Chapter 15
Franz sighed as he looked at the knights filling the stands and the royal guests seated in the VIP section—Queen Elizabeth, Aunt Sylvia, Crown Princess Diane, and the noble ladies.
“Isn’t it more fun when there’s a big crowd?”
Franz wasn’t particularly fond of sweating through strenuous exercise, so this sudden polo match didn’t exactly thrill him. Still, it had been a while since he had the chance to stretch his body properly, and he felt a tingle of anticipation.
“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re my brother.”
Franz mounted the saddle with a practiced, agile movement.
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”
Knights in uniform lined up across the field. Among them, Franz and Frederick stood out the most.
Cheers erupted from the stands, followed by enthusiastic applause. Most spectators were eager to see which side would claim victory in this thrilling match.
“Please take care of me, Sir Adolf.”
Before the game began, Franz greeted Adolf, the captain of the royal guard. Adolf replied with a modest smile.
“It’s an honor for me, Your Highness.”
Franz had long acknowledged Adolf’s skills, having seen him train alongside Frederick since childhood in both swordsmanship and marksmanship. Adolf’s sword skills were so exceptional they rivaled even the commander of the First Knights.
“Let’s do our best! May the best man win.”
As Frederick finished speaking, the whistle blew, and the match began.
No one doubted victory would favor them, but the two teams were evenly matched.
The score remained neck-and-neck throughout, neither side gaining much of a lead. But just before the final whistle, Franz landed a decisive strike, securing a 14–13 victory for the King’s Guard.
Adolf’s tactical command and fast-paced offense pushed deep into enemy territory. When he passed the ball, Franz connected it into a perfect goal—earning him the role of hero as the stands erupted in applause and cheers.
“Well played!”
“Well played!”
Knights from both teams exchanged handshakes, promising another exciting match in the future.
Frederick, looking pleased, gave Franz a hearty pat on the shoulder and laughed.
“I thought it’d go into overtime, but you really turned it around.”
“Unlike you, I didn’t plan for extra time.”
Breaking into a sweat from this rare bit of exercise left Franz feeling unexpectedly refreshed.
“Thanks to you, I got a proper workout.”
“Let’s do this more often.”
Franz didn’t miss the implication and teased his brother playfully.
“That sounded childish for a crown prince.”
“What? Ha-ha!”
Frederick burst out laughing, and Franz laughed along. The two brothers shared smiles brighter than the morning sun.
Breakfast passed in the same warm, cheerful atmosphere.
“I heard from Sir Adolf. Even when you play against me, you never hold back—and now I hear you beat Frederick? That deserves praise.”
“You should’ve seen it yourself,” said the queen. “It was so intense today I was on the edge of my seat.”
“Both Frederick and Franz were incredible,” Sylvia added with a nod and a smile.
“I just joined a well-prepared team,” Franz replied humbly. “Everyone else was amazing—they never seemed to tire, and I struggled to hide how exhausted I was. If it had gone to overtime, I probably would’ve lost.”
As he spoke, Franz shook his head, recalling Frederick’s boundless stamina.
Though he downplayed his efforts, everyone knew Franz was in no way inferior.
After breakfast, Franz left the palace.
Aunt Sylvia had invited him to an afternoon tea party, but he couldn’t imagine enduring a gathering of noblewomen with his sanity intact.
She didn’t press for an excuse—she understood him without question, as always.
“Shall we go to Grenville, Your Highness?”
“No. Let’s stop by the jeweler.”
“If you need something, we can summon them to the palace.”
“No, this is a gift for Aunt Sylvia. I want to choose it myself.”
Every year, whenever Aunt Sylvia visited, Franz made a point of picking out a gift personally.
“Understood.”
Hans informed the coachman of their destination and boarded the carriage.
They headed for Covent Garden, a bustling shopping district in southern Vilne, the capital.
