Chapter 55
“I received a report that Miss Noma and… Mr. Rivera have returned.”
“They’re probably busy with guild matters. Those two pop up in the east and the west like lightning, so there’s no need to worry too much. If something urgent comes up, they can exchange messages through Coco.”
“I see.”
Windsor had gone to find Erne to tell her the coronation date had been set.
After the queen’s funeral ended and Marquis Demian was released, the Babylon family began moving in an obvious panic—as if they had something to hide. And the moment the news broke that Marquis Demian had died in an “accident” on his way home, they saw their chance.
So before any other rumors start, they’re preparing for a coronation to take over as regent on Babylon’s behalf. Tsk.
Windsor read their transparent little scheme with a scowl.
It was a blatant declaration that they wouldn’t even give the royal collateral branches the time to search for a legitimate heir to the throne.
Even as he left those disagreeable people behind, Windsor’s mind was full of other concerns.
Those two people who were supposedly Erne’s close friends…
On the surface, they had seemed ordinary enough. But maybe it was just that he was extra sensitive right now—
because it bothered him that their disappearance happened at the exact time Marquis Demian had his accident.
Still, Windsor chose not to bring it up. He didn’t want to unsettle Erne with things he couldn’t prove.
Because of work during the day, he only had the chance to speak seriously with her late at night.
She was sitting with a glass of sweet fruit wine in front of her, unable to sleep, and Windsor couldn’t help thinking—with no small amount of wickedness—that this was a dangerous moment.
To chase away strange instincts and worse thoughts, Windsor deliberately lightened the mood with a teasing tone.
“Well then, how’s your grand plan for revenge coming along?”
“Yes. Honestly, the etiquette I’m learning now is even stricter than what I learned after I regained my status as a princess.”
“My work is also wrapping up. The coronation date has been set—four days from now, apparently.”
“Really?”
“With the fire under their feet, it’s in their interest to rush things. If rumors start circulating, all their grand plans could vanish into thin air.”
“They want the crown that badly…”
Erne’s brows knitted together, and she ground her teeth in the direction of the Babylon family.
“The second son of the Babylon family is truly foolish. To win public favor as he takes control of the royal family, he declared he would open the royal treasury. But as you know, the royal treasury is completely empty.”
“So that means… he’s planning to issue government bonds?”
When she blinked at him like a startled rabbit, Windsor let out a low chuckle. Every bit of her attention fixed on his words was endearing.
Beyond the relationship of teacher and parent of a pupil, the bond between princess and subject wasn’t bad at all.
“The Neshard market is controlled by Douglas. And so is Neshard’s central bank, the Palette.”
“You don’t mean… that’s Douglas’s as well?”
“Yes.”
To calm her surprise, Erne drained her glass in one go.
She had always known he was born with a silver spoon, but living in Douglas—or simply being by Windsor’s side—she realized again and again that he was born with something even rarer: a diamond spoon, more than she had as a princess.
I guess that explains Shuknen’s home-ground arrogance…
Oblivious to her thoughts, Windsor spoke evenly, catching her hand before she could reach for her glass again.
“Therefore, that grand talk of issuing bonds will all come to nothing. He’ll end up having to borrow the funds from Douglas.”
“If Douglas refuses to lend, Derek will try to persuade the bourgeoisie.”
“I’ve accounted for that too.”
He didn’t lay out the details, but Erne felt reassured by Windsor’s resolute manner. She hadn’t known how comforting it could be to have someone to rely on.
“One more thing, Your Highness. Are you feeling well? No matter how sleepless you are, alcohol is dangerous for someone as frail as you.”
“This much is fine. I asked Belli to bring me something with a low alcohol content.”
“I’m the one who’s not fine.”
“…Pardon?”
“It’s not fine for me to see you drinking at this hour.”
Blink. Erne slowly opened her eyes wide, then startled. At first, she hadn’t understood his meaning—but as she did, her cheeks began to burn. That fruit wine was to blame, surely.
Windsor’s eyebrow twitched as he eyed the half-empty bottle.
“If you insist, I’ll drink it for you.”
“No, there’s no need for that—”
She waved her hands to refuse, but froze when she realized her glass was already in Windsor’s possession.
Oh no! That’s an indirect kiss!
He took the very glass her lips had touched and drained it in one go, right in front of her.
Her cheeks felt hot even though it wasn’t a real kiss.
Again—definitely the fruit wine’s fault. She’d thought it was sweet enough not to get her tipsy at all.
“It’s good.”
“…Just drink it all, Windsor.”
Resigned, Erne shoved the bottle and glass at him, and he smiled gently.
Seeing how easily she flushed after just a little alcohol, he concluded she really was a lightweight.
“Ah, there’s one more thing I should tell you.”
“There’s more?”
“Yes. I’ve been making inquiries to find out your exact condition and diagnosis, but finding a sorcerer isn’t easy.”
“You still believe I’m connected to the Star-Chaser.”
