopped thinking about her since seeing her silver hair. The thirst to possess her grew more intense with each passing day, and it felt like the curse itself.
“I always thought her brown hair didn’t suit her. Turns out it was a wig. I’m glad, actually.”
He recalled Letina without her wig. Even in the mansion, he had been the first to remove her wig and press his lips to the falling hair.
Sart, unsettled by Herald’s possessive words, ignored it and gave a belated report.
“It seems Father noticed I’ve been tracking this. Things progressed faster than expected.”
“Why didn’t Heint tell me what he knows?”
“It hasn’t been long for us either. Since the marriage hasn’t been confirmed, we didn’t mention it. Plus, there’s a lot to focus on.”
Though he hadn’t reported to Herald, Sart had been keeping a close eye on his father’s movements. After tracing his actions since Letina arrived in the capital, he reached one conclusion:
“Father intends to free Letina from the curse while placing her in a position where no one can treat her carelessly.”
Letina’s opinion was disregarded in the process. Nevertheless, Sart believed going to the North would make her happier than staying in the Empire, so the plan had been in motion since she became independent.
“Father sees Letina’s mother as having inherited Northern royal blood, and he believes Letina inherited it too.”
Her silver hair and the old stories her grandmother told—they were just long-standing gossip about people persecuted for being ‘cursed.’ After Cecelica’s death, his father had learned something significant about the North.
“I don’t know the details yet, but I can guarantee that Father’s desired future involves the North.”
This was something even Heint didn’t know. Each new revelation from Sart changed his expression.
“Father will choose a safe and reliable method. Rather than relying on fickle nobles for support, he’ll use a stronger—”
Thud. Sart slammed his hand on the desk. Under his palm lay a sheet of paper.
“A useful card, I mean.”
It was Norden’s tournament registration document; he had already secured his third victory in the main competition.
