**Chapter 17**
Berin, who normally kept quiet and blended into the background, was unusually talkative today. I used to think he simply disliked conversation, but now I realized—it wasn’t that at all. Like during the cheek-kiss debacle, he was just trying to avoid attracting the crown prince’s attention.
Glancing at the empty seat beside me, I turned to Berin and asked,
“Secretary Hasell went with him, right?”
“Yes. He accompanies His Highness everywhere.”
“And how long have you been working here, Secretary Berin?”
“Ten years.”
“Are you married?”
“Yes.”
“Then… would you mind telling me your love story? I’ve been writing romance novels, and lately I’ve been curious about other people’s relationships. I’d ask His Highness for advice, but… well, as you know, he’s never dated, so his words don’t hold much weight.”
“My marriage was arranged. I don’t have much to share. You’d be better off asking someone with real experience.”
“I don’t really have anyone like that around me.”
“Didn’t someone ask Deputy Hasell about this before? You might want to try him.”
“Who?”
“Sir Magnum. The second son of Baron Schuven.”
“Oh? You were there for that?”
“I’m always here. People just don’t notice.”
“Ah… haha. Hahaha… But really, does Sir Magnum have a lot of romantic experience?”
“Given my position involves keeping records, I do hear a fair amount of palace gossip.”
I wasn’t entirely surprised. It would be more shocking if a man with Sir Magnum’s looks *didn’t* have admirers. The thought made me curious—what kind of romances had he experienced? Maybe I could use it as novel material…
**Knock knock.**
I stopped talking and turned toward the door. A servant entered, bowed lightly, and approached me.
“Secretary Shanael, you have visitors.”
“Visitors? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“They introduced themselves as Editor-in-Chief Edward and someone named Zeke, from *The Springtimes Gazette*. Said you’d recognize them.”
“Oh… I do. I know them.”
I set my teacup down on the desk and followed the servant down the stairs. I’d been submitting my manuscript on time, so I couldn’t imagine what brought them here now.
As I entered the drawing room, the two men stood and removed their hats.
“Sha—Shanael!”
“Well, look at you! You’ve been doing well, haven’t you?”
Despite having found them annoying at times during our years together, I couldn’t help but feel genuinely glad to see them. We’d shared two years at the paper, after all.
“Editor-in-Chief! Zeke! What brings you here?”
“We just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I know that’s not true. You clearly need something.”
They exchanged glances and nibbled nervously on the tea biscuits. The way they avoided my eyes told me everything—they were about to ask for a big favor.
I stood up. “Well, now that you’ve seen I’m alive and well, I’ll be on my way.”
They each grabbed an arm.
“Shanael! W-we need your help!”
“Please save us from bankruptcy!”
I stared at them in disbelief. Bankruptcy? The *Springtimes Gazette*? When I left, it was the best-selling paper in the capital. How could it be collapsing now?
“What are you talking about? And what about *The Crown Prince’s Final Love*? His Highness is a fan—does he know?”
“Of course not! It was my fault… I messed everything up.”
“Editor-in-Chief, explain. Clearly.”
As he began to speak, I learned that circulation had been booming and the Crown Prince’s patronage was steady. But then greed got the better of Edward. He decided to expand into new regions, and during that venture, a ship carrying the investment funds was raided by pirates.
To recover the loss, he borrowed money from loan sharks at outrageous interest. Then, trying to repay it, he gambled at a casino—and lost everything.
“So… you’re saying you don’t even have enough to pay the print house next month?”
“Exactly. I’m so sorry. Please, help us, Shanael.”
“How? I’m just a poor commoner myself!”
“Could you… maybe ask His Highness if he could advance us a year’s worth of sponsorship funds…?”
“Are you insane?! If I say something like that, do you think I’ll keep my head?”
“I mean… there are rumors. People say the Crown Prince favors you—”
“Those rumors are nonsense. He doesn’t *favor* me—he harasses me constantly. I’m like a bean in a boiling pot, getting thoroughly roasted every day!”
