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Chapter 14
“…You brat. At least you could’ve not said it out loud. Hmph! I understand what you mean.”
Hendrik let out an awkward cough. Beside him, Queen Elizabeth’s cheeks were also slightly flushed.
“Very well. I won’t force it any further.”
As Franz slipped away under a convenient excuse, Elizabeth also seemed to concede reluctantly.
Having obtained the answer he wanted, Franz calmly took a sip of tea. Behind the teacup, the corners of his mouth curved faintly upward.
“Now that the meal is over, I’ll be going out with Franz. We have something important to discuss between brothers. Let’s go.”
Frederick placed a hand on Franz’s shoulder and gave him a meaningful look. It was a signal to leave the room.
What are you doing? Do you want to stay here and keep listening to the adults lecture you?
As expected, only my brother understands.
Receiving Frederick’s cue, Franz rose from the armchair.
“Excuse me.”
With a brief bow from Franz, the royal couple nodded, indicating they could leave.
Then someone stopped him just as he was turning away.
“Franz. Wait a moment. I need to speak with you.”
It was Aunt Sylvia.
“It’ll only take a moment.”
“Yes. Understood.”
Sylvia stood and headed toward the tea room terrace. Though Franz did not understand the reason, he followed without question.
“Franz, after you’re done, come up to my office.”
Frederick spoke.
“Alright.”
Though everyone looked slightly puzzled, they assumed Sylvia—who was especially fond of Franz—simply had something to discuss.
Standing face-to-face with him, Sylvia studied Franz in silence.
“Franz. Has anything been going on lately?”
“Nothing in particular. My business is doing well, and nothing unusual has happened. But your expression looks dark, Aunt. Is something wrong?”
Sylvia let out a long sigh and lowered her head slightly.
“It’s not that you need to marry immediately, but I think it’s time to at least let society know that you are looking for a bride.”
Her serious tone made Franz feel something was off.
Even at this point, the marriage talk should have died down, yet she seemed unusually persistent.
“Franz.”
Sylvia hesitated before continuing.
“Yes.”
“Well… the King of Altria is said to be bedridden and unable to move properly. According to the Marchioness, things inside the Altrian royal palace are becoming quite unstable. It seems his end may be near.”
Franz’s smile faded slowly at the completely unexpected news.
“If the Marchioness herself told you, then this isn’t baseless.”
Avoiding her gaze, Franz replied quietly.
“…Are you still unable to forget Chloé?”
Sylvia watched him carefully, concerned. Though unlikely, she couldn’t help worrying.
Three years ago, Chloé had betrayed Franz and married the King of Altria. With time, the matter had faded from gossip among nobles, but within the royal household, her name remained almost taboo.
At Sylvia’s cautious question, Franz let out a faint laugh.
It’s been a while since I’ve heard that name.
Meaning—he still remembered it.
The more intense the resentment, the clearer the memory tends to remain, but he had long since shaken off the idea that the past ruled the present.
“Nothing that happened with Chloé was good for me. Don’t worry—nothing like that will happen again.”
Franz looked at Sylvia calmly. There was not a trace of emotion in his eyes.
Sylvia relaxed at his composed demeanor and smiled softly.
“I was worrying over nothing. I just thought you should know.”
She believed Franz completely. Her concern was not for him, but for Chloé.
Chloé had borne a daughter during her brief three-year marriage to the King of Altria. With the king’s health failing, the political situation was uncertain. Even if neighboring politics aside, a widowed queen remarrying was not impossible, which made matters more complicated. No one could predict what a greedy woman like Chloé might do.
“If you’re fine with it, I’ll discuss potential brides with the queen,” Sylvia added.
“I’ll handle it myself.”
That was not the answer she had hoped for, but his expression suggested there was something already in his mind.
“Then you already have someone in mind,” Sylvia said with a knowing smile.
“I’m not sure.”
Franz neither confirmed nor denied.
Sylvia seemed satisfied even with the ambiguity. She nodded warmly.
“Very well. I trust your judgment.”
Franz bowed slightly and left the terrace.
* * *
When Franz entered the office, Frederick lowered the documents he was reading and removed his glasses.
“You came back quickly.”
“It wasn’t anything important.”
Franz collapsed onto the sofa and closed his eyes. The tiredness showed in the way he massaged the corners of his eyes.
“Why is everyone so obsessed with getting me married?”
Frederick chuckled and ignored the complaint.
“Mother is worried. Ever since that girl, she says you’ve let too many good noble ladies slip away. And since we’re on the topic…”
“Stop.”
Still leaning back with his eyes closed, Franz opened them and met Frederick’s gaze.
“That’s enough, brother. I just came from hearing the same thing again from Aunt Sylvia. I’ll handle it myself.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That the King of Altria is dying? And that they’re trying to use it as an excuse to find me a bride?”
“Oh, so you already heard from Aunt.”
Frederick nodded.
“You knew too?”
“Mm. I only found out recently. Even within the Altrian royal family they’re being very cautious. It looks like an announcement will be made soon. Father, I, and a few ministers are the only ones who know.”
“I see.”
Franz responded indifferently, as if it meant nothing. Frederick, however, looked at him with concern.
“You’re okay?”
“What’s there not to be okay about?”
There was no lingering attachment to his past relationship. At first, he had been furious with betrayal, but he had invested enough emotion to not regret it. He had completely burned away those feelings. The only lasting consequence was an inability to trust women.
“I thought maybe you still hadn’t gotten over her. That’s why you weren’t dating or marrying properly.”
Franz laughed as if it were absurd.
“It’s not pleasant to talk about Chloé, but why would I care about a woman who stabbed me in the back and left?”
Frederick looked momentarily flustered.
“What you said about love earlier—did you mean it?”
“Why is that so surprising? I meant I want to marry someone I truly care about. And it’s also true I don’t intend to marry yet. Anyway, sorry for making you worry.”
“It’s fine, Franz. I just want you to live your life fully.”
Franz nodded and stood up. Frederick asked,
“You’re staying the night?”
Franz nodded as if it were obvious.
* * *
Prince Frederick’s daily routine began with early morning physical training. He practiced swordsmanship or played polo with his knights.
In Lapland, there were royal guards, a knight order, and the army protecting the royal family. Among them, the royal guard was the most elite, but the crown prince’s guard was not far behind.
Frederick regularly played polo with his guard to maintain fitness. He believed mounted games improved not only strength but also combat skills and teamwork.
Once a week, the king’s guard would play against the crown prince’s guard. Today, Franz would join the king’s guard.
Dressed in a white uniform, Frederick warmed up on the field when Franz appeared behind him, walking casually. A groom followed beside him holding the reins of the polo pony Franz would ride.
Dressed in a sharply tailored blue uniform, Franz looked more imposing than usual.
“How are you feeling?”
Even at this early hour, the stadium was flooded with morning sunlight. Not the pale light of dawn, but a bright, piercing sun—something rare.
“You seem unusually cheerful for early morning, Your Highness,” Franz said.
“I’m just happy to exercise with my younger brother after a while.”
“Exercise? You said we were just going to ride horses after a long time.”
How is this even horseback riding?
