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Chapter : 19
Hatz spoke in a calm voice, yet what he said was shocking.
“Because of the Duke?”
“Well… something like that.”
Hatz himself, the person concerned, remained expressionless, showing no change in emotion, but Ron and Frisia were flustered. Could it be that Duke Del, who had always seemed perfect, had committed some serious wrong against Hatz? As they tilted their heads in confusion, a knock sounded.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
At Hatz’s command, the butler opened the door. But when he saw Frisia, he froze mid-step, startled, just as he was entering the study.
Wait—that’s a yellow envelope.
“A letter?”
“Ah, n-no. Your Highness, this is, um, that is…”
“Don’t tell me it’s that Jennifer again?”
“No, it’s not! You’re mistaken! This is…!”
Frisia quickly stepped forward and snatched the letter from the butler’s hands.
As expected. The sender was Jennifer. Who on earth was she? Jennifer?
Frisia turned her head to look at Hatz. He avoided her gaze. After glancing briefly at the butler, Hatz picked up his pen again.
“Burn it.”
Scratch, scratch. As if nothing were amiss, Hatz calmly resumed signing documents.
“Y-yes! I’m sorry!”
At his words, the butler hurriedly took the letter from Frisia’s hand and left the study.
Last time he tore it to shreds without mercy, and this time he was telling them to burn it? Was that really okay?
“Aren’t you curious about what the letter says?”
“Not at all.”
“Who is Jennifer?”
“I don’t know.”
“Someone you don’t know keeps sending you letters?”
At Frisia’s irritated tone, Hatz stopped signing and stood up.
“Are you jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous?”
“Then why do you keep asking?”
“I’m just curious.”
At her words, Hatz lifted one corner of his mouth in a smile.
“You don’t need to be jealous. Like I said before, the only woman in my life is you.”
It’s not jealousy! Faced with Hatz’s shameless confidence, Frisia was left speechless. In the meantime, he left the study, saying he would disinfect his injured hand.
And the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Every day, the butler burned letters in one corner of the garden. Letters from Jennifer kept arriving without pause—several at a time. Then, a little over a week later, the butler suddenly came to Frisia’s room.
“Excuse me, Your Highness.”
“What is it? Aren’t you burning letters today?”
“Y-you were watching?”
“Of course. Every morning, the smell of burning paper drifted up to my window.”
“I apologize.”
The butler avoided her gaze awkwardly, and Frisia noticed the envelope in his hand.
“What’s that? It’s not yellow, so it doesn’t look like it’s from Jennifer.”
“It’s a letter sent by the Duke.”
The butler handed Frisia a dark, black-rose-colored envelope.
It was the letter she had been waiting for. Frisia took it and opened it. An invitation from Duke Del—no, more precisely, a ticket to the imperial palace ball.
“Call Ron.”
“Yes, understood.”
After the butler left the room, Frisia unfolded the note enclosed with the invitation.
“Ten o’clock sharp tonight. Blue-check pocket square.”
Along with the short note were two masquerade ball tickets.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
Ron entered the room, dressed neatly in his going-out clothes. It was the day he was supposed to go to the far eastern end for the estate renovations.
“Ron, we’ll have to postpone going to the estate.”
“What’s going on?”
“We’re going here tomorrow night.”
“…?”
Ron stared at the envelope Frisia handed him in confusion. After checking its contents, his face twisted instantly. It was only natural—the location of the ball was the imperial palace.
“Your Highness, have you lost your mind?”
“No.”
“You’re not insane, and yet you’re saying you’ll go there?”
“Yes.”
“Do you even know what you’re saying right now?”
“I know very well.”
“Haa…”
Ron sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead.
“Where did you get this invitation?”
“I asked the Duke last time he came.”
“Why on earth!?”
Ron’s voice rose slightly, as if he were losing control. Frisia stood straight and met his gaze directly.
“Ron, I’m going to meet my stepmother.”
“…”
Ron’s expression darkened rapidly. He spoke in a low voice.
“She’s the one who tried to kill you.”
“I know.”
“And you’re saying you’ll deliberately go meet someone like that?”
“That’s exactly why I’m meeting her.”
“The ball is being held at the imperial palace.”
“I know.”
Truly, it was a place she never wanted to go. A place she thought she would never return to. But Frisia had already resolved herself. From the moment she asked Duke Del to arrange a meeting with her stepmother, she had known she would need this much resolve.
Considering the Empress’s schedule, her stepmother would hardly ever leave the palace. Even if she did, it would be impossible to meet her. Soldiers would surely surround her carriage. So if there was any chance to meet her, Frisia had to go—no matter where it was.
Ron simply stared at Frisia.
“Even if you don’t go, I’ll go meet her.”
“…”
Frisia had never truly been alone in the palace. She had her mother, and Ron was with her. Going alone to a place without her mother, and without Ron, was still frightening. But now, she could no longer avoid it.
As he looked at Frisia, Ron slipped the invitation into his jacket. He frowned and shot her a sideways glance.
“I feel really betrayed.”
“What?”
“The fact that you even thought of going there without me—it’s absurd.”
“No, why are you making that face…?”
“Because I hate it.”
“Why do you hate it?”
Frisia stared at Ron incredulously.
