Chapter 11
“Your Majesty also sent me shoes.”
“Shoes?”
“The gift you sent through Lord Digory.”
He acted as if hearing it for the first time, then let out an ‘ah.’
“Ah, Arther said something like that.”
“…As I thought.”
“As you thought?”
Shaking her head as if it were nothing, Marcella thought, *So it wasn’t the Emperor who gave that gift after all.* Why was Arther Digory trying to give gifts, even lying about it?
“They must have been green shoes.”
Marcella, who thought the Emperor wouldn’t even know what had been sent, was surprised when Nell muttered while looking down at her feet. It seemed he at least knew what had been sent.
“I, I’ve been saving them to wear sparingly.”
Nell didn’t blame Marcella for her excuse, but his silence, instead, weighed heavily on her heart.
From a distance, she saw Arther walking toward them with long strides, as if something had angered him.
Instinctively, Marcella realized that if Arther arrived, getting away safely would become very difficult.
“Your Majesty, I just remembered something urgent. May I take my leave?”
Nell seemed to have forgotten whatever instructions Arther had given him, but he nodded.
“Your Majesty!”
*I told him to give flowers, and he gives flowers. I sent help, and he throws it away due to a communication error. On top of that, he forgets the original purpose—the apology—and sends Marcella away.* Arther called out to Nell with heartfelt exasperation.
“Your Majesty!”
“Yes.”
But Nell, tilting his head slightly, looked at the seemingly angry Arther with a calm, indifferent gaze.
Arther, who had a lot he wanted to say, found himself at a loss for words.
“It might have turned out for the better, Arther.”
“What on earth do you mean, ‘better’? Phoenix, if you have any clever plan, please tell me. I’m at the point where I might have to give back my name as the fatherless, dirty schemer.”
As Arther sighed, Phoenix patted his back and chuckled.
“Don’t give it back; keep it safely. You’ll need to keep using it.”
She pointed her eyes at Nell, who was holding a rose, and whispered in Arther’s ear.
“Look, Nell keeps holding that rose as if it were part of him. Have you ever seen Nell act like that? He’ll probably fall asleep clutching it in his hand.”
“So what? She’s returning to Morris Territory in two days.”
“Fatherless Arther, why are you talking weak, unlike yourself?”
Phoenix’s eyes narrowed.
Unconsciously radiating heat, she made Arther want to push her away because it was hot, but the more he did, the closer she clung.
“Do you think another person Nell shows that much interest in will appear? Well, maybe one could, but how many years later would that be?”
“That’s why I was trying to keep that lady… Oh, oh, Phoenix…”
Arther looked at Phoenix and nodded as if he understood. Phoenix also smiled at Arther.
Tamarin watched the two and snorted, then plopped down beside Nell.
He watched Nell, who was writing something in a notebook with the rose still on his finger. He tried to peek at what he was writing, but Nell’s handwriting was so terrible that no one else could read it.
“Forget the delusions of those two, but what about you?”
At Tamarin’s question, Nell lifted his head. He tilted his head as if he didn’t understand Tamarin’s words.
***
The next day, a single golden invitation was delivered to the hotel where Marcella was staying. Since the deliverer wasn’t Arther Digory, Marcella had let her guard down. Seeing the shiny invitation’s color and the dragon—the imperial crest—made her head ache.
“Please read it now.”
Moreover, the messenger urged her.
Marcella didn’t want to read it, but the knight who brought the letter was firm.
Seeing the golden insignia, he seemed to be an imperial knight. Sending an imperial knight as a mere letter courier… she could guess who was behind it without serious thought.
*‘I was very rude yesterday. I invited you to apologize, but in my joy, I couldn’t even bring myself to apologize and sent you away. If you still have time, I would like to formally apologize. Please understand my heart and grant me the opportunity to apologize.’*
The handwriting was neat, but the word ‘apologize’ appeared so many times that Marcella was confused if she was reading it correctly.
She read the letter once more and looked at the knight who had come as the messenger.
“This letter is from Lord Digory, right?”
The eyebrow of the knight, who had been maintaining a serious expression, twitched. Marcella looked at him suspiciously.
“A carriage is prepared below.”
“…I haven’t said a single word about going.”
“It is a golden invitation stamped with the imperial crest.”
*Is your life not precious enough?* The knight’s gaze seemed to say that.
Marcella read the contents once more with her eyes and let out a sigh.
“I thought a golden invitation was for something a bit more important.”
“There is no such thing as an unimportant matter among those bestowed by His Majesty.”
The knight showed a displeased expression. He seemed a different type of knight from Arther Digory. A loyal, steadfast knight of His Majesty.
