Chapter 108 ….
“…Wait, Safran, are you serious?”
“Yeah, I think marriage is better! It’s much more certain and a good way than just being friends.”
“But the princess is only six years old. And you’re nine. What kind of marriage are you talking about?”
“What’s the problem? I’ve heard that local nobles often arrange betrothals in advance.”
“You’re not a local noble…”
“Well, if I have to marry, I’d want a cute wife like the princess. And having someone strong like His Majesty as a mother-in-law would probably be reassuring.”
Pannel, at a loss for words, turned his head instead of arguing further with the cheerful wall of energy, saying, “Do as you like.”
“By the way, speaking of marriage, how’s Florence doing? And the Count… still the same?”
Pannel’s brows furrowed sharply upon being asked about his family, far more than usual.
“She’s fine, and the Count is still the same. He’s still traveling the country looking for his lost eldest daughter, and he’s just as determined to find a suitable marriage for her to secure the family’s position.”
Safran let out a bitter smile at his crooked answer.
“That must be tough, Pannel. Honestly… I don’t understand how someone as practical as the Count can blindly follow such superstitions.”
“It’s a kind of tradition. A practice passed down since the Presher family was first established.”
The absurd superstition dictated that daughters must be married off as far away as possible on their coming-of-age day to maintain the family’s wealth.
What was even more ridiculous was that the Presher family had never made a single exception to this superstition since its founding, all under the guise of tradition.
Pannel wanted to prove that the family could continue without adhering to such nonsense.
‘One day, I’ll partner with Investor L, establish my own trading company, and make it bigger than the Presher Trading Company.’
His goal was simple: prevent his one and only sister from being sent to a distant land through marriage.
Honestly, apart from tradition, Pannel didn’t like the idea of Florence marrying at all.
Thus, his ultimate goal could be said to be to elevate Florence above the Count and arrange for a husband to be brought in under her influence.
‘Actually, it would be better if she didn’t marry at all, but knowing her personality, that won’t happen. At least, I’ll make sure she lives a life different from all the other Presher daughters before her.’
To achieve that, Pannel was working harder than anyone else.
Safran looked at Pannel, who was clenching his teeth tightly, with worried eyes.
To Safran, Pannel always seemed like someone carrying a heavy burden alone.
‘Friends are supposed to share hardships.’
After a brief moment of thought, Safran set down the cat and approached Pannel.
“Pannel, if you ever need my help, just tell me. We’re friends, right?”
“…Friends?”
“Yeah, friends! I’ll help with anything you ask. Got it?”
“….”
At the gentle words paired with a bright smile, Pannel’s red eyes reflected a hint of warmth.
“Anything?”
“Yes, anything! If you’re feeling down, we could gather our friends for a croquet match sometime. Citrus, Clove… ah! Let’s invite Lavender too! They haven’t come to the capital in a long time. How about it?”
Though a bit naïve in his thinking, Safran’s character was undeniably good.
And he was the only true friend Pannel had, someone he could rely on.
With repeated offers to help in any way, Pannel quietly smiled, following Safran’s lead.
“Oh? Smiling again! Great. When spring comes, we’ll rent a field and play together. Should we invite the princess too? You’d be surprised to see His Highness in person…”
“That’s enough. Can you please just let me go home now?”
Even the best of friends couldn’t take three hours of Pannel’s time.
“Huh?”
“You said you’d help with anything I asked. So let me go home.”
Please.
Meanwhile, Ivy, who had overheard the children’s conversation in the hallway, wore a peculiar expression.
‘Marriage? Our Safi… with the princess… Jeusia’s daughter?’
A few days ago, she would have immediately burst into the room and scolded the son’s friend for such nonsense.
Her precious son, the most beautiful boy in the world, being entangled with Jeusia’s daughter—how outrageous!
She would have forced a promise never to speak of it again and even written to the Count to control his son.
Yet somehow, Ivy wasn’t angry at all.
On the contrary—
‘…This might actually be okay.’
If Safran was betrothed to the princess in advance, with a promise of becoming the future empress, there was no need to unnecessarily worry about the princess undermining him.
Marriage became a reasonable and rational method to ensure Safran’s safety on the throne without having to be suspicious of the princess.
‘Why didn’t I think of this before? Why did I only think of rejecting him?’
After briefly regretting past mistakes, pragmatic Ivy immediately started planning for the marriage.
Before even talking about betrothal, she first needed to clear her own name regarding the recent incident.
Seeing the stern gaze of the Astrefe knight captain who came to investigate today, Ivy realized she was undoubtedly considered a prime suspect.
Since she truly had no involvement in the Achillea tea incident, she responded calmly to the investigation, though she was anxious inside.
‘They won’t give me a hint about how the investigation is going, so even a minor slip of the tongue could make me take the blame for Lady Purkin’s actions.’
Vanilla, who cleared the commoner maid’s name last night, had gone out early this morning to prove her innocence, so this would likely be resolved.
She also had some evidence that the incident was solely Lady Purkin’s doing.
‘Then why do I feel so uneasy?’
The truth was, Ivy already knew why her feelings were complicated.
It wasn’t fear of being found guilty. It was guilt—that the princess had suffered because of her own spiteful feelings toward the girl.
‘Even if my innocence is proven, am I truly blameless?’
It was the first time she had felt such guilt.
And it was because of Jeusia’s daughter.
She couldn’t understand why she felt this way, but there was nothing she could do.
The image of the child peeking from behind the boy yesterday, looking at her warily, kept coming to mind.
‘Could it be that I’m under some strange magic? That she has some weird magical artifact?’
Even while thinking this way, Ivy vaguely knew the truth.
The reason she felt guilty, and why she couldn’t stop thinking about the girl, was simple: she liked Orferira.
It was unbelievable that she, who had considered the girl’s mother a lifelong thorn, now felt affection for her daughter. She let out a small sigh unconsciously.
“Milady.”
The butler, wearing a troubled expression, hurried up to her.
“What is it?”
“It’s Lady Purkin… she’s here.”
“Lady Purkin?”
At the mention of her name, Ivy’s brows immediately furrowed.
“Like me, she should be under house arrest, right?”
“Yes, but she snuck out and is now pleading to see the Duchess immediately. She insists she has something important to tell you… and she’s shouting your name outside the main gate.”
Ivy’s eyes narrowed at the butler’s report.
‘She must be scheming something.’
Lady Purkin was as relentless as she was greedy.
Ivy had expected that the woman would not be quietly expelled from the capital’s social scene.
‘I didn’t expect her to break the royal decree and come at this hour, though.’
Since she had once been her subordinate, Ivy would deal with her personally.
Tsk. Clicking her tongue, Ivy walked toward where the butler had run.
“Shall I summon the maids to assist her?”
Even for a brief outing, or when facing the Royal Guard captain earlier, she had always been impeccably dressed.
She considered it a necessary virtue for a noblewoman.
But unexpectedly, she shook her head.
“No need. I want to finish this quickly, so just bring a shawl. And since my fingers feel bare, the ruby ring as well.”
The ring Ivy always wore when meeting Lady Purkin was actually a magical device that recorded voice.
She had a strong intuition that today she would submit this ring to the Imperial Palace, and with a determined expression, she left the mansion.
