MCFLS 21

Chapter 21

Adrienne moved her feet busily to the lively, rapid dance tune. The hem of her dress fluttered over the mismatched tiles.

What am I even doing right now?

She had been moving as if entrusting her body to the music when the thought suddenly struck her.

She only meant to slip away quietly, chat with Reed for a bit, and come back….

“Have you been well?”

Why on earth was she dancing with the prince? And right in the middle of the floor, no less?

Adrienne looked at the prince—the very cause of this situation.

The prince, elegant from head to toe, smiled gently.

The prince, with the royal family’s signature rich golden hair and fresh green eyes like a summer forest, looked more mature than he had on that day years ago.

“Yes, Your Highness. It’s an honor to see you again.”

“You found your way well today.”

“…”

Inside the words today, it was clear he meant “unlike that day.”

The day she first visited the imperial palace with her father—her first time meeting Prince Lionel—she had gotten lost in the garden.

“Yes, fortunately today.”

Momentarily flustered, Adrienne forced herself to respond calmly. She even managed a faint, composed smile.

In truth, the waterfall garden of Solanité Palace was the largest in the empire. Surely she wasn’t the only person who ever got lost in that vast place.

Ddan-da-dan.

As she spun to the rhythm, Adrienne suddenly froze.

Just a few steps away stood Cyril. The princess, his partner, was also turning lightly.

But Cyril was not looking at the princess—he was looking at Adrienne. Perhaps because of the chandelier light, his eyes appeared an even deeper gold than usual.

What? Why are you staring at me?

When Adrienne slightly creased her eyes, Cyril raised a handsome eyebrow. He clearly understood the meaning behind her frown.

The momentary encounter ended quickly, Cyril’s expression vanished again, but Adrienne missed it as she turned back to her place.

“Do you not cry so much anymore?”

What is with him?

Before she could linger on Cyril, Lionel pulled her attention back. The unexpected jab nearly made her misstep, but she barely managed to keep dancing.

If she didn’t have naturally sharp reflexes, she surely would’ve fallen.

Lionel gently pulled her arm and smiled.

“Startled? I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“…You said you’d keep it a secret.”

“A promise to you is a promise, and I just spoke to you alone. So the secret still stands.”

Lionel smiled with his eyes as if to say, What part of that is wrong?

Even if she wanted to argue, there was no flaw in the prince’s words.

‘Why are you crying?’

‘…I got lost.’

‘Did your friend Cyril abandon you?’

‘No, no. It’s just….’

It hadn’t been a grand story.

She got lost in the enormous garden, and with no one in sight, she felt miserable. Feeling miserable made her think of Cyril, and the sadness she’d been suppressing burst out, making her cry and call out for him.

Cyril is such an idiot… he doesn’t know anything…

And that was when Prince Lionel appeared.

To think that the prince who had smiled kindly and handed her a flower that day was now teasing her—unbelievable.

And on top of that, the prince’s younger sister was dancing with Cyril. Truly unbelievable.

“Mademoiselle Cassinel.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“You likely know already, but my sister was ill for a long time. She’s better now, but not fully.”

While Adrienne was still trying to process the strange turn of fate, Lionel brought up his sister.

The princess, wearing a face full of bliss as she danced with Cyril, passed by them.

Her complexion was less pale than colorless, her limbs so slender she looked as if she might collapse at any moment. It was clear Lionel spoke the truth.

Seeing where Adrienne’s eyes drifted, Lionel subtly turned his body to give her a clearer view. Even then, he remained impeccably graceful—truly a prince by nature.

“She gets jealous easily. Sometimes she believes that even what she can’t have will become hers if she begs hard enough.”

“…I cannot fathom why you’re telling me this, Your Highness.”

“I think you might have a hard time soon.”

“What do you—”

His gentle voice gave her something impossible to decipher, but she didn’t get the chance to ask. The dance called for another turn.

Even while Adrienne failed to hide her confusion, her body moved diligently.