“Do you think you’re the only one who hates the imperial palace?”
“…”
At Ron’s words, she fell silent. She had completely forgotten—forgotten about the things that had stressed Ron.
The reason was simple: Vivian. Vivian, who had always coveted Frisia’s things, had even insisted that she wanted Ron too. No matter how often Ron said he wasn’t an object, she wouldn’t listen. Vivian had not only chased after Frisia relentlessly—she had pursued Ron just as persistently.
She had offered him money, promised to give him anything he wanted, begging him to become her bodyguard… If Frisia hadn’t been engaged, Vivian might have done anything to take Ron for herself.
“Don’t forget the oath I made. I didn’t make it lightly. I’ll stay by your side until the day I die.”
“Ron…”
“Even if Your Highness does something crazy that I can’t understand, I’ll follow you.”
“When have I ever done something crazy?”
“For example.”
“Tch.”
Frisia pouted slightly, and Ron smiled at her warmly.
“Don’t ever say again that you’ll go to a place like that without me. You’re not alone. And I won’t leave you alone.”
“Ron…”
“So, that said.”
“Hm?”
“What about the young duke?”
What was he talking about all of a sudden?
“When I first saw the engagement contract, I thought it was the best option and suggested we get compensation, but…”
“So?”
“The situation’s changed. The young duke likes you.”
“What?”
Frisia stared at Ron in disbelief. The Frisia Hatz had met as a child wasn’t her. The pink angel who had comforted him when he was drowning in sorrow was the real Frisia. And Hatz didn’t even seem to remember that meeting anymore…
“Ron, that’s not true. Hatz doesn’t remember things like that anymore.”
“But what if he really does like you?”
“Why would he? I said no!”
Despite Frisia’s vehement denial, Ron didn’t let go of his suspicious look.
“You remember when we went to the night market, right?”
“Yes.”
“That was actually the young duke’s idea.”
She knew. Ron had said he’d heard about the night market and gotten permission from Hatz to go. She had gone along with it, but she knew—she’d overheard their conversation.
“At that time, the young duke knew. That leaving the estate would put you in danger.”
“…Since when did he know? And what does that matter?”
“Don’t you see? He didn’t want to put you in danger, but since you wanted to go out so badly, he let you go anyway.”
“How is that not contradictory? If he didn’t want to put me in danger, he should never have let me go.”
Ron’s expression hardened.
“He gave in because you threw a tantrum.”
“I… did do that.”
“Well, I understand, since you were suddenly confined to the estate. Anyway, the young duke is—”
At that moment—
Bang!
The door suddenly flew open.
“Frisia!”
“…?!”
Ron and Frisia hurriedly turned toward the door. Hatz was standing there. Like people caught doing something wrong, the two of them flinched in surprise. Had he heard them? Frisia’s heart raced. Seeing their startled expressions, Hatz tilted his head slightly, his brow creasing.
“Why are you so surprised?”
“N-no, it’s nothing. What’s going on?”
“I’m here to eat.”
“….”
At Hatz’s anticlimactic answer, only the faint sound of breathing filled the room.
“Haa.”
Frisia led Hatz out of the room.
Ever since injuring his hand, Hatz seemed to have become strangely clingy, always looking for Frisia whenever it was time to eat. The swelling in his arm had gone down, and the pain seemed almost gone.
It felt like it should be healing by now… and yet, for some reason, the bandage on Hatz’s hand just kept getting bigger. She couldn’t understand it.
Ron is wrong. There’s no way this man, who keeps pestering me, likes me.
A few days later, Frisia arrived at the imperial palace masquerade ball with Ron. Grand music echoed endlessly in her ears.
Frisia wore a blonde wig. With masks covering their faces, she and Ron entered the palace. Just showing the invitation prepared by Duke Del at the entrance granted them free passage straight to the center of the ballroom. They had already been searching for several tens of minutes for a man wearing a blue-check pocket square on his chest.
People in dazzling dresses, holding wine glasses in one hand and wearing masks of all shapes and forms, swirled around them. With what seemed like over a hundred people, it wasn’t easy to find one person. The ballroom was far more crowded than expected.
‘I don’t see him. I can’t find him.’
‘Don’t worry, Your Highness. It’s almost ten o’clock, so he’ll appear soon.’
‘What if we can’t find him?’
‘He’ll find us.’
Ron’s quiet whisper proved correct. As they cautiously scanned their surroundings to avoid suspicion, a man in a suit and mask suddenly appeared before them. He did nothing, simply gazing at Frisia and Ron from a short distance away. On his chest was a blue-check pocket square.
Frisia approached the man and showed him the note that had come with Duke Del’s invitation.
“Please follow me.”
The man gave a slight bow and guided them to the side of the stairs. They entered a long corridor next to the ballroom and soon stopped in front of a dark brown door. The man nodded slightly and gestured toward Frisia.
Frisia gripped the doorknob tightly and pushed. Through the slowly opening door, she saw the back of a woman wearing a splendid golden dress. Brown hair. Ron and the man stopped at the doorway, and Frisia stepped into the room.
Creak. The door closed. The woman turned toward Frisia. Frisia slowly removed her mask, and the woman did the same.
“How have you been, Stepmother?”
