~Chapter 47~
Both Aveline and Ares stayed silent, fidgeting nervously. Count Herols’s face was growing more and more grave.
“Don’t tell me… Did he actually propose?”
“Um…”
“Well, answer me already!”
Count Herols, growing frustrated at their lack of response, raised his voice.
“Well, it was… sort of like that…”
After agonizing over what to say, Aveline finally managed a weak reply.
“What?”
Hearing the answer he dreaded, Count Herols almost staggered as if his knees had buckled.
“Oh, good heavens.”
“Father!”
Ares hurried to support the Count, who looked like he might collapse. Regaining his composure, Count Herols grabbed onto Ares’s arm.
“I sent you along precisely to prevent something like this!”
Ares couldn’t answer, bowing his head under his father’s rebuke.
“It’s not really Ares’s fault,” Aveline spoke up.
After all, Serio had gone all out—even decorating the road to the palace.
There wasn’t much Ares could’ve done in the face of a Crown Prince so determined.
Just sitting beside me and keeping watch was enough.
If even Ares hadn’t been there, she would’ve had no idea how to handle Serio on her own.
“So…”
Count Herols, biting his lip anxiously, continued.
“You did turn him down, right?”
“Huh?”
“I mean you refused—told him you’d never be Crown Princess!”
The Count’s voice thundered through the hall, edged with real panic.
“It’s not just that he doesn’t want me connected to the Imperial family… It’s something deeper.”
Aveline looked at her father, suddenly sensing the hard shell he’d always shown her had cracked, exposing a raw vulnerability she’d never seen before.
He’s genuinely scared.
She’d heard her father say before that he didn’t want her to be Crown Princess, but she sensed now that the aversion was even stronger—rooted in something she didn’t know.
‘Is there something I don’t know about?’
“Why won’t you answer me!” the Count demanded again.
“Don’t worry,” said a familiar voice from behind.
A dramatic entrance… That could only be—
Sure enough, there stood Theron.
“Count! I asked you to wait just a moment—!” the butler called breathlessly, rushing after him.
Theron, brazen as ever, seemed completely at home despite barging in without warning. In fact, on this second intrusion, he looked even more comfortable than before.
What now? Why is Theron in our hallway?
Theron’s eyes flickered over Aveline’s face, his brows furrowing as if something displeased him.
What’s with that look? she thought, suddenly self-conscious—she hadn’t even washed her face yet, and her eyes were still puffy from crying all night.
“Why are you here again, Your Grace?” Count Herols managed, regaining his composure.
“This is the second time you’ve dropped by unannounced so early. Even for a Duke, this is too much.”
The first time, he’d stormed in over his “missing jewel.” Aveline shuddered just remembering how everyone had pitied her then.
“My apologies,” Theron said, surprisingly polite.
Everyone—Aveline, Count Herols, Ares, even the butler—gaped in shock at Theron’s uncharacteristically courteous manner.
“I couldn’t help myself—I spent all night longing to see Lady Herols.”
Ares, still holding up their father, nearly gagged.
Count Herols’s eyes shook, as if he’d just heard something unforgivable.
“So, what…?”
Forcing himself to calm down, the Count asked in a trembling voice.
“I understand how you feel,” Theron replied graciously. “I imagine you were quite alarmed after the Crown Prince’s behavior yesterday.”
“That’s true, but…”
The Count trailed off, cowed by Theron’s confident air, as if the Crown Prince was the only reason he was upset.
“I think the person truly causing a scene here is you, Your Grace—”
“Barom.”
At Theron’s curt call, a tall man with long, red hair braided over his shoulder stepped from the shadows.
A familiar face…
Ares recognized him, too.
“Bring the gift.”
“Ugh. Such a hassle,” Barom grumbled. It was the same man who’d fetched Ares back in the alley that time.
Barom rolled his eyes but did as he was told, and when he caught Aveline’s gaze, a bit of life sparked in his usually drowsy red eyes.
“Oh, first time I’ve seen you up close.”
“Barom.”
“All right, all right.”
Barom muttered as Theron warned him off and hurried away. Soon, he returned with a train of servants, all carrying expensive-looking fabrics, exotic porcelain, jewelry, and gems.
“…What’s all this?” Count Herols asked.
“Bribes,” Theron replied, with a perfect smile.
“To buy permission for a little time with Lady Herols.”
“The weather’s nice, isn’t it?” Theron remarked cheerfully.
How did I end up in this situation?
Aveline found herself walking the city streets beside Theron. He’d just handed over a mountain of gifts and requested time alone with her. Her father had simply asked if she was all right with it, and then let her go.
It’s just like last time, when the Duke invaded our house—but this time, we’re in the middle of the city, not the garden.
People gossiped as they walked.
“Isn’t that Duke Ribes?”
“It is! But who’s the young lady with him…?”
“That’s Lady Herols, isn’t it?”
Aveline could hear whispers with every step.
“Your Grace,” she finally said, “just how long do we have to walk?”
“Until people have seen enough of us together,” Theron replied.
Of course.
He’d insisted they walk, rather than take the carriage, the moment they reached town. It was obviously to counteract the rumors about her private audience with the Crown Prince.
“I want to stop walking,” Aveline admitted at last.
They’d circled the same block four times, and her legs were starting to ache. Her shoes—borrowed from her mother—didn’t fit well at all.
“Oh,” Theron said, genuinely surprised. “I forgot your stamina isn’t the same as mine.”
Theron, after four laps around the city, still looked fresh as ever. Aveline, on the other hand, was starting to regret skipping gym class.
“Let’s move somewhere else, then,” Theron said, abruptly scooping her up in a princess carry.
“Y-Your Grace! What are you doing?!”
“Let’s go like this.”
People’s stares were now impossible to ignore. Aveline buried her face in her hands, grateful for her bonnet—at least it hid some of her still-swollen eyes.
Oddly enough, despite her embarrassment, being in Theron’s arms felt strangely comfortable.
