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Chapter : 11
Their eyes met—his expression cold.
“Whether you want it or not, as long as you’re my fiancée, you’ll always stand above others.”
“……”
His voice was icy, as if wrapped in frost. Before Frisia could even respond, Harts said what he wanted to say and turned his head back toward the window.
That was basically a threat! Emitting such a dark aura and saying something like that—how was that anything else?
Frisia sank into thought. Come to think of it, Harts probably had never been ignored by anyone in his life. Born with a silver spoon—no, a whole diamond spoon set—who would dare look down on a man like him?
Suddenly, another thought crossed her mind: perhaps his father, Emperor Tail, had been the one with the “silver spoon.” Growing up in an imperial family that had honor but no real power, he must have spent his childhood under constant pressure. Maybe that was why he had wanted power at any cost. Even so, that didn’t justify using her mother…….
What was it about him that her mother had loved? How much did she have to love someone to give everything, even while feeling used? In the end, it hadn’t even worked out.
“Phew……”
Frisia let out a quiet sigh and closed her eyes. The corset tightened painfully around her chest, making it hard to breathe, and fatigue washed over her. Just as her urge to rip off the dress reached its limit, they arrived at the estate. A familiar face was waiting.
“Welcome back, Your Highness.”
Ron, who had been waiting by the carriage, placed a hand on his chest and bowed. Frisia stepped down from the carriage with the brightest smile she’d worn all day.
It was only natural. She had never been apart from Ron for this long before, so she was genuinely happy to see him.
“Ron!”
She spread her arms wide and moved to hug him—
“…Huh?!”
Her body didn’t move forward. What? Startled, she turned back when she felt her dress being tugged. Harts was holding the hem of her dress.
“…What are you doing?”
“……”
At her words, Harts hastily let go. Even he seemed surprised—this had been a completely unconscious action.
“I’d like you to remember that you’re my fiancée.”
Looking a little awkward, Harts hurried inside.
What was I even trying to do? I was just going to hug him.
Frisia pouted and shrugged. Watching the scene, Ron straightened and smiled gently.
“You two seem to have gotten quite close while I was gone?”
“No! How do you figure that?”
She cut him off firmly.
As if denying it with her whole body, her eyes widened. With that vehement denial, the two of them went inside together.
“Why did you come back so late? It would’ve been nice to go to the party together.”
“The fire incident took a while to deal with.”
“Oh! Right—Ron, you!”
“Yes?”
As they passed through the lobby and headed up to the second floor, Frisia stopped and grabbed Ron’s arm. An issue she’d almost forgotten suddenly came back to her.
“What happened?”
“To what?”
Ron looked confused.
“This place—here. It’s only thirty minutes from the imperial palace!”
“Ah, so you finally noticed.”
“Of course I noticed! Do you think I’m stupid?”
“I thought you hadn’t. You don’t really know the areas outside the palace, Your Highness.”
“Well… that’s true, but still.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, her voice softening. Ron looked down at her for a moment; her feelings were written plainly on her face.
He led her to a second-floor window and pointed toward the mountains.
“It’s a bit dark, but do you see that mountain over there?”
“I saw it during the day. You said the palace is beyond it.”
“That mountain divides the empire into western and eastern territories.”
“Then this is the eastern territory? Even though it’s so close to the palace?”
“Yes. It’s close, but the eastern villages feel very different from the west. People rarely go back and forth. You never crossed the mountain for exhibitions, either.”
“That’s true…….”
The exhibition hall had been on the eastern outskirts—on the complete opposite side of the mountain from the palace.
“It’s only a mountain apart, but there’s an invisible wall between east and west. Westerners rarely come east, and easterners rarely cross the mountain. So you don’t need to worry.”
“……”
Frisia stared blankly at the moonlit mountain. She had wanted to go far away if possible, so she couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed. If only her house hadn’t burned down, she could have lived more comfortably. Still, at least the mountain blocked the view of the palace.
“More importantly, how was the party today? Nothing happened, right?”
“Well… Harts announced our engagement.”
“Out of the blue?”
“Yeah, and then……”
She grabbed Ron’s arm to continue, but a butler came down from the fourth floor.
“Pardon me for interrupting. Sir Ron, the young duke is looking for you.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
The butler bowed deeply and remained motionless. It looked like he’d stay there forever unless Ron followed him. Reluctantly, Frisia let go of Ron’s arm.
“My story can wait. Go to Harts.”
“You must be tired too, Your Highness. Please rest for today.”
“Okay, okay.”
Ron followed the butler up the stairs. Watching them, Frisia suddenly felt suspicious. What business could Harts have with Ron the moment he returned? Even if he was her fiancé, did he really need to concern himself with her personal guard knight?
She’d always let it slide before, but today she wanted to find out. What on earth were those two talking about?
Her eyes sparkled. Quietly, she slipped off her shoes and handed them to the maids waiting outside her room on the second floor.
“Your Highness…….”
Standing barefoot and handing over her shoes—it was far beyond common sense. The maids were flustered. One hurried over with indoor slippers, but Frisia waved her hands quickly.
“Shh. Stay put. Don’t follow me.”