The Editor-in-Chief dropped to his knees before I could stop him. I rushed forward, alarmed, but he only begged harder.
“You’re our last hope. Please, that loan shark said he’d seize our homes and the press itself if we don’t pay next month. If the paper shuts down, how will I feed my family? My youngest is only ten. Just… just mention it to His Highness. Please?”
Zeke knelt beside him, hands clasped. Apparently, he’d co-signed the loan.
“Shanael, I’m begging you. Think of the years we worked together. If my grandmother finds out, she’ll collapse!”
It was hard to refuse. When I was scraping by on bakery wages with no place to live, the Editor-in-Chief gave me a room to write in. Zeke’s grandmother used to bring me food when I lived alone.
These were the people who helped me when I had nothing. I closed my eyes tight and sighed.
“Fine. I’ll bring it up… but don’t get your hopes up. He barely listens to a word I say.”
“Thank you! *Thank you*, Shanael—sniff—!”
“Shanaeeeel—wahhhh—!”
“But I don’t know when His Highness will be back. From what I’ve heard, he’s out on a subjugation campaign and won’t return for at least two weeks.”
They said that was fine, and left with a thousand thanks. I couldn’t say no to them because without their support, I wouldn’t have become a published author or saved enough money for the future.
I decided to speak with Deputy Hasell first, to get advice on how best to approach the Crown Prince.
I thought I had at least a week to prepare.
I was wrong. Four days later, the subjugation party returned to the palace.
—
**Cheers erupted—**
The capital’s gates echoed with the sound of people cheering. Even from afar, the crowds lining the city walls told me who had arrived.
Berin glanced out the window and began tidying his desk.
“Secretary Shanael, shall we go greet His Highness?”
“Yes, let’s.”
We exited the office and walked to the palace gates. A double line of royal guards stood tall, holding banners of the crown, while nobles and court officials gathered to welcome the returning prince.
As the party crossed the drawbridge, trumpeters at the front of the gate raised their instruments and played a grand fanfare. The rhythmic pounding of hooves soon followed, and the vanguard of the expedition revealed themselves.
*There he is—His Highness the Crown Prince!*
I spotted him leading the procession. Their mission must have been a success; everyone looked confident and victorious.
*Oh! So Sir Magnum went on campaign too?*
No wonder I hadn’t seen him during our recent horseback lesson.
Crown Prince Jereon rode at the front, helm tucked under one arm and reins in the other. His posture was upright, but his face betrayed exhaustion.
He scanned the gathered crowd with a dull gaze, then turned forward again. It wasn’t strange—he must be drained from the ordeal—but when I saw his sword sheath, I froze.
*That stain—*
*Is that… all blood?*
Even from a distance, I could see the dried blood on his armor and blade. The image alone painted a grim picture of the battlefield.
Jereon handed his helmet to a waiting aide and dismounted. A groom stepped in to take his horse.
When courtiers tried to speak with him, he merely handed off his cloak to a nearby servant without answering a word. He seemed irritated by the attention.
Berin and I hesitated. We were meant to greet him, but his icy expression made us instinctively step back.
*He looks exhausted… I’ll greet him later.*
I turned to leave, blending into the crowd. But just then, my eyes met his. For a fleeting second, he looked right at me—then the sea of people surged forward, blocking my view.
I didn’t want to cause a scene by standing in the middle of the path, so I let the crowd carry me away.
Before I realized it, I had been swept all the way to a side garden rather than the palace entrance. Berin was nowhere to be seen, likely lost in the crowd as well.
I turned around to head back, but the moment I rounded a corner—I froze.
Someone stood there, clad in armor, so imposing he felt more like a wall than a man.
I tried to step past him.
Then, his gloved hand reached out and gently took mine. The cold, solid weight of it startled me. I looked up—
It was the Crown Prince.
