BVS CH 34

Chapter 34

Why am I the only one worried about Erica coming home injured?

I sighed, then sat her down on the hall sofa and asked again.

“Tell me slowly what happened. I need to know the situation.”

“Well, I was running with Aaron and tripped over a stone.”

“Oh my—was Aaron alright?”

“Mm, he’s definitely athletic. He caught me quickly. If not for that, I might have been badly hurt.”

The way Erica pressed her hands to her cheeks as she spoke made me narrow my eyes suspiciously.

“Well, at least it wasn’t serious.”

“Don’t say that. It’s going to leave a scar.”

Even as I said it, I imagined all those drama characters who fuss over their children too much.

Erica wasn’t my child, but…

‘I can’t help worrying.’

She’d gone out, gotten hurt, then came home smiling about her “glorious injury.”

Martin must have noticed my worried face, because he gently wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

I flinched for a moment, but then he said softly:

“Don’t make your sister-in-law worry so much.”

“I’m sorry, Sister-in-law.”

Hearing both of them speak sincerely calmed my frustration.

“No, I was the one worrying too much.”

After all, people can get injured sometimes.

Erica stuck her tongue out playfully, then smiled. Suddenly, she pressed her index fingers together, as if nervous.

“So… after the luncheon with the prince…”

“…?”

“I want to invite my friend over too. Is that okay?”

Martin and I looked at each other.

“She’s asking you,” Martin said, after reading Erica’s eyes.

Erica swallowed nervously.

An “invitation,” huh? I remembered something.

The day Erica went to meet the child she wanted to sponsor—Aaron’s little sister.

[I want to bring her to our house too. But… only if Sister-in-law allows it.]
[Because you’re the lady of this house, Sister-in-law.]

How could I forget that moment?

Her gemlike eyes had sparkled as she said it, imagining bringing her friend home.

And what did I reply back then?

[Then I’ll make her some delicious cookies.]

Yes, I had promised cookies.

Finishing my thoughts, I stroked Erica’s head and said:

“Then Sister-in-law will prepare some delicious cookies. Does that answer your question?”

“…!”

“Because it’s your friend, after all.”

Erica’s eyes trembled for a moment.

I stopped stroking her hair and asked,

“What was that look just now?”

“I was just… grateful.”

“Your friend is an honored guest. He even helped save you today.”

“Friend…”

I had casually called Aaron “friend” since I couldn’t think of another word, but it seemed Erica liked it a lot.

Martin’s relaxed smile drifted toward both of us.

“Sister-in-law, you’re the best! Ah—but I need to hurry!”

Without even asking her brother, Erica rushed upstairs, her humming echoing from the second floor all the way down.

“She must be writing the invitation letter,” Martin said.

“Looks like it,” I replied, chuckling.

We both laughed as we imagined her happily writing.

‘She must really like him.’

Back then, I thought it was just simple friendship.

* * *

The long-awaited luncheon with Prince Oscar arrived before I knew it.

Following my instructions, Chef Baba had carefully prepared the special dish: tomato chicken stew.

Erica, surprisingly, was dressed calmly instead of running about nervously.

“The prince has arrived.”

Martin adjusted his clothes and cleared his throat, as if trying to look proper.

At the entrance, Prince Oscar appeared, shining brightly as he walked in.

Martin, unfazed by that dazzling aura, welcomed him naturally.

“Thank you for coming all this way.”

“Not at all. Thanks to Duke Cloud’s arrangements, my trip was very comfortable.”

As expected of the male lead, even his words flow smoothly.

Last time at the palace, he’d been teary-eyed and pitiful, but now he looked calm and confident.

More than that, though, I noticed—

Martin was keeping his eyes fixed only on Oscar.

Behind Oscar stood the ever-stiff Sir Stuart, watching us coldly.

Ugh. That unpleasant man really followed him here.

Even Butler Babel looked uncomfortable, as if he’d read my thoughts.

Well, Stuart was Oscar’s shadow, so his presence was unavoidable. But still—it made me uneasy.