Lifting the hem of her dress, she crept up the stairs. Third floor, fourth floor…… Luckily, it was late, and she wasn’t caught. Aside from the maids waiting for her, most of the servants had already returned to the annex.
By the time she reached the fourth floor, the estate was eerily quiet. She looked down the hallway. Light was leaking from Harts’s study at the very end. Carefully, she approached the door, knelt on the floor, and pressed her face close to the narrow gap of the half-closed door.
“Is there anything you lack?”
It was Harts’s curt voice. She rolled her eyes, scanning the room. Harts sat behind a wide desk, stacks of documents piled high, pen in hand. Ron stood before him, with the butler slightly behind.
“Everything is sufficient. Thanks to you, the construction should proceed without issues. I sincerely appreciate it.”
“I think Frisia should be the one thanking me.”
“I’ll inform Her Highness tomorrow.”
At Ron’s words, Harts paused his pen.
“That’s fine.”
He glanced at the document he’d been working on and gave a brief reply.
“But if you hadn’t quickly recovered the deed to the house that burned down……”
“It was nothing.”
“If Her Highness knew how long it usually takes to verify and retrieve burned documents, she’d be incredibly grateful. Isn’t that to your benefit, sir?”
“There’s no need to calculate benefits for something done for my fiancée.”
“…I see.”
After replying, Ron simply looked at Harts. His head tilted slightly to one side—a habit he had when thinking seriously. Listening, Frisia closed her eyes briefly and opened them again.
The house deed burned too…… Wow. The aftermath of grilling pork belly was no joke.
She’d learned her lesson—fires really need to be put out properly. She’d assumed Ron had the deed safely…… She felt stupid. At this point, she felt like nothing but a burden.
The fire…… Even if it had been caused by a coincidental gust of wind, she felt responsible. And Ron and Harts were the ones cleaning up after it.
‘Harts…….’
She stared at him.
What on earth was that man thinking? Why was he helping her so much? Even if she was his fiancée, this was a forced engagement. If he wanted, he could break it off and discard her at any time…….
“So, how much longer will it take to finish organizing the estate?”
Harts signed the documents naturally as he asked. Ron fell silent, thinking. There was a reason he’d deliberately gone to a distant estate, leaving his master behind. He’d told Frisia it was for renovations—but that wasn’t the real reason. He’d gone to investigate the fire.
An incident that happened immediately after leaving the palace. When they returned to look into it, it turned out to be arson—bribing even the guards.
It was clearly a calculated attack targeting Frisia, timed precisely for when he was away. And the culprit was…….
‘This is frustrating!’
Watching Ron lost in thought and Harts silently working through paperwork, Frisia stifled a yawn. Her knees, still on the floor, were starting to ache.
Let’s just go to bed. I won’t hear anything else anyway.
Just as she began to stand, Ron broke the silence.
“It will take quite a while to finish. More importantly……”
He changed the subject.
“I heard you announced the engagement today.”
“I did. I’m planning to host a party.”
“An engagement party?”
Knowing that Her Highness’s life was in danger—and still holding a party? Or was it deliberate, to protect Frisia completely……?
Ron looked at Harts.
“Yes. So.”
“Yes, sir.”
“She doesn’t seem very interested in dresses.”
“…Ah.”
An unexpected question. A flicker of discomfort crossed Ron’s face.
“She wanted to go to the exhibition, but once there, she didn’t seem interested in the clothes.”
“…Is that so.”
Of course Frisia wouldn’t care about the clothes. What she hated most were dresses. She loathed how corsets squeezed her body, making it hard to breathe. Other women tightened them endlessly just to make their waists look slimmer.
“What kind of clothes does Frisia like?”
“That would be……”
“For the engagement party, at least, I intend to prepare a dress that suits her tastes. Tell me.”
“Well…….”
Seeing Ron hesitate, Harts set his pen down with a tap and crossed his arms, looking at him. After a moment’s thought, Ron met his gaze and spoke.
“Her Highness likes pajamas the most.”
For something he’d pondered over, Ron’s tone was remarkably calm. Frisia clutched her head.
Ron! Why would you say that?! It’s true—I do like pajamas the most. But still! There’s a reason! As long as it’s not a corset or a tight dress, I’d even be fine with maid clothes or attendant uniforms!
She screamed internally as embarrassment flooded over her. Unaware of her turmoil, Harts frowned.
“Pajamas?”
“Yes.”
“Are you joking with me? At this hour?”
“No. She truly likes pajamas.”
“…Is she that lazy?”
“No. That’s not the reason.”
Harts looked unconvinced, as if he’d already concluded pajamas equaled laziness. In a place where people never wore pajamas outside of bed, the misunderstanding was understandable. But if it wasn’t laziness, then why?
After thinking for a while without reaching a conclusion, Harts uncrossed his arms and stood. As he removed his uniform jacket, the butler quickly stepped forward to take it.
“A night market will open in a few days.”
“A night market?”
“A small festival held once every three months.”
“Yes.”
“Take Frisia there.”
At his words, Frisia clapped both hands over her mouth.
A festival? He said festival, didn’t he?!
She almost screamed with joy. Her cheeks flushed bright red. Then, through the open door, Harts’s voice drifted out once more.
“But there’s a condition.”
