IGMU 17

Chapter 17

Franz let out a hollow laugh, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

What was that pathetic excuse for surveillance? It was practically announcing, “I’m following you right now.”

He had already noticed her. Yet she still trailed him cautiously, as if she were trying to play detective without even realizing she’d been exposed.

Franz walked casually and entered a jewelry shop. Seeing him, Hans hurried over with a startled expression.

“Your Highness! Where on earth have you been?”

“Enough. Take this.”

Franz pulled a leather organizer from inside his coat and handed it to Hans.

“What is this? Are you giving it to me?”

Hans examined it from all angles. It was tightly bound with leather strings, making it impossible to see inside.

“Is it a notebook… Did you buy this?”

“No.”

“Pardon? If you didn’t buy it, then… what is it?”

Hans looked at him with obvious confusion, silently asking Then what is it?

Franz had no intention of satisfying his curiosity.

It wasn’t as if he had committed a crime.

No—actually, it was.

I took someone else’s property without saying a word. That is a crime.

When he had left the art supply store called Magello, he had taken the notebook on impulse. It had not been planned at all.

It had belonged to Elia Clarence. She had carried it everywhere, treating it as something precious. After paying, she had left it on the table—and in a split second, Franz had become curious about what was inside.

Before he knew it, he was walking out with it in hand.

He had been educated in the finest manner. He couldn’t claim he had lived an especially noble life, but he had always believed he lived honestly.

And yet I stole something.

Franz looked genuinely troubled.

At this point, whatever was inside had better be worth it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

“It’s not a gift, so keep it safe.”

Franz wrote something on a card, sealed the envelope, and handed it to Hans.

“And this—go to Manches Street. There’s an art supply store called Magello. Deliver this to the owner. If a woman comes looking for a leather organizer, give her this card.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I have something to attend to. I’ll head back first.”

“A schedule I wasn’t aware of?”

“It came up suddenly.”

“Ah… I understand.”

Franz left Hans behind and turned away.

When he stepped out again, Elia was visible not far away.

Now what do I do…

It seemed he would have to lure her somewhere quiet. He recalled a nearby open-air café and headed there.

As expected, Elia—who had been following him all along—took a seat at a table not far from him, using her maid as a shield while facing in his direction.

This is unbelievable.

Whatever guilt he had felt for taking her belongings had already vanished.

Why is she going this far? I don’t understand.

It didn’t look like affection. Then what—spy work?

Ridiculous. What kind of spy is that obvious?

The only question left was why she was doing this.

Franz deliberately avoided looking at her.

Fine. Let’s see how far she goes.

He had set the stage. Now he would wait for her to make a move.

Elia watched Franz order and thought she had done the right thing by following him. Compared to briefly seeing him at the academy, this felt much safer. There were too many people for her to be easily noticed.

“Betty. Order whatever you want.”

“And you, miss?”

“I’ll just have coffee.”

“Yes!”

Betty, fully immersed in her role as a “shield,” straightened her back proudly and placed the order.

When the food arrived, Elia—thirsty—took a sip of coffee and then stole glances at Franz again.

Even from where she sat, she could see passersby glancing at the prince like a painting. Some stared openly without even trying to hide it.

Doesn’t it bother him that people keep staring? If it were me, I’d be red in the face…

Yet Franz’s expression, as he looked out at the busy street, remained calm.

Well, it’s not my problem. If he’s fine with it…

“Miss, are you even looking properly?”

Betty asked suddenly while eating Earl Grey cake.

“Huh?”

“I mean, if you stare so timidly, when are you ever going to make eye contact with the prince? You have to be bold!”

Betty spoke as if she were both frustrated and concerned.

“You came all this way—you should get some result. What’s wrong with you today?”

Elia had no answer.

She knew better than anyone, but it still felt overwhelming.

Right. Why am I acting so unlike myself?

Her nerves kept tightening. Lost in thought, she stared absentmindedly at Franz without realizing it.

And then—

Wait… Ocean Blue No. 5…

Her gaze landed on his blue eyes, and she froze in admiration.

She wasn’t mistaken. It was unmistakable.

Beautiful…

“Ocean Blue No. 5” was the only color she had ever successfully mixed herself.

She had always bought paints from supply stores. But four years ago, during a summer trip to the port city of Rosalito with her family, she had seen the color of the sea—and it had left a deep impression on her.

After returning to Villen, she tried to recreate it but couldn’t find anything satisfactory. Even after mixing pigments, it always felt slightly off.

Eventually, she found a book on pigments and began experimenting seriously. After dozens of failures, she finally succeeded.

She ground fine azurite and mixed it with water infused from “Tintoria flower fruit” to recreate the ocean blue she remembered.

When she finally achieved it, she had been so overwhelmed with joy that she nearly screamed.

She named it “Ocean Blue No. 5.”

She liked the number five because it was neither too small nor too large—something modest, something she felt mirrored herself.

Even though it didn’t quite match the radiant sea of Rosalito, that was precisely why she liked the name. She wanted “five” itself to shine.

But despite creating it, she had never once used it in a painting. It was too precious. And perhaps there had never been a place worthy of it.

Yet now—

Now…

Her heartbeat began to stir.

The air around her felt strangely tense, almost trembling.

Those ocean-blue eyes felt refreshing and almost mysterious.

…Wait. Eyes?

Her mind snapped back.

“Eek!”

She jolted as her gaze collided with Franz’s.

She had only just realized she had been openly staring at him.

Embarrassed and flustered, she quickly lowered her head and stared intensely at her coffee cup instead. Her heart felt strangely unsettled.

This time, Franz was the one who stared at Elia.

When her persistent gaze made his face itch, he turned away—only to find her already looking at him.

She was just… staring blankly at his face.

Then their eyes met.

Her emerald-gray eyes shimmered in midair. Neither of them moved.

Franz’s expression gradually stiffened, while a faint smile formed on Elia’s lips.

That smile deepened as she continued to look at him.

Franz’s gaze sharpened.

What is this?

Her expression was completely different from before. Gone was the awkward, timid girl. Instead, she looked like a girl in love, dreamy and bright.

Staring like she’s fallen at first sight?

Franz was genuinely taken aback. If he didn’t know better, he might have been fooled.

Is she actually a better actress than Chloe?

The thought of Chloe soured his mood.

If she was doing this to gain his attention, then she had succeeded. Normally, he would have ignored her entirely—but here they were, locked in this moment.

The cause was undoubtedly Elia Clarence.

At this point, he had to admit she wasn’t entirely insignificant.

Then her expression changed again—her eyes widened briefly before her face hardened. Her lips straightened into a firm line, giving her a stubborn, resolute look.

This is more tolerable than that dazed face.

Franz gave a faint laugh and folded his arms, watching her closely.

Now her nervousness was obvious. It was almost pitiful—but also amusing.

Sorry, but I’m not planning to make this easy for you. You shouldn’t have provoked me.

His sharp gaze continued to follow Elia.