Chapter 43
“Roze, aren’t you coming with us?”
Plita, holding Heivan’s hand, had toddled a few steps forward before stopping to turn and look back at Roze. She had been watching them with a warm smile, but now flailed her hands in surprise.
“Oh, no, I—”
She had no intention of interrupting their walk together. As Roze hurriedly declined, the man with blue eyes who had been watching her spoke first.
“Join us for a walk.”
“…Excuse me?”
“I think that’s a good idea, Miss Roze. What are you waiting for? His Highness and the young lady are waiting.”
Roze blinked in flustered confusion as Fedwin quickly approached to agree.
“Ah, um…”
Before she knew it, Roze had been gently ushered toward the father and daughter. Plita immediately reached out to her, and Roze reflexively took the small hand.
“Hehe!”
Plita grinned and bounced excitedly, holding Heivan’s and Roze’s hands in each of hers. But in contrast, Roze’s steps were stiff and awkward.
She had never imagined this—walking hand-in-hand with them like this.
…As if they were a happy family.
Her chest swelled uncontrollably. Roze couldn’t feel where she was going. She had no time to notice the scenery around her. Her entire focus was on the small hand she held and the sound of Heivan’s footsteps as they walked with the child between them.
“Oh? A bunny!”
Suddenly, Plita cried out. A brown rabbit darted across the path a few steps ahead. Plita immediately let go of their hands and ran toward it. She had recently taken a liking to a picture book with a rabbit protagonist, which had clearly captured her interest.
“Princess!”
Roze was startled and made to chase after Plita, but Heivan gently stopped her.
“Let her be. It doesn’t seem dangerous.”
“But…”
Roze bit her lip, hesitating. Though she remained in place because he had stopped her, her eyes never left the child—ready to spring into action at any sign of danger.
Heivan watched her with a curious expression. The sight of a woman who seemed to care for the child even more than he did as her father stirred something warm in his chest. Especially because he knew it wasn’t a facade meant to impress him.
With a slight chuckle, he teased her.
“What, do I seem like such an incompetent father that I can’t even look after my own child?”
“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant—”
Startled, Roze shook her head quickly. Only when she saw the smile tugging at his lips did she realize he was joking.
“Ah…”
Her green eyes widened. At that very moment, a gust of wind suddenly blew, lifting her skirt.
“Ah!”
She hastily grabbed it, her face flushing bright red.
“Ahem.”
She heard Heivan clear his throat. Holding her skirt until the wind settled, Roze looked up instinctively—just in time to see him turn his gaze away.
…And the nape of his neck, just slightly, tinged with red.
For a moment, she became painfully aware that they were alone together. Of course, they weren’t truly alone. Dozens of attendants had accompanied them, stationed at a distance. And Plita was still a few steps away, playing with the rabbit.
But still, Heivan’s presence felt overwhelmingly close. Roze hastily turned her body, folding her hands awkwardly in front of her. It looked stiff and unnatural—but she couldn’t help it.
Heivan, too, had turned away in much the same fashion.
And yet, despite the slight turn of their bodies, neither tried to step away nor leave.
Then, as the rabbit hopped away into the bushes, Plita pouted at the unceremonious farewell. But she soon shrugged off her disappointment, stood up, and looked toward the two people she loved most in the world.
“Ah!”
Plita lit up and ran to them. But when she reached them, she tilted her head curiously.
“What is it, Plita?”
Trying to lighten the awkward air, Heivan asked. Plita tilted her head again and looked up at him, then asked instead of answering.
“Daddy, did you and Roze fight?”
“What?”
“Eh?”
Both Heivan and Roze blinked in confusion at the sudden question.
“You’re both looking in opposite directions, and your faces are really red. Isn’t that what happens when you’re mad? My nanny’s face goes like that when she’s angry.”
Plita’s face twisted in worry, unsure if she’d said something wrong. Heivan and Roze looked at each other instinctively—then quickly looked away again. But they still remembered to explain to the child.
“That’s not it.”
“No, Princess.”
“Then why are your faces red?”
Plita turned her curious eyes to Roze. Roze met them with an awkward expression.
“Well, it’s just…”
But what could she say? She fumbled for an answer, then glanced at Heivan helplessly—as if begging him to speak for her.
Unable to ignore her plea, Heivan frowned slightly and opened his mouth to speak, hoping to distract the child. Just then, Fedwin appeared.
“Your Highness, the preparations to depart are complete. Shall we go?”
Perfect timing. Heivan quickly nodded.
“Let’s depart right away. Come along now, Plita.”
Seizing the moment, he changed the subject. Plita, still holding Roze’s hand, followed Heivan toward the carriage.
Heivan didn’t board first. He waited for them, lifted the child into the carriage, then turned to Roze and offered his hand again.
“…”
Roze’s face turned red once more. But this time, she placed her hand in his without hesitation.
Heivan’s lips curled ever so slightly. Still, he made no remark, simply helping her into the carriage before sitting across from her.
The door shut. Outside, Fedwin’s voice announced their departure. The carriage swayed slightly, then began to move.
…For some reason, the rhythm of the hooves matched the quickened beat of Roze’s heart.
“Welcome, Your Grace. It’s an honor to have you here.”
Greeting Heivan’s party was Count Burel, the lord of Middlepion and one of the Duke’s retainers.
“It’s been a while, Count.”
Heivan shook his hand and spoke in a low voice. Count Burel bowed repeatedly, then turned to look at Plita standing beside him.
“Oh ho! So this is the young lady! So lovely and charming, isn’t she? Don’t you agree, dear?”
“She truly is. Hello, Princess.”
The Countess stepped forward and gave a slight curtsey to Plita.
But instead of reacting with joy, Plita looked terrified and hid behind Roze’s skirt. The mood faltered.
“Ah…”
The Countess’s smile froze awkwardly. Seeing this, Count Burel clapped his hands and changed the subject hastily.
“Ah, of course, I must be tiring you out, keeping Your Grace and the young lady standing here. Jayden! Show them to their rooms.”
A butler bowed politely and approached. Heivan followed him into the manor, but Plita clung to Roze’s skirt, refusing to budge.
“Princess.”
“…Mhm.”
Even when Roze gently called, Plita didn’t move easily. From the line of servants, quiet murmurs began to stir.
Heivan, who had just reached the grand hall on the first floor, stopped and turned back.
“Plita.”
His voice was calm—not scolding. Just a simple call.
But hearing it, Plita drew a deep breath and slowly took a step. Roze followed her quickly. Heivan, seeing that she was following, turned again and resumed walking.
“This way to the Princess’s room.”
Just as Plita was about to follow her father, a middle-aged woman—likely the head maid—approached. The girl flinched and turned to Roze, who gave her a reassuring smile and nod. Only then did Plita follow the head maid.
The room was located on the western second floor. Roze carried Plita’s luggage into the room. Plita had been standing in the middle, but quickly ran to Roze the moment she entered.
“…Would you like a bath first? Or perhaps something light to eat?”
