~Chapter 84~
The mere meeting of Ancia’s large, curious green eyes with the Crown Prince’s intrigued crimson gaze was enough to fill Rishar with an inexplicable sense of displeasure.
Cailus’s false smile gradually faded, softening into something genuine as the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly.
“As expected, one can hardly grasp true worth from a mere report.”
Maintaining his picture-perfect smile, Cailus approached at an unhurried pace.
“I hear you were dragged here before even reaching your coming-of-age ceremony? Had I known you were so small and so lovely, I might have sent a message urging them to treat you with greater care.”
Though his voice was tender and melodic, it carried the unmistakable weight of an arrogant sovereign.
On paper, Ancia Lanpheus had been considered the ideal bride to quell the Gwinted Duke’s influence—a noble by title but from a minor family, a woman of no utility who could provide the duke with nothing.
Yet now, as Ancia Gwinted, her value was evident from her very appearance.
Had she traveled to the imperial capital for her coming-of-age ceremony, many would have overlooked her lineage and capabilities entirely, entranced instead by her beauty alone. Most unmarried young noblemen’s hearts would not have survived the sight.
What’s more, she was intelligent. Cailus had watched with interest as the North was besieged by exponentially growing hordes of monsters, only to hear that the duchess had proposed hosting a monster subjugation festival to address the crisis.
The knowledge that this idea had come from the young duchess surprised him greatly. Such an adorably delicate appearance, yet she possessed boldness and initiative—it was most unexpected.
She bore the outward guise of a naïve young woman, yet beneath it, her mind was keen and perceptive. In Cailus’s estimation, her value had risen dramatically.
Not that it mattered. For now, she remained the Duchess of Gwinted.
“A shame, truly.”
Wait. Is the Crown Prince actually flirting with me right now? He can’t possibly like me… No, he must simply lament that I’m already taken.
Cailus’s openly flirtatious manner, complete with his smile and twinkling eyes directed at Ancia, caused Rishar’s presence to bristle with hostility.
A soft tap.
The faint touch of Ancia’s fingers against his hand was enough to calm him, and Rishar’s tightly coiled energy receded. In a voice deliberately even, he addressed Cailus.
“If Your Highness would state the reason for your visit, we shall do our utmost to assist you.”
In other words, state your business and be gone.
Though Rishar silently cursed him with his eyes, he was clinging tightly to his manners.
Ancia rooted for him with all her heart.
When her gaze met the Crown Prince’s, she offered a harmless, delicate smile. Cailus’s golden hair shifted lightly as his crimson eyes narrowed, amused.
“I have long regretted my neglect of the North. I thought I might take the opportunity to examine matters more closely.”
“I shall prepare a report as detailed as Your Highness wishes and have it sent to you.”
“I also find myself curious about this festival I hear is being held in the North. It has been so long since there was a festival in the Gwinted territory that I can hardly recall when the last was held.”
The Crown Prince was openly mentioning the festival, despite having received no formal report. Rishar had no choice but to yield a step.
“In the rush to organize it, we were late in submitting the report. In any case, it is a small, local festival confined to our territory alone.”
“Small, you say? On my way here, I encountered a rather impressive number of mercenaries. One might almost suspect that the Duke of Gwinted harbors… other intentions.”
The one thing the imperial family most feared was spoken aloud in a voice soft as velvet.
This could not be left unanswered. Feigning ignorance, Ancia stepped forward with a sweet, gentle smile.
“Your Highness, the idea for this festival was mine, so please do not misunderstand.”
I know nothing, truly nothing at all. I’m simply a sheltered woman who doesn’t understand the world.
Surely he would understand that her words carried no deliberate intrusion into their conversation, no reckless defiance.
The shy, radiant smile that accompanied her words drew Cailus’s attention entirely.
“I would like to hear that story in greater detail.”
“Of course. Shall we retire to the council chamber?”
Rishar hurriedly tried to divert the Crown Prince’s gaze from Ancia, but it was useless. If anything, his visible unease only piqued Cailus’s curiosity further.
“No. I would prefer to hear it from her directly.”
“I only came up with the idea,” Ancia replied with a soft laugh, lightly tapping Rishar’s arm. “My husband knows everything there is to know.”
The stone-like rigidity of his arm betrayed his tension. Rishar’s entire body was stiff, his ears tinged red, and she wondered why he seemed so uncharacteristically nervous.
When it became clear he would get no answers from Ancia, Cailus deliberately allowed a faint expression of displeasure to cross his features.
“Hm. I am weary from my journey and wish to rest. Or does the Duke not intend to offer lodging to a guest who has traveled such a long way?”
A long way? As if. He stepped through the imperial palace’s gate and sauntered here from the northern gate in barely two hours, yet he dares speak so brazenly.
But there was no way to call him out on it. Masking his irritation behind a facade of composure, Rishar stepped forward to guide him.
“Then allow me to escort you inside.”
