Chapter 45
“Will you be alright on your own?”
The marquis’s gaze turned toward me. There seemed to be a flicker of concern in his blue eyes. He probably worried that I would have to attend the hunting competition alone for the first time.
I was startled by the marquis’s unexpected consideration. I hadn’t realized he could be so thoughtful. Something tingled deep in my chest, and a smile unconsciously spread across my face.
“I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry.”
Contrary to what he thought, this wasn’t my first hunting competition. I had attended every year, both when I was the Crown Princess and later as Empress.
The hunting grounds were in a rather high and rugged mountain region. Since it was directly administered by the emperor, access was restricted, and the forest was dense and full of animals. Some of them were dangerous predators.
This year’s hunting competition was more of a recreational event than a serious hunt. Bringing noblewomen into such a dangerous forest meant that safety measures were carefully arranged.
The hunting areas were mostly limited. Most nobles attended more for leisure and socializing than for hunting. To accommodate them, beaters drove the game into designated spots where hunting was easy. Except for a few spirited young men, the hunters rarely strayed from these safer zones.
Especially near the resting area for noblewomen, knights had cleared any dangerous animals days before the event. They remained on guard until the competition ended, ensuring the ladies could enjoy the hunt as a light amusement.
Even after I reassured him, the marquis didn’t move easily. One by one, the carriages began to roll, yet he only glanced toward the emperor’s location, showing no intention of leaving.
“May I accompany you, my lady?”
Just as I was about to reassure him again, a woman’s voice reached us. Both the marquis and I turned toward it. There stood a middle-aged noblewoman, smiling warmly at us.
“It’s been a while, Marquis Elient.”
Upon seeing her, the marquis bowed lightly.
“Indeed, it has been some time, Countess Saint.”
“Pleased to meet you, Countess Saint.”
I followed the marquis and bowed toward her. She returned my gesture with a gentle smile.
“This is our first meeting face-to-face, isn’t it? Call me by my name instead of formal titles.”
“It’s an honor, Isabella. Please call me Bionne.”
“Of course, Bionne.”
Isabella—once the First Princess of the Empire—was the emperor’s eldest daughter. When imperial daughters married, they left the royal registry and followed their husband’s status, thus exiting the royal family upon marriage.
Her husband, Count Saint, held lands in the southern border region and commanded considerable military strength. Though he supported the Crown Prince faction, his territory was far from the capital. Isabella and her husband rarely visited the capital—no more than a handful of times a year.
The first time I met Isabella was on my coming-of-age day, which also coincided with my wedding to the Crown Prince. Unlike then, she could not attend my current coming-of-age ceremony due to the suddenness of the event and lack of time to travel to the capital.
Two days after the ceremony, a letter and a gift arrived from her. The letter expressed regret for missing the event and an apology, along with a handwoven shawl. The lemon-colored shawl was not extravagant but wide and thick, practical for many uses—a thoughtful and practical gift from a noblewoman. I sent my thanks along with a tea made from Reisha flowers.
A few days later, another letter came from her, expressing her hope to meet me in person. Though the hunting competition was one of the major events of the empire, it was mostly recreational. There was no strict need for her to travel all the way from the southern border to attend.
In fact, nobles with territories along the borders rarely attended. Those who did were usually based in or near the capital.
“Were you surprised to see me here?”
“A little, yes.”
“Hehe, didn’t you say you were looking forward to seeing Bionne in person?”
She laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. Despite the fine lines around her eyes, her smile was fresh, almost girl-like.
Isabella had been the only one to scold me in the past. She had wanted me, as a senior, to show tolerance and virtue.
The Crown Prince had lost his mother, the empress, shortly after birth. Isabella, then the First Princess, raised him as if he were her own child. The age difference between them was twenty-two years. She did so until her marriage to Count Saint.
It was natural that she would offer advice to me, the Crown Princess. Yet at the time, I dismissed her actions as overstepping and even insulted her for interfering in matters that I felt were not her concern.
Looking back, I think that was when the Crown Prince began to withdraw his affection and treat me only with courtesy.
“May I accompany you? I think the marquis would feel more at ease if you weren’t alone.”
Her eyes sparkled as she asked. Unlike her initial gentle impression, she exuded a lively, youthful energy. The marquis glanced at me, as if seeking my consent.
“I’m fine.”
I nodded, and Isabella clapped her hands joyfully.
“There’s no time to waste. Shall we board the carriage?”
At her gesture, the waiting servants approached. With their help, she boarded the carriage. I reached to call a servant for myself when the marquis cleared his throat beside me. Turning, I saw him extending his hand.
As I looked at his hand, the throat-clearing grew louder, and his ears seemed slightly red. I took his hand, feeling warm reassurance through his palm.
He helped me into the carriage, gripping my hand firmly for a moment before releasing it—not painfully, but with noticeable strength.
“Let’s see how things go once we arrive.”
After I sat, he personally closed the carriage door. I blinked in surprise at his unexpectedly proactive behavior.
“Oh my! I never imagined the iron-fisted marquis could be so considerate.”
Isabella laughed heartily. The carriage began to move—it had been provided by the imperial household for my comfort. It was spacious and comfortable enough for both of us.
“I’ve truly wanted to see you, Bionne.”
“It is I who am honored to meet you.”
“Oh, that stiff formality makes things distant. I dislike it.”
She smiled at me, a smile reminiscent of the mischievous Crown Prince.
“Do you love the Crown Prince?”
Her sudden question almost made me choke. She seemed to have anticipated my reaction.
“Did I ask too directly?”
“I didn’t expect such a question.”
“Even if I seem impudent, understand me. He is like a son to me.”
The warmth in Isabella’s eyes revealed just how deeply she cared for the Crown Prince.
“My mother died giving birth to me. Did you know that?”
“Yes, I know.”
The First Princess’s mother had been the emperor’s lawful consort but tragically died during childbirth. Though Isabella was the emperor’s legitimate daughter, she could not be a princess born of an empress.
“Afterward, Empress Lyra took me in.”
Empress Lyra, the late empress and mother of the Crown Prince, had raised Isabella. I hadn’t known this before, but it explained why she had raised the young Crown Prince without having married.
“After Empress Lyra passed, I looked upon the young Crown Prince alone and thought: I will repay her grace through him.”
She smiled again, a light, cheerful smile, free from any shadow despite the bitter undertones of her story.
“You know I delayed marriage, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know.”
Ordinary women, regardless of rank, typically married by age twenty-five. Not marrying beyond that age was considered a defect.
Isabella remained unmarried until she was thirty. Some nobles had even petitioned the emperor to arrange her marriage.
Though not officially recorded in the imperial registry, she was still the emperor’s legitimate daughter. For a legitimate daughter to remain unmarried at thirty was almost a disgrace, so it was natural for nobles to intervene.
Surprisingly, the emperor had never officially mentioned her marriage, even as she neared thirty—a stark contrast to other daughters of concubines who were married off before turning twenty.
“Honestly, I never intended to marry. My father always apologized to me, and I knew how to use that.”
She grinned mischievously, showing a dimple on her cheek—a fittingly cute feature for her youthful demeanor.
“Even if he hadn’t begged to marry me, I wouldn’t have left the Crown Prince’s side.”
A faint blush colored her cheeks. Count Saint’s proposal to Isabella remained a topic of conversation even ten years later.