Lionel, who had caused her confusion and yet looked thoroughly composed on his own, seemed to smile faintly.

“It was good to see you again, Mademoiselle Cassinel.”

Ironically, the music ended just as they returned to their spot.

Before she could even ask what he meant, people approached.

“Next—”

Lionel’s last words, spoken hesitantly, were drowned out as the crowd swept in and pushed him away.

Adrienne stared blankly at his retreating figure.

Never mind being glad to see him—what was all that supposed to mean…?

Putting everything together, it sounded as though she would suffer because of the jealous princess.

There was no need to ask what the princess coveted—it was surely Cyril.

Something she can’t have…?

If, as rumors said, the two were to be engaged, then the princess would have Cyril.

By then, the only thing she couldn’t have would be… the memories of the past.

But such things could neither be given willingly nor hold much meaning for her—they weren’t hers to begin with.

This makes no sense…

Everything was impossible to grasp.

Not only the idea that she would suffer because of the princess, but also why the prince felt the need to warn her directly.

Leaving the incomprehensible words behind, Adrienne stepped off the floor entirely.

Laura was being escorted by another gentleman, so there was no need to return to the Countess of Blois’s side.

Reed is caught too, huh.

She thought she’d go to the most comfortable of the twins, but Reed wasn’t alone either. A brave young lady had begun the line, and a queue of hopefuls trailed behind.

“M-Mademoiselle Cassinel?”

Adrienne soon realized she herself had a line of waiting young men forming behind her.

At times like this, the best strategy was to escape before things got more troublesome.

She hadn’t enjoyed the ball, but she had attended faithfully with a chaperone—she had fulfilled her obligations.

And with the atmosphere already lively, who would notice if she slipped away for a bit?

After offering a polite excuse with a smile, Adrienne left the hall.

The stares that followed were far too persistent.

Only after she had stepped completely outside the palace and out of the reach of all those eyes could she finally breathe.

…Footsteps.

As she wondered how to pass the time, the sound of boots reached her ears.

Unhidden and direct, the steady noise only grew louder, as if insisting on announcing its presence.

Who’s the persistent fool this time?

She had purposely come somewhere quiet—no one should have business here.

Cursing internally, Adrienne slipped behind a large column. This should be enough for him to take a hint—or so she thought.

Step. Step.

But contrary to her hopes, the sound drew closer. Even a shadow now stretched past the column.

Please just walk straight past…

Ignoring her desperate wish, the footsteps stopped right beside her. Whoever it was clearly lacked even a grain of common sense.

Adrienne scowled, then barely managed to smooth her expression, readying a pleasant smile.

And just as she stepped forward—

“I always tell you.”

A familiar voice sounded above her head.

Adrienne instinctively looked up.

“You’re terrible at hide-and-seek.”

Golden eyes—so like the metal itself—looked directly down at her.

Cyril, her childhood friend who had always volunteered to be the seeker for her sake, had found her.

The path leading to the garden was quiet. It was only natural—every light in the world seemed to be gathered inside that splendid palace.

Their shadows merged on the long row of trees lining the path.

Adrienne glanced at Cyril’s shadow—much longer than hers—then turned her head.

Undeniably handsome Cyril came into view. His profile, shining under the moonlight with his black hair gleaming, seemed almost unreal.

No wonder everyone wants a chance to get close to him…

Judging by his face alone, she could somewhat understand their motives.

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

Just as she was admiring his beauty anew, Cyril—who had been walking in silence—spoke abruptly.

“Me?”

“You should probably practice dancing more. Your steps were a mess.”

Any pleasant memories of the dance vanished instantly at his words.

With an exasperated snort, Adrienne grumbled:

“It’s not like I dance often. Considering that, I did fine.”

“The Viscountess de Parthé might have something to say about that.”

“…Sure. Must be nice to be so good at dancing.”

Even if she wanted to deny it, it was true she’d almost tripped from the prince’s sudden attack.

When did you even see that…?

Adrienne admitted defeat cleanly.