“No, no. You must be busy managing the festival. I could hardly treat the Duke of Gwinted like a mere servant.”
At least he has some self-awareness.
When Cailus saw Ancia nod in agreement, he extended a hand toward her instead.
“This is a matter I would entrust to the lady of the house.”
“No,” Rishar interjected swiftly. “My wife’s health is delicate. She is not suited to personally attending to Your Highness.”
Oh? Rishar has a bit of tact after all.
By pointing out her frailty rather than directly rejecting the Crown Prince, he was attempting to remove Ancia from Cailus’s line of sight.
But Cailus, as though expecting the answer, extended his hand toward Ancia once more.
“Ah, so the Duchess is unwell, and my sudden visit has caused her hardship? Then grant me the honor of escorting her to her chambers myself.”
He had addressed them both, leaving no room for refusal.
Before Rishar could respond with cutting words, Ancia tilted her body slightly and raised a hand to her flushed cheek.
“I could not possibly enjoy the glory of Your Highness’s touch so freely. I am already blushing with embarrassment.”
Refusing the hand of a member of the imperial family could be construed as a grave discourtesy, yet when veiled behind the bashfulness of a shy young woman, etiquette demanded that he withdraw with gentlemanly grace.
“How flattering it is to know I’ve made such a beautiful duchess’s heart race,” Cailus replied smoothly, withdrawing his hand.
He then stepped to her side, close enough to unsettle.
“Then let us spend some time together and grow closer. When that day comes, I hope you will not refuse this hand.”
The Crown Prince’s familiarity was bordering on brazen. He was blatantly pursuing Ancia, and Rishar’s discomfort was palpable.
Yet Cailus ignored it entirely, continuing to address Ancia as though Rishar were invisible.
“There is a rare tea, reserved only for the imperial household, that is said to be most restorative. I should like to gift it to you, Duchess. Must I seek the Duke’s permission first?”
“…No, Your Highness. It would be an honor.”
“You appear quite busy, Duke. You should attend to your duties. I even went so far as to spare your wife the trouble of showing me in, and yet you seem oblivious.”
At the Crown Prince’s brazen jab, Rishar’s blue eyes deepened to a piercing, stormy hue.
To prevent him from rising to such obvious provocation, Ancia hurriedly winked at him. Though not nearly as dazzling as the Crown Prince’s idol-like wink, her natural charm lent even her awkward attempt a certain sweetness.
It was enough to soften Rishar’s expression.
“Wife, will you be all right alone?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about me, go on ahead.”
Work was indeed piling up, and if someone must be detained to entertain the imperial guest, it was far better that it be Ancia. She could always use her fragile health as an excuse to withdraw if necessary.
Rishar, urged on by his aides and Arthur, was reluctantly forced to leave.
Yet even as he turned, he glared at the back of the Crown Prince’s head as though he might burn a hole through it. Only the knowledge that they were still in the same household made the concession tolerable.
The moment Rishar was out of sight, Ancia allowed herself to sway slightly, casting a discreet signal to Bianca.
“My lady! Are you all right?”
Bianca’s swift support was exactly what Ancia had counted on.
“Yes, I’m just a bit dizzy. I’m fine now.”
“You must be exhausted. You’ve barely slept and stood so long—it’s no wonder you might faint. Let me support you.”
Bianca’s quick thinking was admirable, as always.
Though a common-born maid, her beauty was far from ordinary.
Even the imperial guards, accustomed as they were to the stunning women of the imperial palace, cast appreciative glances at her.
With such a pair—the elegant beauty of Bianca and the delicate charm of Ancia—few would dare to utter a harsh word.
But it was ineffective against the Crown Prince, whose beauty outshone them both.
“I cannot punish a guest’s maid for such astonishing rudeness, but I shall expect a wise response from the Duchess herself.”
His tone, lighter than it had been with Rishar, told Ancia exactly what sort of man he was.
Though he could feign approachability, Cailus was still imperial through and through. Bianca’s beauty, as a commoner’s, meant nothing to him, and he paid her no mind.
His courtesy toward me isn’t genuine. If he’s willing to ignore the plight of someone unwell just to chastise her maid, his intentions are plain enough.
Ancia felt an odd sense of relief. Her attempt to divert his attention had failed, but at least the Crown Prince’s focus had shifted back to her rather than endangering Bianca.
One thing was clear: when dealing with Cailus, she must never involve others.
Lowering her head, she accepted this truth. The duchess, dressed in white and appearing all the more fragile for it, drew the gaze of every knight present as she bowed.
“If punishment must be dealt, let it fall upon me. It is my fault for failing to properly educate someone who had lived freely before entering the ducal household.”
“To punish the Duchess herself? Do I appear so merciless?”
Cailus’s answer, indifferent to beauty and dismissive of noble decorum alike, left Ancia feeling utterly cornered.
this prince showed up as soon as rosa was imprisoned. so sussy