Chapter 39………………………………………
Because I Want to Get to Know You Better (4)
I pulled my hands out of the soil and said,
“All right. I’ve planted everything.”
“With utmost sincerity?”
“Of course. Now water them once every four days. Let me know when they sprout. Then they shouldn’t rot anymore.”
Watching Enrique nod leisurely, I dusted the dirt off my hands.
My dress was completely covered in soil—I was sure Ella would scold me—but I felt refreshed.
Is this why Enrique likes the garden?
“This is actually a pretty nice hobby. So this is why Your Highness likes the garden.”
“Hmm?”
Enrique, who had stuck the shovel into the ground, turned to look at me with a puzzled expression.
“Not particularly. I’ve never liked it.”
“…What?”
Images flashed through my mind—Enrique insisting on having lessons in the garden no matter if it rained or stormed.
Then why did you do that? Unbelievable.
Perhaps reading my expression, Enrique narrowed his eyes.
“…It’s not that I like the garden. I just hated the reception room.”
“The reception room?”
“I don’t like other people setting foot in the reception room.”
He slowly draped an arm over the handle of the shovel stuck in the dirt and leaned his weight against it.
“To the point that I want to kill them.”
“……”
Right. That’s true. I nearly died like that once.
“May I ask why?”
Enrique, who had been looking at me quietly, answered shortly.
“My mother died there.”
“Ah.”
I barely swallowed my gasp.
I hadn’t known.
I hadn’t known that the Empress had died in the Crown Prince’s palace reception room.
Not just the location—almost nothing about the Empress’s assassination had ever been properly revealed.
Even now, more than five years later, the mastermind behind it had never been identified.
For several years, a search party led by the Empress’s younger brother, Chancellor Rondel Rubens, had scoured the Empire, but the culprit was never found.
The rebel faction from that time was considered the most likely suspect.
But even that rebel force had been completely annihilated by the Crown Prince himself during his exile.
“……”
Enrique slowly straightened up from the shovel handle he had been leaning on.
“Then I suppose you don’t know why I went so far as to ask the Grand Duke’s son to obtain that tea for me.”
“You were a little particular about it. Why?”
“It was my mother’s favorite tea.”
“Ah.”
That was an even sturdier bait than I’d expected.
I had wondered why he was suddenly seeking tea from the Kingdom of Hamel. If it had been the Empress’s favorite—she had been a princess of Hamel—it made perfect sense.
“Isn’t there any left in the Imperial Palace?”
“It disappeared during the five years I was away. Without a trace.”
“…I see.”
His answer sounded strangely bitter.
For a moment, Enrique didn’t seem like the murderous Crown Prince. He seemed like a young man his age, still longing for his mother.
“…Then I’ll be more careful about mentioning Her Majesty the Empress. I think I was inconsiderate.”
As I hesitated and spoke,
“No. Don’t worry about it.”
Enrique smiled gently.
“I’m handling that matter myself.”
“…Handling it?”
What exactly was he handling?
“If you get dragged into it, I might kill you when I lose control. You’ve seen it a few times already.”
He lazily murmured as he rolled down his sleeves. His thick muscles disappeared beneath his shirt again.
“Ah.”
I suddenly remembered how he had easily subdued thugs in the back alley.
And how he had been searching for something at the auction house recently.
If the Empress’s sapphire necklace hadn’t been his target…
“No way…”
Was he still investigating the incident on his own, even after returning from exile?
Before I could finish the question, Enrique cut me off.
“Anyway, do you like the reception room, Teacher?”
…Huh?
“Wait—can we have lessons there?”
He said he hated other people stepping inside.
I didn’t want to let him change the subject so easily, but this was important to me.
Did this mean I wouldn’t have to shiver through lessons in the Crown Prince’s garden in the rain or wind anymore?
No more textbooks getting soaked or blown away?
As I quickly lifted my head, Enrique looked at me as if I were pitiful.
“Of course not. Did you already forget what I just said? I hate other people coming in.”
What’s with him?
“…Ah. Yes. That’s fine. Then why did you ask?”
“Just because.”
“Oh. I see.”
After straightening his clothes, Enrique moved toward the door as if to leave the greenhouse first.
“……”
Is he just trying to tease me?
I glared at his back.
Annoyingly, his physique was excellent—his long legs strode through the greenhouse.
And just before he opened the door, the owner of those long legs suddenly turned around.
“Teacher.”
That startled me.
“Ah, yes.”
Kind eyes. Kind eyes.
I hurriedly composed my expression and looked at him. Enrique smiled faintly.
“From the next lesson onward, come inside the Crown Prince’s palace. I’ll have a room prepared.”
“…What?”
Wait—really?
After saying that, Enrique left the greenhouse, leaving only Lillian behind.
Lillian Crimson’s reaction had been quite amusing.
Amusing enough that he thought giving her one room in the Crown Prince’s palace would be fine.
At that time, Enrique had no idea just how much he would end up giving Lillian Crimson.
“Lady Crimson!”
After finishing today’s lesson and just leaving the Crown Prince’s palace, someone urgently called out to me.
Who is it?
“…?”
When I turned toward the voice—
“Lady Crimson. That’s you, correct?”
A man with brown hair and green eyes, with a gentle impression, ran toward me from afar and stopped right in front of me.
I didn’t recognize him at all.
I lightly gathered my dress and greeted him.
“…If you’re looking for Lillian Crimson, that is correct. But may I ask who you are?”
“Ah. My apologies. I should have introduced myself first.”
The man quickly straightened his clothes and bowed slightly. Even his smallest gestures carried courtesy and refinement.
“I am Marot, Marquis Marot. I also serve as the Minister of Foreign Affairs.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Marquis.”
I returned the formal greeting while thinking quietly.
Marquis Marot. I had seen that name on the list I memorized to teach Enrique.
I could even picture the portrait next to his name. He seems to have lost some weight. Has something happened?
“But what brings you to me?”
As I lifted my head after the greeting, I looked at him with curiosity.
Marquis Marot chuckled amiably and suddenly grabbed my wrist.
“Ha ha ha. Must there always be a reason? I was simply curious how you’ve been.”
Do you even know me that well?
Before I could fully process my confusion, the marquis continued.
“And I have a small request.”
Oh no.
“I heard that you are the Grand Duke’s son’s private tutor. Would it be possible for you to take on my child as well?”
“Ah. A private tutor.”
As expected.
Marquis Marot was far from the only noble who had approached me with this request.
“I sincerely hope you will consider it. My child has quite a lot to learn from the beginning.”
As my workbook gained an excessively high prediction rate and became overly famous, wealthy families moved beyond just buying the books—they wanted to hire me personally as a private tutor.
Thanks to that, I had already paid off more than half of my count family’s mountain of debt with just the workbook sales. I was practically raking in money.
But no matter how much I liked money, my schedule was already more murderous than my top-instructor days in my previous life.
So I gave him my usual refined, roundabout rejection.
“Why choose someone as lacking as myself?”
“You are too modest. Isn’t it every parent’s wish to give their child the very best teacher?”
A model answer. About fifty percent of the parents who had tried to hire me used that exact line.
Perhaps because he was the Minister of Foreign Affairs and skilled in dealing with people, Marquis Marot seemed especially gentle—but you never truly know a person by appearances.
Just as angel-faced Sylvia was like a mischievous beagle, and stern-looking Logan was actually mild.
Anyway, do you know what I always say to nobles like this?
I smiled brightly and said,
“I completely understand that sentiment. Then let’s meet sometime.”
Korean interpretation: Let’s never meet.
