Chapter 12
The scent of rain lifting from the earth rises into the air.
Lord Roland, brushing at his damp collar, glanced up toward the sky.
“Iris.”
“Yes?”
“I rushed ahead because I wanted to surprise you. I wish I could be like you—someone who can grasp the whole world in just three lines.”
“You already have your own three lines,” I said.
“…Where?”
I lightly tapped his chest pocket with a finger.
“Here. ‘I want to protect.’ ‘I want to be useful.’ ‘I want you to smile beside me.’ Those are your three lines.”
He blinked, and then smiled.
A small, unfairly gentle smile—but today, it trembled just a little.
“Iris, you really are amazing.”
“That’s just a fact.”
“…And adorable.”
“That’s also a fact.”
We both laughed.
The tension between us melted away.
(Observation note: laughter = nullifies overexertion.)
＊
Inside the carriage returning to the royal capital.
Evening sunlight streamed along the windowpanes.
I filled in today’s summary on the observation sheet.
Overexertion prevention: “Three-line consultation card” → effective
Accident avoidance: Joint response (secured stepladder & star embroidery) → success
Bangs: critical zone → recovered
New category: “Trying-hard cute” (benign)
“For the self-evaluation column—what shall we put today?”
“Today…”
Lord Roland thought for a moment, then carefully wrote:
(Very cute + trying-hard)
“Bonus points,” I said.
“Yeah. It feels like… a day where, thanks to you, I could allow myself to be cute.”
As he spoke, his gaze wavered just slightly.
(It’s coming—)
In my chest, the shadow of that question flickered again:
—I wonder if you really love me.
A premonition. For today, I wanted to keep it within “preventive observation.”
“Lord Roland.”
“Yes?”
“Let’s plan the surprise together—the grant proposal, the plant selection, everything. I want to do it with you.”
“…!”
His shoulders trembled ever so slightly.
(Observation: relief = one deep breath.)
“Let’s do it—together.”
“Yes. Let’s each write our three lines.”
“Got it. Time to practice ‘consulting-cute.’”
I nodded and handed him the honey-lemon water.
The setting sun shone through the glass bottle, filling the carriage with a gentle, sunlit sweetness.
