Chapter 71
“…Ahem.”
Zereon cleared his throat, pretending to be nonchalant, though his expression was familiar.
“I’m just giving feedback as a reader, so it doesn’t reflect my personal views. I just suggested that the Crown Prince might think that way in the context of the story.”
He said exactly what I had once said when I joked that, if I were Emperor, I would rule with fear.
“Anyway, understood. But I’ve decided I won’t accept your expensive gifts anymore.”
“They’re not expensive to me. I could buy you a hundred of them if I wanted.”
“Please stop giving me those gifts, and when Your Highness’s fiancée appears, give them to her instead.”
“Fiancée?”
“Yes. Your Highness’s partner.”
I wasn’t saying anything wrong, and I thought I was giving practical advice—but Zereon unexpectedly frowned in displeasure. Then, he snatched the yellow feather pen from my hand, waved it at me, and scolded:
“I don’t understand why you bring in a third party who doesn’t even exist when talking about you and me. It’s like telling me to find a dragon egg, hatch it, and raise it as my own.”
“My future partner isn’t a mythical creature… You don’t have to make it such a grand analogy. You’ll get married someday, won’t you? That’s who the jewelry should be for.”
“It doesn’t matter if the order is reversed. The person I give the jewels to could become my partner later.”
“At least it won’t be me, so please stop giving me jewelry.”
“Now that you put it that way, it feels bad.”
“Bad… how?”
“You mean you don’t want to become my partner?”
“Since I’m a commoner, do I even have the right to say yes or no? I’m just pointing out that it doesn’t apply to me. You’ll probably marry someone of similar status.”
“You’re a writer, so why are you so narrow-minded? You like stories where a northern duke falls in love with a commoner.”
“That’s popular because it’s realistically impossible. Who would buy a story where the male lead is a cobbler and the female lead works at a fruit stall, and they go Dutch on every date?”
Zereon paused thoughtfully after hearing my response and furrowed his brow slightly.
“Shanael, was your ex-boyfriend a cobbler?”
“……”
“And you insisted on going Dutch every time you went out?”
I was stunned—he had figured out my past in one shot. Once, I had 10 copper coins short, and my ex-bit into my pie to make up the difference. Not a memory I wanted to recall, yet Zereon said it as if he’d been in my head.
“You were with a pretty petty guy.”
So accurate I couldn’t deny it.
“He was petty… but anyway, don’t jokingly ask me if I want to be Your Highness’s partner. It sounds like telling me to tame a flying dragon and make it your subordinate.”
“I’m not a mythical creature…”
As our back-and-forth continued, I suddenly felt Hassel and Verin’s gazes, so I stopped responding. They had paused their own work, listening intently to us, and then busied themselves with their tasks again when they noticed me looking.
Thinking back on what I’d said, I realized I had only tried to respond rationally, but the conversation had taken a strange turn.
Knock knock
Someone knocked on the office door.
“Come in.”
A person in the attire of the palace staff, like Verin, entered.
“Your Highness, the Emperor urgently wishes to see you.”
“I’ll go right away.”
Zereon, who had been leaning on the desk, stood, set the yellow feather pen down, and left the office.
So the embarrassment is mine.
Once the Crown Prince left, Hassel and Verin began glancing at me more intently. I decided to speak first to Verin, to give them a chance to say what they needed.
“Is there something you wanted to tell me?”
“…I don’t mean to be rude, but it seems Your Highness just proposed to Secretary Shanael.”
“No, that’s not it. I told him not to give me jewelry, and he got stubborn. Who proposes while talking about dragons?”
“That’s true. I must have misread the situation.”
It wasn’t about dragons. The important point was, the Crown Prince hadn’t confessed to me. He didn’t seem inclined to.
And every time I interacted with men I was friendly with, his jealousy was only at the level of, Why are you friendly with him? Aren’t you closer to me?
After answering Verin, I thought their doubts were mostly resolved, but Hassel added:
“I agree with Secretary Verin. If you had spoken a little longer, Your Highness might have ordered me to bring a ring.”
“Come on, Hassel, you know him well. He’s not serious about that sort of thing.”
“Even the cheek kiss greeting is only done with Miss Shanael nowadays. It might have started as a casual suggestion, but now he could be serious.”
“No matter what, I’m a commoner. There’s no way a noble and a commoner would marry.”
“In the Empire, love transcends status. A few years ago, I attended a wedding where the future Marchioness was a commoner professor. They met while studying abroad and fell in love.”
“Such cases are extremely rare. And I don’t want misunderstandings like that. Even when rumors suggested I was secretly seeing Your Highness, people’s stares made me uncomfortable. Recently, Prince Felix even made ridiculous claims about serving Your Highness at night.”
“I see, that must have been difficult.”
“So I don’t want any misunderstandings regarding Your Highness and me. He truly has no feelings for me. I can sense that.”
“If Miss Shanael says so, then we were mistaken. But it is true Your Highness cares for you.”
I couldn’t deny it. I remembered what the Crown Prince had said to Magnum last week.
So he did it knowing he cares for Shanael.
“I know… because he needs me to successfully finish the novel.”
They didn’t show an overly positive reaction but seemed to understand somewhat.
Now wasn’t the time for unnecessary thoughts. I needed to quickly send the serialized story to the newspaper, so I picked up the pen.
By afternoon, past 4 p.m., the Crown Prince still hadn’t come to the office.
Hassel had gone to find him, but the prince was caught in a council meeting that had started unexpectedly. Hassel worried, but I was glad the meeting was long—I wouldn’t have to practice dancing today.
The dance I was learning this week was a waltz, stepping sideways with both hands clasped together. It was exhausting to match strides while keeping hands clasped, and our palms stuck together from sweat every time we touched and released.
I even brought white gloves to avoid sweaty hands—next time I’ll bring them.
I continued editing leisurely until the office door suddenly swung open—Zereon. His face looked dark and unhappy; he clearly wasn’t in the mood to dance.
He approached me.
“Shanael. What are you doing, just sitting there?”
“Are we going to practice dancing today?”
“Of course.”
“You don’t look like you’re in the mood.”
“No, just clear your things. I’ll talk with Hassel for a moment.”
I gathered my things and gloves while they spoke.
When Zereon arrived at the door, I reached for the handle.
“I got it. I’ll open it.”
He quickly stepped aside to let me go first.
“Thank you.”
His behavior didn’t look unpleasant, but his expression remained dark. I quietly walked alongside, not wanting to upset him. Usually, we’d chat about the novel or he’d nag me, but today he was silent.
A normally talkative person being quiet makes me very aware of him.
In the dance studio, the instructor got up from the chair as we arrived.
“I didn’t think you’d come today.”
“My meeting ran late. Shall we continue from yesterday?”
“Yes, stand in the center when you’re ready.”
I placed my bag on the table and put on the white gloves.
Good. No sweaty hands now.
Zereon draped his red cape over a nearby chair and joined me in the center. The instructor stood in the middle with a metronome and clicked it to start the rhythm.
“Now, clasp your hands and start with the preparatory steps from yesterday.”
He extended his hand, and I placed mine on top. As we intertwined fingers and prepared, he suddenly slapped my hand away.
I froze, confused, and he pointed at my hand, bewildered.
“Why are you wearing gloves all of a sudden?”
“I thought you’d be uncomfortable with sweaty hands during practice. Yesterday they were sweaty, so I prepared gloves.”
“You won’t be uncomfortable, so take them off. Dance requires connection; gloves interfere.”
The instructor nodded after hearing him.
“Yes, the closer your hands are, the better you can sense each other’s subtle intentions.”
