TSHL 13

Chapter 13

“Well…”

The answer slipped out of my mouth before I could even think.
“I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

When I answered so abruptly, the knight in front of me twitched his eyebrow.
“Are you certain? Please take another look. Truly, no one looks familiar?”
“Hm.”

They showed me the portrait once again. I studied it briefly.
“Even after a second look, I can’t say I recognize him.”
I shook my head.
“I’ve never seen this man before.”

“…I see. Understood.”

When I said that, they finally nodded and rolled up the portrait.
“If anyone resembling the man in this picture should appear, please report it immediately. A reward of 500 gold will be given to whoever aids in locating the Third Prince.”

They began walking toward the gallery’s exit. But after taking a few steps, one of them paused, turned around, and looked at me again.
“By the way… are you perhaps of noble birth?”
“…”
“Or have you ever worked in a noble household? There’s something about you—your manner, your air. You look somewhat familiar.”

I was slightly taken aback. Perhaps it was because they were royal knights—people trained to notice details.

Well, I had visited the royal palace a few times before I was married, so maybe one of them actually remembered me.

Though I was surprised, I wasn’t so inexperienced as to show it on my face.

“I’m afraid not. I’m just an ordinary citizen.”
I smiled faintly, and they tilted their heads before nodding and leaving the shop.

After they were gone, I found myself lost in thought.

Why did I answer that way? And who was the man in that portrait?

The man looked so much like Arwin.

And the knights had said the man in the portrait was the Third Prince.

Which meant… Arwin might actually be the Third Prince.

The thought tangled in my mind for a while, but soon settled down. Peace returned to me quickly.

Whether he was the Third Prince or simply Arwin—it didn’t matter to me.

Arwin was Arwin. I didn’t want to judge him by anything beyond the person I had seen and known myself.

He didn’t seem like someone who would want that either.

Come to think of it, when I was still the duchess, I’d felt the same way.

Life as a noble—it’s the same for everyone, really—but for that short while I had stood in such a high position, I couldn’t exist as myself.

Perhaps Diana had struggled so much as the Duchess for that very reason.

It must have been the weight of the crown she wore—one she hadn’t asked for, one she hadn’t chosen to bear.

A few minutes later, as I resumed my work, a gentle chime sounded as Arwin entered the shop.

“Good morning.”
“You’re here?”

I smiled at him. He ordered a cup of coffee, just as he always did.

I brought him one of the new desserts I’d been testing—sweet cheese muffins. He thanked me and carried them to his usual seat in the corner.

As I often did, I began chatting lightly about the day’s events.
“Just a while ago, a group of royal knights stopped by from the capital.”

“…!”

He nearly spat out his coffee.

He began coughing—hard. It must have gone down the wrong way.

Was he that startled? I handed him a napkin, and his face, flushed red, accepted it.

I waited patiently until he’d regained his composure.

“Just now… what did you say?”
“They said they’re still searching for the Third Prince, who disappeared years ago. Apparently, they’ve even come as far as this out-of-the-way place.”
“…Ha.”
“They showed me a portrait and asked if I’d ever seen him.”

He looked stunned. A portrait… He stared at me with something close to despair.

He took another careful sip of coffee, then spoke hesitantly.
“So… what did you tell them?”
“I said I’d never seen the man in the portrait.”

He looked surprised. A quiet pause fell between us before he spoke again.
“Didn’t the portrait… look like me?”

He asked carefully.

“I mean… I’ve been told I resemble the Third Prince quite a few times.”
“It didn’t look the same.”

He tilted his head, and I continued.
“The face resembled you, sure—but the feeling wasn’t there.”
“…”
“Besides, they say the Third Prince is a troublemaker. You don’t seem like that at all.”

It was the truth. The vivid life and warmth Arwin carried simply weren’t in that portrait.

It was something you could only feel in person—a kind of strength, a liveliness that couldn’t be painted.

“From what I’ve seen, a person’s impression matters more than their features. In that sense, I didn’t think you were the man in the picture.”
“…I see.”

He looked uncertain, sipped his coffee again, and then took a bite of the muffin.

“This muffin is wonderful. If it becomes a regular menu item, I’ll be sure to buy it often.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

Silence lingered for a moment before he spoke again.

“…Just hypothetically speaking.”
“Yes?”
“If I were the Third Prince… what would you do?”

My pen, which had been jotting down ideas for new desserts, stilled. I turned to look at him.
“Would you report me?”

“Hmm, let’s see…”

I thought about it. The answer came quickly.
“I don’t know if I’d report you. But there’s one thing I’m sure of.”
“What is that?”
“I probably wouldn’t be able to talk to you this comfortably. I’d likely avoid you.”

His expression faltered. He asked urgently,
“…Why?”
“Why do you think?”

I laughed lightly.
“Because it would be too much pressure.”

His face looked as if he’d just been struck by lightning.

* * *

The next morning, I arrived at the shop early to prepare for opening.

The paintings in the gallery could wait—they weren’t going anywhere. My priority was the café.

As I checked the coffee beans, the door opened and someone entered.

It was Arwin.

“…We’re not open yet.”
“I know. But there’s something I’ve been dying to ask.”

He strode toward me quickly.

Up close, I could see the dark circles under his eyes—had he not slept all night?

What on earth was this about? I stopped what I was doing and looked at him.

“It’s about the Third Prince.”
“…Go on.”
“They say he’s rich and handsome, right? Then why would you avoid him?”

My mouth fell slightly open.

So that’s why he looked so sleep-deprived? He’d been up all night thinking about that?

“You said you’d avoid him because it would feel like pressure—but don’t most people envy princes? Wouldn’t they want to get close to one?”
“…Well.”

I thought for a moment before answering.
“In general, you’re right. If a prince appeared before most people, they’d try to befriend him no matter what.”

I’d seen plenty of people debase themselves in front of power.

I’d lived beside Diana long enough to witness it over and over.

Even as the duchess, there were those who tried to approach me—only for the scraps of privilege that might fall their way.

Maybe that’s why.

I never found such things attractive.

“It’s just that… I’m not the type to be drawn to wealth, status, or looks.”
“…”
“And besides, the Third Prince is known to be a troublemaker, isn’t he? That alone would make him all the more intimidating to deal with.”
“…I see.”

He sighed.
“Then how could someone like me get close to someone like you?”
“Well… just be yourself, I suppose.”
“Be myself?”
“Yes. If two people learn about each other naturally, and find that they get along, friendship follows on its own. But…”

I trailed off, suddenly looking at him.
“Why are you asking me all this? Don’t tell me you’re actually the Third Prince—”
“N-no! I was just… curious, that’s all!”

Face turning red, he stammered out the words and hurried out of the shop.

I couldn’t help but laugh softly as I watched his retreating back.

* * *

Leaving the shop, Adolf pulled his cloak tightly around himself and walked briskly home.

He still hadn’t recovered from the shock.

Her words from yesterday kept echoing in his head.

“Because it would be too much pressure.”

After hearing that, he hadn’t been able to sleep a wink all night.

He’d rolled around in bed, clutching his head, replaying her words over and over—until finally, he’d gone to see her in the morning just to hear her reasoning in person.

But that explanation had been even more shocking.

“I’m just not the type to be attracted to money, fame, or appearance. That’s all.”

“I’m… a burden, huh.”

He let out a dry, helpless laugh, followed by a long sigh.

His steps grew slower. Shoulders slumped, Adolf trudged home, completely deflated.