He’d already pressed me once before, asking if I had told Martin about Oscar’s private matters.

“This way, please.”

Martin skillfully led Prince Oscar into the guest room. Soon, the delicious smell of food filled the mansion.

Thankfully—or not—Sir Stuart didn’t join the luncheon. He refused despite several invitations.

“That family portrait in the hall caught my eye earlier,” Oscar said once seated.

Martin smiled in satisfaction.

The idea had been mine, but Martin had been the one to see it through.

For a brief moment, Oscar’s face grew somber at the thought, but when his gaze met Erica’s, he smiled like a crescent moon.

My, my. That’s cheating. Who could resist that smile?

No wonder Erica liked him.

And sure enough, when I turned, Martin was watching me with an amused smile.

Then he turned back to Oscar.

“How is the food?”

“The texture is very soft overall. Especially this tomato stew—it’s delicious.”

Just as I’d expected, he liked it.

I knew it!

Oscar wiped his mouth, then spoke gently to Erica.

“Ah, I once saw Lady Erica doing something wonderful.”

“…Me?”

Erica’s eyes widened.

“Yes. You were donating clothes to a mother and daughter. It was very impressive.”

So that mysterious gaze watching us back then—it had really been Oscar, or someone he’d sent.

That explained why no rumors had spread.

At least Oscar had seen it with his own eyes, leaving him with a good impression of Erica.

That was enough.

“Th-thank you…” Erica stammered.

“Lady Erica?”

“Yes?” she squeaked, startled.

Oscar’s eyes were fixed on her plate.

She had been nervously cutting her steak into tiny pieces over and over, looking awkward.

It wasn’t like her at all—but maybe she was flustered by Oscar’s attention.

Oscar chuckled softly, clearly finding her endearing.

Perfect.

At this rate, those two could start dating any day now.

While I was feeling triumphant, Martin shifted the subject.

“I hope our views on succession training did not trouble you, Your Highness?”

That turned Oscar’s attention back to him.

I also leaned in slightly—curious to hear Oscar’s true feelings about the throne.

Oscar pondered, then spoke.

“Many say I lack the qualities to be an heir. I agree with them…”

He glanced at me, then sipped his drink with a heavy expression.

Is that really how he feels?

At King Leonard’s sickbed, Oscar had said so firmly:

[I believe it’s wrong to discuss succession without the person involved, Father.]

Back then, I had glimpsed some hope.

But maybe, after we left, he got swept away by others’ opinions again.

He continued quietly,

“But… as you saw that day… my father’s condition isn’t good.”

That was meaningful.

It hinted—just slightly—that he wanted the education after all.

Yes, when we’d last left the palace, King Leonard had collapsed. Oscar had quickly set up today’s luncheon afterward.

“Is His Majesty alright? I should have asked first,” Martin said.

“Yes, he is fine—for now.”

For now, yes. But in the original novel, King Leonard would die before the story even truly began.

Judging by his coughing blood, that time was near.

Still, Martin didn’t ask further about the king. He only fell into deep thought.

As the meal drew to an end, the silence was suddenly broken by Erica’s clear voice.

“How about a walk in the garden?”

She nudged her brother’s side for support.

She was right—a walk would help her and Oscar grow closer.

“I think so too,” I added. “You’ll love the garden.”

Oscar answered with a bright smile.

“Then, if you’ll excuse me for a moment!”

Erica darted to the kitchen, whispered something to Chef Baba, then returned carrying a small handbag.

Oscar stood, offering his hand politely.

“Lady Erica, may I escort you?”

“Ah—yes!”

The two exchanged farewells with us, then walked out together slowly.

I watched them fondly.

So sweet. Like spring itself.

Propping my chin in my hand, I couldn’t help but smile.

Martin leaned close.

“You’re enjoying this a lot, aren’t you?”

Caught, I felt embarrassed—but also curious about his thoughts.

Looking at the prince—perhaps his future brother-in-law—I grinned.

“So? What do you think of him as her boyfriend?”