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Chapter 12
During their three-legged race practice, Johan didn’t say anything until the second fall.
But after they fell a third time, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Emily, just being a fast runner doesn’t mean you’ll win this game. In fact, the better runner usually falls more often.”
Because Emily kept trying to surge ahead without matching Johan’s stride, the two of them kept tumbling down together.
“Sorry, Johan.”
Emily apologized, helping Johan back to his feet with a downcast expression.
“It’s more important not to fall—even if we run slowly.”
Even Johan, who adored Emily, couldn’t keep smiling after falling for the third time.
“Got it. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Emily clenched her fists, determined once more. She couldn’t afford to leave a blemish on her reputation by coming in last.
“To match our rhythm, maybe we should link arms.”
As if he’d been waiting for that suggestion, Johan immediately nodded.
“That makes sense. It’ll be easier to keep pace.”
“You should wrap your arm around my waist.”
“Yes, since I’m still short, that’s probably best.”
Johan replied playfully, and then shot a triumphant smile toward the second-floor window, where Killian was watching. Killian scowled when his eyes met Johan’s.
Time passed, and once they’d finally gotten their rhythm down and stopped falling, the training ended.
“Oh my gosh, Johan!”
Startled, Emily knelt in front of him.
“Your knee is bleeding! Why didn’t you say anything?”
Repeated falls had caused blood to soak through Johan’s pants.
He mumbled shyly in response.
“If I said I was hurt, I wouldn’t be able to spend more time with you.”
Emily couldn’t scold him after hearing that.
“If you get hurt, I won’t go anywhere—I’ll take care of you. So tell me right away next time.”
“Okay.”
Emily rolled up Johan’s pants and took a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe away the blood.
“The bleeding looks like it’s stopped. Let’s go back to the room and disinfect it.”
“Thank you. Can I keep the handkerchief?”
“Sure, I have plenty.”
When Johan glanced up at the second-floor window again, the curtain was drawn shut with a loud swoosh.
‘Teasing Uncle is way too fun.’
Suppressing his laughter, Johan grabbed Emily’s hand and walked up to the room with her.
The origin of the stolen handkerchief was like this.
When Killian returned from headquarters and arrived back at the estate, Johan was waiting for him in the dark hallway.
“Why are you standing there like that?”
“I was waiting for you, Uncle.”
Emerging silently from the shadows, Johan moved with a stealthiness no ordinary child would have.
“That’s unusual. You waited for me?”
“Yeah. I wanted to sleep early, but someone messed that up.”
‘Tch, caught already.’
To be fair, Killian hadn’t planned on stealing the handkerchief. He’d found it in the study, realized it belonged to Emily, and instinctively tucked it into his coat.
“What do you want?”
“Please return my handkerchief.”
Killian feigned ignorance.
“Handkerchief? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He’d locked it safely in a drawer at headquarters, using it like a good luck charm that brought him peace of mind during important tasks.
Johan puffed up his cheeks in frustration at Killian’s shamelessness.
“Oh? That’s how it’s gonna be? Fine, I see.”
“If you try anything stupid, you’ll regret it.”
Killian said coldly, voice dripping with intimidation.
“Hmph!”
Johan glared at him one last time before returning to his room.
After Johan disappeared into his room, Killian let out a quiet sigh.
“Haah… What am I even doing?”
Even he had to admit he was being incredibly childish over a kid.
Meanwhile, back in his own room, Johan flopped angrily onto his bed.
Teasing Killian was fun, sure, but more than that, Johan liked receiving affection from Emily.
That first handkerchief she gave him—it meant a lot.
“I know Uncle stole it.”
Johan stayed up all night thinking of how to get revenge.
The next morning, bleary-eyed Johan was slumped on the first-floor sofa when he saw Chili walking upstairs with a stack of letters.
“Chili!”
“Hmm?”
Chili looked around uncomfortably, hoping someone would save her. But there was no one.
“What is it?”
She reluctantly responded to Johan.
“Are those letters for Emily?”
“Yes, and?”
“I’ll deliver them to her.”
Without hesitation, Chili shook her head.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“If I lose one, I’ll be responsible.”