Covent Garden was home to several specialty streets: Vanessa, the fashion avenue; Lapora, lined with jewelers and luxury boutiques; Mariage, famous for gourmet groceries; Manches, an art street said to gather the finest merchants and painters in Lapland; and Dandelion, the floral market street.
The carriage stopped in front of a shop marked with a sign reading Blancmer, accompanied by an elegant jewel motif.
Blancmer specialized in rare and costly gemstones and was renowned among the nobility—especially the ladies—for its exquisite craftsmanship.
The owner, Gabriel, was also a royal jewelry artisan. His creations cost more than entire buildings, affordable only to the wealthiest of aristocrats.
The moment the royal carriage, bearing the family crest, stopped outside, the usually haughty Gabriel hurried out to greet Franz with utmost respect.
“Welcome, Your Highness.”
“It’s been a while, Gabriel.”
Franz returned his bow with ease.
“Please, come inside.”
Gabriel also bowed deeply to Hans. The two followed him into the store.
The interior exuded luxury, with glittering jewels neatly displayed in glass cases.
“Is there something specific you’re looking for?”
“I’d like to see a brooch that would suit my aunt.”
Most high-value pieces weren’t out on display—gold bars and precious stones were secured in a separate vault.
“I’ll bring out our finest selection. Please wait a moment.”
Gabriel stepped behind the counter and opened the vault.
Soon, he returned with three dazzling brooches, each sparkling with brilliance.
“What do you think? These are among the best in our collection. This one, in particular, is a masterpiece I poured my heart into. If I’m not mistaken, this is around the time Your Highness usually gifts the Countess of Winston, yes?”
“I’ll take this one.”
Without hesitation, Franz chose a stunning opal brooch. The opal shimmered with a spectrum of colors, encircled by tiny diamonds, creating an effect both mysterious and magnificent.
“As expected, Your Highness has an exceptional eye. I’ll have it packaged at once.”
Gabriel handed the brooch to an attendant, who then escorted Franz and Hans to the lounge.
Franz sat on a sofa and sipped the welcome drink—fruit punch with plenty of ice, chilled to perfection, just the way he liked it.
Having been a loyal Blancmer patron for years, Franz was treated as a VIP. Gabriel even showcased new pieces to him before the royal family. The staff remembered his preferences, down to his favorite drinks.
Impressed by their service, Franz pulled out a 100-dena note from his ticket pocket and handed it to the attendant. He always tipped generously and carried a separate stash just for this purpose.
“Thank you very much!”
The attendant bowed deeply before leaving.
Franz lifted his glass again, glancing out the window.
And then he saw her—a familiar face in the busy street.
Huh?
It was Iella Clarence.
Franz narrowed his eyes. She wore a loose, ill-fitting gray dress that barely matched her frame. The hem was awkwardly short, leaving her ankles exposed in an almost comical way.
Franz frowned slightly. Where on earth did she even find such dresses?
Every time, it’s something new. Should I even call that a dress? Looks like something a commoner would wear.
Was the Clarence family poorer than he thought, or was Iella just… eccentric? He couldn’t figure it out.
He had believed, at least after the past week, that he understood her old-fashioned taste—apparently, he was wrong.
“She really is full of surprises.”
“Pardon?” Hans tilted his head.
“That woman.”
“…Who do you mean, Your Highness?”
Hans followed his gaze, scanning the street. But with so many people passing by, he couldn’t spot anyone unusual.
While Hans searched, Franz’s eyes stayed fixed on Iella. She was laughing brightly at something her maid said—a pure, unguarded laugh that made Franz’s jaw tighten.
Out of all the people he’d ever met, she was perhaps the only one who looked so simply happy. Franz, entirely unprepared for such genuine warmth, could only frown harder.
Before he knew it, she had disappeared down the street. He didn’t think for long.
Franz rose abruptly, leaving Hans no time to react, and strode outside.
“Uh—Your Highness! Where are you going?!”
“….”
“Please, you must return before the dinner banquet!”
Hans called out in panic, but Franz didn’t answer. Only the cheerful jingle of the doorbell marked his departure.
