**Episode 4**
The man, or rather the ghost, who called himself **Leopold**, spoke unbelievable words. Overnight, no one could see me, hear me, or even touch me—just like a soul that had left its body.
“So… you’re asking me to find out what happened to you?”
Charlotte, now seated on the chair in front of the vanity, asked again.
“I don’t know if I really died and became a ghost. I just opened my eyes and found myself standing in an unfamiliar gallery.”
Moonlight shone on Leopold’s handsome face. He looked far too vivid to be a ghost. Charlotte tore her eyes away from his striking features and thought quietly. Until now, she was the only one who could see and touch him. That explained what he did earlier on the stairs.
Gathering her courage, Charlotte finally asked the question that had been circling in her head.
“If… if you really are dead and a ghost, then what will you do?”
Leopold slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again. With a faint smile, he replied,
“If that’s proven true, then I could leave this world with a light heart. Probably.”
Even though he might be dead, he was calm. After a moment, he spoke again.
“Since England is so quiet, I must still be alive for now… or at least, news of my death hasn’t spread.”
Charlotte tilted her head. What did his death have to do with England? Perhaps he was more arrogant than she first thought.
“Before the short night ends, it’s my turn to tell you what I can do for you.”
Leopold rose from his seat, speaking as if he hadn’t noticed Charlotte’s doubts. As he said, the short summer night was already deep.
“If you promise to help me, I’ll help you cover up what happened today at the Count of Oslo’s house.”
He lifted his hand, letting the moonlight fall on it, and continued.
“I grew up in London under my godfather’s guidance. So, I know not only the nobles who filled that gallery earlier, but also much about the Count of Oslo. My knowledge could be useful to you, my lady.”
Charlotte blinked. According to Aunt Elicia, she already knew about most eligible bachelors in London, and certainly in Brentwood. It was strange that she had never heard of such a striking gentleman before.
“How do you know so much about someone like the Count of Oslo? Wait… what did you say your name was?”
Suspicious, she pressed him.
“…Leopold.”
“No, I mean your family name. Without that, how can I investigate you?”
Leopold wasn’t a common name. Still, Charlotte felt she was missing something important about it.
“…I don’t really have a family name.”
At his cryptic reply, Charlotte pouted.
“No family name? What are you, royalty or something?”
“…”
His silence only confused her further. Then she suddenly remembered what Helena had shouted earlier:
“…The Count of Oslo is hosting a ball to welcome Prince Leopold…”
Charlotte’s brow furrowed. Then her eyes widened.
“W-wait… You’re not saying you’re the prince from the Kingdom of Holland, the one visiting England, are you?”
“I’d prefer to be called a duke of the duchy rather than a prince of a puppet kingdom.”
His answer wasn’t a denial. What convinced her most, though, wasn’t his words, but the noble aura she had felt from him the moment they met.
‘So when he said he lived in England under his godfather’s care… that must mean his godfather is the King of England. Then… he’s Prince Leopold of the Kingdom of Holland, supported by Napoleon I.’
Charlotte’s thoughts spun.
‘Even if he’s a ghost, he’s still royalty. Should I bow? No… more importantly, if a foreign prince’s life or death is uncertain here in England, isn’t that a huge matter?’
The weight of it hit her like a wave. For a daughter of the Augusta family to uncover his fate was far too great a burden.
“This is too much for someone like me to imagine…”
Charlotte muttered. Even if she told someone, they would think she was insane.
While she was lost in confusion, the sky outside began to grow pale. Seeing this, Leopold stepped closer to her.
“So, my lady, will you accept my proposal?”
His face was still beautiful, princely, though it seemed a little less clear than under the night sky. She still wasn’t sure if she could believe him, but she couldn’t deny his promise tempted her. If he could solve her troubles with the Count of Oslo, it was worth considering.
Hesitantly, Charlotte nodded slightly and said carefully,
“Wait. Let me try just one thing first. If it’s alright, then I’ll accept your proposal.”
She clasped her hands together, cleared her throat, and closed her eyes.
‘Miss Maria always said—if a young lady skips church too often, one day an evil spirit will cling to her.’
That was their governess’s warning. Even scatterbrained Charlotte knew she should at least test whether this suspiciously charming ghost was real.
“Our Father in heaven, Lord of my prayers and truth…”
She began reciting a prayer suddenly. Leopold stared down at her, dumbfounded.
“Remove my fear and ignorance… bring me peace… um…”
Charlotte stumbled midway. She realized the reason Maria warned her: she had skipped church too often, and now she couldn’t even remember how the prayer ended.
“In my heart… uh… in my heart… hmm…”
“Ha.”
Leopold laughed, unable to hold it in. Then he placed his large hands over Charlotte’s clasped ones. Kneeling on one knee, he met her gaze and spoke in a gentle, low voice:
“Heal all the wounds and pain that remain in my heart…”
Charlotte opened her eyes in surprise at his unexpected softness. Surely an evil spirit couldn’t recite a prayer. Bathed in the dawn light, he looked more sacred and reverent than anyone.
“Fill me with passion… and love, that will remain with You until the end of eternity.”
As dawn broke, Leopold slowly opened his eyes. His gaze—green like fresh spring leaves, shadowed with the gray of a summer storm—met hers.
Looking into those strange eyes, Charlotte nodded as if entranced.
Their deal was sealed—through a prayer.
—