“Do I look like the kind of idiot who’d lose something like that?”
“That’s not the point. I just don’t think you’d help me for no reason.”
At her cold response, Johan’s eyes turned red.
“Chili… that really hurt me.”
“Ahh, why are you crying?”
Chili hadn’t interacted with Johan much before. If it were Alvin the butler, or Sézanne, or Roxy, they wouldn’t have fallen for such a ploy.
“I just want Emily to think well of me. Can’t you help me, please?”
Johan even pulled out his rare “big sister” strategy. Chili, defenseless against his puppy eyes and tears, gave in easily.
“Hmm… Fine. You can take them.”
“Thank you! You’re the best!”
“But if something goes wrong, I’m telling the butler it was your fault first.”
“Okay.”
Before handing over the letters, Chili sternly reminded him:
“I’m going to check whether they were delivered properly.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
Suddenly all composed, Johan took the bundle from her. Once in his room, he examined each envelope carefully.
“Invitations to parties, youth gatherings, the Royal Ascot… All useless junk.”
As he pushed the rest aside in disappointment, a pink envelope fell out.
“What’s this?”
Johan had good instincts. A rose-scented pink envelope clearly looked like a love letter.
In Vincent, a society open about romance, it wasn’t scandalous for even married individuals to receive such letters.
But the sender’s name was one even Johan recognized.
“Yes, this is it!”
Johan grinned wickedly.
A few days later, someone came to the Marquisate of Star.
Unaware, Emily was in the garden collecting flowers to decorate a vase—lisianthus, anemones, dahlias, didiscus. After arranging them just right, she smiled brightly, clearly pleased.
Crown Prince Lucius, who had come looking for her with a bouquet, saw her smiling and dropped his flowers.
In the face of that radiant smile, everything he’d prepared suddenly felt foolish.
Seeing Lucius frozen, Butler Alvin clicked his tongue and went to Emily.
“Milady, His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived.”
“The Crown Prince?!”
Emily’s eyes widened in shock. Sure enough, behind her stood the prince, waving shyly.
“You didn’t know? He said he came in response to your invitation…”
Emily muttered under her breath, just loud enough that Lucius wouldn’t hear.
“How would I even know the Crown Prince to invite him?”
“What? Then… are you saying His Highness lied?”
Rubbing her temple, Emily groaned in frustration.
“Regardless, a distinguished guest has arrived. Please bring out tea.”
“Yes, Milady.”
Alvin nodded, looking just as uneasy.
Putting on a smile, Emily bowed to greet Lucius. He slowly approached, and up close, she realized why he seemed familiar.
“Hmm… Have we met before?”
She instantly regretted the line—it sounded like such a cliché pick-up.
But Lucius beamed with joy, thrilled that she remembered.
“We met at the banquet. By the stairs near the imperial garden.”
Emily’s face went pale as the memory returned.
“Oh… I had no idea you were the Crown Prince…”
Back then, she’d thought he was just a handsome but slightly odd young man.
“I was terribly rude.”
“No, if anything, I should apologize.”
They continued chatting as they moved to the tea table in the garden’s greenhouse. Alvin set the table and then walked away very slowly.
Before exiting, he gave Emily a questioning look:
‘Should I leave completely, or stand here like furniture?’
‘Just go.’
Emily subtly shook her head. Even that small gesture mesmerized Lucius.
Unlike at the party, Emily now had her hair braided to one side, wore a light dress, and had minimal makeup. Her fair, glowing face made her look like a fairy-tale angel.
Once Alvin was gone, Emily spoke.
“Ahem. So, Your Highness, you said you received my invitation?”
Lucius, jolted back to reality, answered with a confused look.
“Yes. Didn’t you reply to my letter?”
“You wrote me a letter?”
Emily looked genuinely puzzled. Only then did Lucius realize something was wrong.
“Someone must have played a trick.”
“That’s… a strange prank. May I ask what the letter said?”
Lucius’s face flushed.
It wasn’t something he could say aloud, so he kept it in his head:
‘I don’t even know who you are, but I felt drawn to you at first sight. I’d like to get to know you better.’