Marcella thought the insignia draped over his shoulder suited him very well.
“I suppose I have no power to refuse?”
“My lady, why would you utter a word like ‘refusal’ upon seeing this glorious invitation?”
The knight looked genuinely incredulous.
Realizing she had misspoken, Marcella raised her hand.
“I misspoke. It’s just that I received a golden invitation yesterday and again today. It feels too much for someone like me, so it’s hard to believe.”
“In front of His Majesty, please be careful not to make any mistakes. Just being able to see you like this is such a great honor… (omission) …Do you understand? My lady? His Majesty is more noble than anyone who ascended the throne at sixteen. He is the only one comparable to the Dragon-Slaying King. You probably don’t know because you didn’t see how he was in the final battle with the deposed Duke Ox, but…”
He rambled on with stories she didn’t even want to hear.
If it were just talking, it would have been bearable, but the knight kept interspersing remarks that belittled Marcella.
Marcella wrote down her judgment—that she had briefly thought he looked serious—on a mental piece of paper. And then she ruthlessly tore it to shreds.
If Arther Digory was pushy and a swindler, this man was a rude fanatic blindly loyal to the Emperor.
“Lady Marcella!”
Today, since Arther Digory hadn’t delivered the invitation, she thought he wasn’t coming. But Arther Digory greeted Marcella cheerfully in front of the carriage.
Unconsciously, a relieved smile spread across Marcella’s face at the sight of the pushy swindler who would save her from this rude knight. He at least knew she wasn’t pleased with this invitation.
“You were so late I thought you might be unwell again.”
Even though he teased her with a smile the moment they met.
Seeing the splendid carriage conspicuously waiting in front of the hotel, Marcella couldn’t help but let out a deflated laugh.
Passersby, staying nobles and wealthy people were watching them.
“Lord Digory.”
“Oh, please don’t decline, Lady Marcella. If you return to Morris Territory like this, His Majesty won’t even be able to sigh in peace while sleeping.”
“Lord Digory, I cannot let that remark pass. What reason would His Majesty have for not sleeping peacefully?”
Before Marcella could say he was exaggerating too much, the knight challenged Arther. Arther shrugged and then got into the carriage, holding out his hand to Marcella.
“Now, now, His Majesty is waiting. Shall we go?”
“Marcella!”
As Arther urged Marcella and held out his hand, a still-youthful male voice was heard from somewhere.
Arther’s brow momentarily furrowed, but he quickly feigned a smile and observed Marcella, who hadn’t given her hand yet. Marcella, recognizing the owner of the voice, had a serious frown on her face.
“You’ve been smearing dirt on the faces of all us eastern nobles, and yet you dare walk around with your head held high!”
*Why am I only meeting unpleasant people today of all days?* Marcella snorted at the sight of Donner, who was striding toward her but flinched upon seeing the knight with the golden insignia.
His face turned bright red at being laughed at, and he began to seethe.
“If you keep smearing dirt on the east, I won’t stand for it!”
Donner roughly grabbed Marcella’s arm. Marcella’s eyes widened.
“What are you doing?”
Marcella tried to pull away, but Donner wouldn’t let go.
A derisive snort came from inside the carriage. Donner didn’t know who was inside, but he knew they had just laughed at him.
How dare they! Him, the eldest son of the Kravan Count family ruling Wellings!
“Hey, I don’t know who’s in there, but do you know who I am!”
“Let go, Donner. And—”
“I am of Wellings in the east…!”
“Ah, ahem. My apologies for not introducing myself. Aren’t you the eldest son of the Kravan Count family?”
“Arther Digory…!”
“Oh, I’m honored that the eldest son of the Kravan Count family of Wellings in the east knows my name.”
“Fatherless Arther…!”
As Donner spat out the words while inhaling sharply, Marcella’s eyes widened and she glared at Donner.
Of course, Arther Digory was a pushy swindler, and she didn’t like him either, but to say ‘fatherless’ to someone whose father was clearly alive… Even if that was his nickname, it was too much to say it to his face.
On the other hand, Arther, seeing this young friend unable to hide his fear of him while also failing to control his mouth, felt like holding his stomach and laughing.
But since Marcella was present, he held back for now.
“Thank you for asking after my father’s well-being. My father is healthy and well, free from illness.”
*Uselessly so.* Arther swallowed the words and smiled.
“Marcella, you…!”
Donner’s arrow of anger mistakenly turned toward Marcella.
Marcella winced as the arm he grabbed hurt. She tried to wrench free, but Donner only gripped tighter.