“I heard from Hantor. That even now, your health is poor enough that you collapse into naps in the middle of the day.”
Ugh. This was one of Windsor’s few annoying traits—when he scolded, he was persistent and relentless.
“It’s not right for a doctor to share a patient’s records with someone else.”
“Someone else? Hantor reporting your health to me is—”
“…?”
“—because I’m your guardian.”
Guardian.
Erne repeated the word silently, then ducked her head, unable to hide the heat flooding her face.
It wasn’t an ordinary word. She knew that. And that made her chest tighten and tingle all at once.
“I will be the fiancé of Princess Esch, your new identity.”
They had already discussed this, but Windsor seemed intent on repeating and emphasizing it—like he had something he really wanted to say.
“I want to ask you one last time, Erne. Is it really right to abandon the name Erne?”
Ah. Erne let out a soft sound. She had few options in this situation, but Windsor was still thinking of her until the end. When she saw the sincere worry in his eyes, she nodded without hesitation.
“Erne is dead. At least… in this situation.”
“I know. But I’m not worried about Princess Esch. I’m worried about you, Erne.”
His voice was so earnest it left no doubt.
She had been determined to discard the name Erne and repay an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth—answering savagery with savagery. But Windsor’s concern for her made her heart pound fiercely.
He spoke of restoring her royal title, of taking the throne, of clearing her father’s name of treason after the late queen’s death. But the countless stares she had endured in Douglas had only made her shrink in on herself.
And yet this man before her ignored all the gossip and meddling and thought only of Erne.
A gentle man.
He could be absurd at times and invite trouble, but when his eyes were full of her, Erne found certainty in the things she’d once wavered over.
Ever since she began thinking of Windsor as her ally, she had truly been fine. There was nothing to fear.
“…It’s all right. You know me, Windsor. The real me—Erne.”
For Erne, it was enough that even one person understood her. And she was glad that person was Windsor.
“Even if everyone else believes Erne is dead and sees me only as Princess Esch—you’ll know who I really am. That’s enough.”
Windsor’s voice turned cautious, as if restraining something.
“Is that… because I’m Shuknen’s father? Because I’m your pupil’s parent?”
“No, not at all!”
“…?”
“Not that misunderstanding… but because you call yourself my guardian, just as you said.”
At her firm denial, Windsor’s eyes curved into a smile, a soft arc of joy.
“I’m glad. Truly.”
It felt as though his feelings for Erne had finally reached her. Maybe it was the alcohol on an empty stomach, but Windsor couldn’t stop himself from leaning toward her.
His body’s thirst kept pulling him toward her.
“Windsor, don’t you think we’re sitting a bit too close—”
Her shoulders trembled like a small bird’s wings, but Windsor was shameless.
“Really? I still think it’s too far.”
Flustered just moments ago, she now narrowed her eyes at him. Windsor clicked his tongue in mock regret and straightened up.
“All right. I’ll settle for this. For tonight.”
“For tonight?”
“Yes. I don’t want to make a mistake with you while you’ve been drinking. Honestly, I almost did just now.”
“Almost did what?”
“I’m not the type to be content with what I have. I always want more.”
Even if it was only for a moment, she had already glimpsed the darker edge of Windsor’s thoughts.
Having been caught in both his affection and his more dangerous side, Windsor decided to cling to his shamelessness to the end.
“When I told Shuknen I was engaged to you, he jumped up and down with joy.”
“He—he did?”
Windsor felt a flicker of disappointment when her expression softened at Shuknen’s name, but he didn’t show it. He just wanted to enjoy the charged atmosphere of the late night, warmed by drink.
“I also told him this—he said he needs a younger sibling.”
“…We’re not even getting married; this is just a contract engagement.”
“Well, does the order matter? It’s the outcome that counts.”
“You know that’s impossible, right?”
“It was only wishful thinking.”
“Those sad eyes won’t work on me.”
“Hm. Sharp as ever.”
He replied smoothly, clearly enjoying himself.
“I’ve spent enough time glued to you, Windsor, to read you by now.”
True enough—he nodded.
Erne was only just beginning to show her feelings bit by bit, and Windsor didn’t want to push her.
If she got scared and closed herself off again, that would be trouble.
He knew perfectly well that just now was the furthest boundary of what Erne would allow.
“All right then, Windsor. You should head back and get some rest.”
Obedient to her gentle shove toward the door, Windsor stood.
When you wanted something badly enough, waiting meant nothing.
And if it was for Erne, he could play the docile lamb hundreds, thousands of times.
All he wanted was for her to see only him.
He would gladly be Princess Esch’s fiancé and the enormous capital that would raise the crumbling Neshard back to greatness.
As soon as Windsor left, the door shut, and Erne pressed her flushed cheeks with both hands.
Her legs gave out, and she slid down the door to the floor.
She fanned herself against the lingering warmth Windsor had left in the room and clutched her foolishly pounding heart. The fierce thudding in her chest hadn’t faded.
Wow, damn…
That had been close. Really close.
