Chapter 29
Hans agreed with Franz’s opinion.
Although the prince had a reputation as the royal family’s wastrel—indifferent to life and uninterested in most things—he was, surprisingly, diligent.
“Our chain hotels, both domestically and abroad, are experiencing an unprecedented boom. You should start taking things a bit easier and think about your health.”
Also… find a sweetheart and get married.
The last thought stayed only inside Hans’s mouth.
“Sounds like you’re pretty satisfied with your salary—telling me to take it easy and all.”
“What? No, that’s not what I meant!”
“I know.”
When Hans stammered, Franz gave a small smile, as if joking.
“I like money. Money doesn’t betray you.”
“I’m so glad we like the same things, Your Highness.”
Franz gave him a look as if to ask What do you mean by that? and Hans continued in a confident tone.
“Work and money.”
Now that he heard it, it made sense.
“That’s true.”
“This one will do nicely. Blue tones suit you well, Your Highness.”
Choosing an ascot tie the same color as Franz’s eyes, Hans handed it to him and took a step back.
The prince, perfectly dressed, left not a single flaw to be found—so flawless it was beyond comparison, to the point one couldn’t even feel jealous.
Soon after, Hans and Murray followed to see him off. Outside, a carriage was already waiting.
“I’ll be late, so don’t wait for me.”
Franz addressed Murray as he climbed aboard.
“Then, have a safe trip.”
Hans and Murray both bowed politely in farewell, followed by the rest of the servants lined up.
“Safe travels.”
Once the carriage door closed, the coachman set off. Watching it disappear into the distance, Hans muttered, “Since he’s dressed so finely, it’d be nice if fate showed up—if only by chance.”
* * *
Eyla had just delivered a commissioned portrait and was leaving the shop-lined alley next to the cathedral. The sight of shops closing for the day created a mood quite different from the midday bustle.
At the top of the 120 steps that symbolized Pelga Square stood the grand cathedral, and the night view from those steps was truly picturesque. Eyla would sometimes come here to watch the sunset.
Strolling through the square and climbing the steps to see the sunlight filtering between the buildings always filled her with joy. The breathtaking view painted her heart with vivid, sunset-colored emotions, making her chest tighten in a pleasant way.
But today she had been delayed, and the sun was already sinking.
“Too bad. It’s already gone.”
Gazing for a moment at the fading light, she slowly descended the long staircase.
Unlike the quiet cathedral grounds, the area around the fountain at the square’s center bustled with couples on dates and people enjoying an evening stroll.
This was her last commission. Of course, she still had Allen’s request, but she had stopped accepting new ones. She feared her secret might be exposed—unsure how long she could keep it—and the thought made her suddenly uneasy.
If it weren’t for Allen’s threats, she would gladly pay the penalty and quit everything. But that, too, wasn’t so easy.
It had been a long time since she’d felt this unwell. She was normally healthy, rarely even catching a cold, but lately the stress and anxiety had taken a toll, her body now protesting with fatigue.
She hadn’t fallen ill on purpose, yet she felt guilty for giving others something new to worry about.
Stepping out of the stifling atmosphere of her home, she breathed in the crisp evening air that seemed to fill her lungs to the brim.
“Still… it’s good I came out. I feel a little less stifled.”
Before she left, Betty had insisted on going in her place, but with her leg wound not yet healed, it was out of the question.
‘My lady, going out is too much for you. You need to rest. I’ll go instead.’
‘I’m feeling better. My body’s lighter, my head’s not spinning. Besides, how would you go out with your leg like that?’
‘But… can’t you postpone the meeting?’
‘The letter said they’re taking the night train to the summer villa tonight. The schedule got moved up by two days, but thankfully I finished the work in advance.’
‘Then at least take Mary with you.’
‘No. No one but you and I can know about this. Absolutely no one. Just tell them I went to bed early. I’ll be back quickly.’
“I’d better hurry back.”
Following the smooth, lamplit stone path, Eyla walked briskly toward the carriage stand. On the familiar road, a sudden breeze carried the fresh scent of a forest, tickling her nose.
“…Hm?”
The fragrant wind swirled briefly before fading away. But it was impossible for the smell of a forest to reach the middle of the city.
Finding it odd, she started walking again—only to hear someone calling to her from afar.
Turning around, she saw a carriage stopped by the side of the road. Its black exterior was trimmed with gold, exuding an air of luxury.
What is this? Are they calling me?
Looking around, she saw no one else.
“Me?”
Eyla pointed to herself with wide eyes. The coachman standing beside the carriage tipped his hat and bowed to her. She glanced behind again, but there was still no one else.
She approached the carriage slowly. Up close, she noticed the royal crest and the insignia of the Order of the Garter engraved on its side.
“…Ah.”
Her brows furrowed as her once-steady heartbeat turned erratic.
Seriously? If you have something to say, you could’ve just waited until tomorrow! Do you think I’m happy to run into you by chance on the street? Obviously not!
She had felt relieved earlier, thinking the letter summoning her by 2 p.m. tomorrow meant he’d found the sketchbook.
While she was still silently grumbling, the curtain and glass window slid open, revealing a familiar face.
“Get in.”
She hadn’t agreed, but the coachman opened the door anyway. Caught off guard, she looked up again.
“Good evening, Your Highness.”
Gathering her skirts, she gave a polite curtsy. Despite her plain dress, her manner was surprisingly ladylike, and Franz accepted the greeting.
“Mm. Evening.”
“I was on my way home, heading for the carriage stand.”
“I’ll take you.”
“…Why?”
It was pure curiosity.
“…Why?”
His low voice made her flinch. She had really only asked out of curiosity, but the prince looked at her as if to say Did you just question me? Do you have a death wish?
“I hope you’ll take it as innocent curiosity, Your Highness.”
She smiled politely, masking her nerves.
“Hmph. Does a good deed need a reason?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll just take the public carriage—”
“Tom.”
Franz cut her off and called to the coachman.
“Please get in, miss.”
“….”
Eyla resisted, but the heavy silence made it impossible to refuse. She had no choice but to climb in—an uncomfortable kindness if there ever was one.
The moment she stepped inside, her face fell. The carriage had only two seats, which meant she’d have to sit right next to the prince.
Seeing her hesitate, Franz shifted over.
That’s not the problem… can I just get out?
But the coachman, oblivious to her thoughts, shut the door.
“Sit.”
“I think I’d better just—”
“You’re not even wearing a pannier. What, are you nervous sitting next to me?”
Eyla disliked panniers—the hoop skirts women wore to puff out their dresses. She preferred a lighter petticoat. But after this, maybe she’d start wearing the cumbersome thing.
“….”
“Just take it as an honor and sit down.”
“…Alright.”
Drawing out her answer, she finally sat, and the carriage began to move.
“You really didn’t have to take me. Strange thing to be stubborn about.”
Her reluctance was plain. Franz looked at her dissatisfied face and fell into thought.
Why am I even doing something I’ve never done before? She’s not even grateful—she’s acting like it’s a nuisance.
Even when his mother encouraged him, he had never given a ride to any woman. He never did anything he didn’t feel like doing, and this time no one had even asked him.
There’s no real reason… Just a whim?
A cynical thought followed—that he was simply meddling where he shouldn’t. Whether his heart was in it or not, as he’d just said, a good deed didn’t need a reason.
If there was a reason for this uncharacteristic behavior, it was sitting right in front of him.
Her complexion—already pale—was almost bloodless. Her lips were dry and peeling, and what really caught his attention were her hands: marked here and there with welts, as if from a cane.
