Chapter 19
Was my father truly someone uninterested in power? If so, then how could my arranged marriage partner be the Crown Prince?
“But Theo’s bride is said to be a commoner?”
Was it perhaps one of those dramatic, star-crossed loves—like Romeo and Juliet—where Theo and Estelle fell for each other at first sight? Did Theo threaten to die if he couldn’t marry her?
Not at all. The two had been childhood friends for years and had naturally grown fond of each other.
Of course, their affection was genuine, but it still felt like something arranged by the adults from the start.
“Even for a novel, that’s a stretch.”
But there was no benefit in bringing it up now. Whatever Father was thinking, it might not even be a big deal…
I watched his back as he walked away. When he finally disappeared from sight, I took Estelle’s hand and led her into the parlor.
As expected, Theo came straight there after his training, barely towel-dried—his wet hair dripping everywhere.
“Don’t sit too close to me. You’re dripping. It’s gross.”
Theo grumbled but sat a little farther away.
“Did you two have fun?”
“Of course.”
Estelle smiled shyly at my reply.
Theo rested his chin on his hand, watching us play cards. His gaze lingered on Estelle’s blue puff-sleeved dress.
“Estelle, what’s with that dress?”
“Oh, I gave it to her as a gift,” I said.
“Really?”
Theo’s eyes widened. Estelle answered in an awkward tone,
“Mm-hmm. And… she told me to sleep over tonight.”
“Seriously?”
Even as he said that, a grin bloomed across Theo’s face.
I set my cards down. “Why, is that surprising?”
“A little?”
As Theo and I bickered, Estelle suddenly asked something unexpected.
“Theo, do you have any scars?”
“Scars?”
Theo tilted his head. “Of course I do. It’s normal to get hurt during training. Why?”
“I didn’t know, but apparently I have one.”
“Where?”
“On my back.”
Estelle fiddled with her cards, bending one corner slightly.
“No one ever told me, so I only found out recently.”
“Well, everyone gets at least one scar while living.”
Theo replied casually and drew seven cards from the center of the table.
“I didn’t say you could join the game.”
“As the heir of the family, I’m claiming the right to join.”
“Then as the future Crown Princess, I’ll ignore you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
While we bantered, Estelle—who had been quietly looking down—spoke again.
“Really?”
“Uh… yeah? If you want to join, shuffle the deck again. You can’t just jump in halfway.”
Was that directed at me? I hesitated awkwardly, but Estelle blinked, then placed her cards down.
“Theo, where’s your scar?”
So that was what had been on her mind. Theo, gathering the cards, lifted his arm.
“See here?”
Estelle leaned in to look and nodded.
“Yeah.”
“It’s from blisters that kept forming and bursting.”
“It’s small…”
“Not all scars come from big wounds.”
Estelle stared at his scar for a long while, then suddenly turned to me.
“Sis, do you know how I got mine?”
“Yours? It was about this big. Looked like it came from a scratch.”
I gestured with my fingers to show the size. Estelle asked quietly,
“Why do you think I got it?”
She’d said before she had no memory of anything before the orphanage.
“I’m not sure…”
“Do you think the people who gave birth to me knew about it?”
Ah, so that’s what she wanted to know. Theo and I fell silent. No matter how much we thought about it, there wasn’t an answer we could give.
Estelle murmured, almost apologetically, “Sorry.”
When she was younger, she used to talk about things like that often. I thought she’d moved past it by now…
Theo began shuffling the deck again.
“If you want, I can ask Father to look into it.”
Estelle startled and waved her hands.
“No, it’s not that important!”
“It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry—if you’re curious, just say so.”
“Um…”
Her brow furrowed in deep thought. Seeing that troubled face, I ended up siding with Theo.
“He’s right. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
Maybe Father already knew something. That nagging curiosity I’d pushed down started to rise again. Estelle finally nodded.
“Then… could you ask for me?”
“Sure. I’ll talk to Father.”
I nodded and took the cards Theo dealt me.
“What did Father say?”
“He’ll look into it.”
After Estelle went to the guest room, Theo and I stayed behind in the corridor.
“Do you think he’ll find anything?”
Theo shrugged. “We’ll see.”
I hoped it wouldn’t become an issue. After seeing Theo off, I returned to my room.
Opening the diary, I flipped to the back pages.
Still blank.
Would it remain empty forever? Had Rosalyn stopped writing after that point?
Judging by the short intervals between previous entries, she must have been quite diligent.
Now that I knew the diary was real, its silence frustrated me even more.
I shook it upside down, but nothing else was hidden inside. Sighing, I set it back on my desk.
What should I do?
The only way to figure out what Damian was plotting was to stay as close to him as possible.
“At least he seems to trust me a little now.”
He’d told me things he wouldn’t say to the Emperor himself.
Still, perhaps the Emperor was the bigger danger.
If Damian was unpredictable, then the Emperor was downright thoughtless.
He’d even gained his throne by killing his own younger brother, the rightful heir.
“In that case, maybe Damian is the lesser evil…”
No, I shook my head. That didn’t mean I could allow Damian to assassinate the Emperor and Empress.
I crawled into bed.
Still, maybe… maybe there was hope.
If I told Father about Damian’s elite unit, perhaps he’d side with Damian, too.
Then, even if Damian truly decided to kill the Emperor—
as long as I could save Father…
The blanket was soft and warm, thanks to the maid who’d lit the fireplace beforehand.
As I curled up, a yawn slipped out.
I just hoped Damian wouldn’t suddenly summon me tomorrow.
After seeing Estelle off, I stopped by the bakery on the way back. I pulled my hooded robe low over my face again.
The shop was quiet, with no other customers. The owner leaned on the counter, watching passersby choose bread.
My heart was pounding. The sweet smell of pastries barely registered. I hurried to the counter.
Before I could even speak, the owner asked,
“Looking for something in particular, miss?”
“Oh—no, not something, but someone…”
My awkward reply made his eyes narrow. His tone hardened.
“We’re not an information guild.”
How should I explain this? I frowned.
“No, not like that… Do you know someone named Mikhail?”
He looked puzzled.
“Mikhail?”
The moment he spoke, I realized I’d made a mistake. Sure enough, he continued,
“Sorry, that’s a common name. Is he connected to our bakery somehow?”
“Uh… I think he’s a regular customer here.”
“Well, I don’t usually ask for our customers’ names. Maybe describe him instead?”
But brown hair was too common!
My overconfidence in how smoothly things had gone so far was coming back to bite me.
Still, I couldn’t give up now.
Blushing, I gestured awkwardly as I described him.
“He has curly brown hair, light green eyes, and he’s quite tall—”
The owner suddenly interrupted, pointing behind me.
“Is that him?”
I turned around. Through the glass window, I saw Mikhail walking down the street.
“Yes, that’s him! Thank you!”
I gave a quick bow of thanks and dashed outside, running after him.
“Mikhail!”
He turned at my call, eyes widening in surprise as he recognized me.
“Baroness?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
I wasn’t even running that hard, but I was already out of breath. Catching it, I stopped in front of him.
