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Chapter 56
“Is the princess still asleep?”
Charles, standing outside Princess Wentworth’s door, answered Clark’s repeated question with a slightly annoyed tone.
“Yes, she’s still fast asleep, sir. Why do you keep asking?”
When Derek was off duty, Charles or other attendants stayed near Amelia.
Vivian had gone to the kitchen early to prepare breakfast.
“Because the crown prince has been waiting. Can’t you just wake her?”
Clark reached to knock on Amelia’s door, but Charles hurriedly stepped in front of him.
“Sir, what are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why wake someone who is sleeping peacefully?”
“Didn’t you hear? The crown prince is waiting for her.”
“Then he can wait a bit longer.”
Usually mild-mannered Charles speaking up like this left Clark stunned.
“Hey, Charles. Whose attendant are you?”
“Well… I’m an attendant of the Crown Prince’s household.”
“Then who are you prioritizing right now?”
……
Charles shut his mouth stubbornly, and Clark stared at him in disbelief.
“Hey, you really….”
At that moment—
“Charles, what’s going on?”
Click—
A door hidden behind Charles opened, and Amelia poked her head out.
“Oh, Princess.”
“Gasp, are you awake?”
“What’s all this noise? I heard people talking.”
Charles shot a reproachful look at Clark, and Clark bowed politely to Amelia.
“Sorry to disturb your rest, Princess. The Crown Prince has been waiting for you, so we risked the breach of etiquette to come.”
“The prince… at this hour?”
Amelia slipped out of the room, and Charles and Clark glanced over her, then quickly averted their eyes.
The reason was simple: Amelia was wearing pants.
Under a tunic she wore loose trousers, tights beneath, and flat shoes—very similar to the attendants’ attire, nothing remarkable unless it was worn by the Princess of Wentworth.
“Uh, P-Princess? That outfit…?”
“Oh, it’s just that I wanted to exercise, and wearing a skirt makes running awkward.”
“Exercise?”
“Yes. So, where is His Highness?”
“He’s in the bedroom.”
“Got it.”
She looked like she was going to leave, but Amelia slipped back inside for a moment.
Then she took a cloth tie in her mouth and gathered her long purple hair into a single knot with both hands.
“Do I look strange?”
Clark and Charles’ eyes dropped to Amelia’s body and quickly returned to their faces.
“It’s just… seeing a lady wear trousers is rare….”
“Well, women wear pants at the hunting contest. And there are lady knights sometimes. They wear pants too.”
“Of—of course.”
When thought of that way, it made sense. Still, it was uncommon for a noble lady or gentlewoman to wear trousers in daily life.
Leaving the stunned Clark and Charles behind, Amelia stood before the crown prince’s bedroom door.
Knock, knock, knock—
Why is he looking for me this early?
I thought about ignoring it and going for my exercise, but I got curious—how urgent could it be?
From inside came Vincent’s voice.
“Oh, come in quickly.”
At the word quick, I opened the door and froze at the scene before me.
Vincent stood with his back turned, shirtless. Fortunately, he still wore trousers. I didn’t dwell on what made that unfortunate.
“Clark, maybe what you were wearing earlier is less….”
Vincent, turning, also froze when he saw me.
“…….”
For a long moment Vincent and I just stared at each other.
“Princess, your attire—”
“Your Highness, put some clothes on first.”
After scanning his well-defined muscles, I pretended to turn away.
Vincent, remembering his state, hurried to put something on.
“Is this enough?”
“Yes.”
I turned back to face Vincent and swallowed. He was covering nothing but skin—wearing a white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone.
Even partially covered, the silhouette of his shoulders, arms, and chest showed—more appealing, somehow, than being fully uncovered.
“Amelia.”
“Yes?”
Lost in looking at him, I jumped when my name was called.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
“Oh, I thought I’d start morning exercise. Not much, just a few laps in the front garden.”
“Why such an idea?”
Lately I’ve been asked why a lot. Is it that odd?
“My stamina’s fallen. My legs hurt when I walk around.”
“If it’s too far, take a carriage. The palace is quite spread out.”
“I still want to do it for my health. Anyway, you wanted me?”
“…Come to the study instead. It’s better for business talk.”
Oh, I blinked, and Vincent looked at me as if he’d made up his mind about something.
“Wait a moment. Clark, inside.”
“Yes, sir!”
He led Clark into a smaller room adjoining the bedroom. Clark, fidgeting, followed obediently at the prince’s call.
While I waited, Vincent’s bare body kept intruding into my thoughts and I repeatedly tried to erase the image.
Of course, this is the male lead’s fate.
With that face and body—sure, the suit didn’t hide his solidity, but seeing it properly now made me smile involuntarily.
A little later, Vincent reappeared wearing a loose tunic over his trousers.
“You changed clothes?”
“Yes, for exercise.”
“You’re going to exercise too, Your Highness?”
“Were you planning to go alone?”
After they asked each other that, a short silence fell. I quickly grabbed hold of myself and answered.
“Yes. But, ah, it would be better if we did it together, right?”
I almost said why, but if I did, Vincent might spend the day devising 245 ways to kill Amelia.
“Go then. If we’re doing it, we might as well do it properly.”
I was glad to hear that last line—at least he wouldn’t be a bother.
Some time later.
“Huff, huff, ugh, argh.”
“Amelia, this is the last lap, push through.”
“I— I can’t— I’m trying— huff.”
“Then you won’t train properly.”
“I didn’t set out to train—”
I was running the drill ground where the knights trained.
It was early dawn so no one else was there. And Vincent was keeping his promise to do it properly.
“Ugh….”
He put me through cycles of short rests and high-intensity sprints, grinding me down. Even when I said I needed a break, he forced me back up to run.
So he’d planned this all along. The 245 ways to kill Amelia—this was plan number 76. I must have walked straight into that trap on my own feet!
Beside me, Vincent ran without even sounding out of breath. Somehow he smiled at my pained, contorted face as if he found it amusing.
I wanted to slap that handsome face, but I didn’t have the energy.
“Last lap. Keep going.”
At the word last lap, I gritted my teeth and used every ounce of strength left to move my legs.
“Aaaah.”
I completed all ten laps Vincent first suggested. I felt foolish for having underestimated ten laps, then flopped down hard on the ground.
