SPWHC 18

Chapter 18

“Oh? No.”

Startled, I turned to look at Friedrich again. His pale cheek was clean now—he must’ve just wiped away his tears.

But the redness around his eyes, the trembling of his lashes—those couldn’t be hidden.

I stayed silent for a moment before saying quietly,
“I was just surprised that you cried.”

“…I didn’t cry.”

“Sorry for snapping at you.”

I forced a gentle tone. Friedrich looked at me with eyes full of sorrow.

Ah, damn it. Yeah, this one’s on me. How could I make a face that beautiful look that miserable? I felt like I ought to prostrate myself in apology.

“Your Highness, the royal physician has arrived.”

At that, I hurriedly took him to his room. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t deep—he’d only bled a little.

“I told you, I can barely take care of myself.”

Once the physician left, I sighed and said,
“You shouldn’t have touched broken glass with your bare hands.”

Then I remembered why he’d smashed the vase in the first place.

“…I apologize for showing such an unsightly display.”

His voice was pained, full of shame.

“I should’ve conducted myself with more restraint. I acted rashly.”

“Well… no. Anyone can lose their composure sometimes.”

He seemed so defeated that I deliberately softened my tone.

After a pause, he said quietly,
“Wouldn’t it be better for Duke Rommel to become Your Highness’s official husband instead of me?”

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“I’ve already been given to you, so it doesn’t matter in what capacity I serve.”

So he had overheard that conversation.

I frowned and shook my head.
“One husband is enough. I have no intention of taking a lover. I’ll reject the Duke’s proposal.”

“What if he sides with Prince Anton?”

I gave him a look that said, How do you even know about that?

Friedrich bit his lip and murmured,
“I do have ears, Your Highness.”

“Then Anton can have the throne, and I’ll just move to the countryside.”

“…”

He looked at me, his face still shadowed, as if he thought I was joking. Then, with a tortured voice, he whispered,
“All because of me…”

“Don’t kid yourself. This has nothing to do with you.”

I spoke firmly, afraid he’d start blaming himself. He flinched slightly.

“Let’s drop the subject. Duke Rommel becoming my lover? That’s never going to happen.”

“…”

“Be careful with your hand.”

I patted his shoulder lightly and stepped out.

In the hallway, maids were sweeping up the broken vase. Scattered among the shards were bits of flowers.

Did he pick those himself from the garden?

He must’ve put some effort into it. What a shame.

Feeling oddly guilty, I turned to Elsa.
“Send the prince a bouquet.”

Then I added, choosing the most striking flower from the mess,
“Roses.”

In the meantime, wedding preparations were moving along smoothly, and several sketches of wedding dresses had arrived.

But to me, they all looked the same.

“They’re all pretty,” I muttered, flipping through the designs. Each one was lovely—I couldn’t pick just one.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Elsa said sensibly. “There’s no rule saying this has to be your last wedding dress.”

I gave her an incredulous look.
“That’s a pretty grim thing to say before the wedding’s even happened.”

“Divorce isn’t the end of the world. And you never know what the future holds,” she replied, as if it were obvious.

Her expression clearly said she didn’t believe I’d stay loyal to one man forever.

“If not a divorce, you could just hold a new ceremony each time you take a lover,” she added.

“I do have a sense of dignity, you know.”

As I shook my head at her nonsense, I remembered—I still hadn’t replied to Joachim.

“Would a week make it seem like I thought long and hard about it?”

“You really don’t intend to take the Duke as your lover?” she asked, puzzled.

That conversation was already over in my mind. I nodded.

“If I make him my lover, no one will believe I’ve given up on the throne. Everyone—including the Duke—would assume I’m marrying Friedrich as part of some grand ‘policy of reconciliation.’”

To avoid that misunderstanding, I could never make Joachim my lover.

“Tell the Duke my decision, Elsa. Politely.”

“That’ll make it obvious you had someone else write it for you, Your Highness.”

I sighed. “Have you ever known me to care about that?”

Elsa conceded with a nod.

“So, which dress do you think is best?”

“Well, the first one—the mermaid line—shows off your toned figure, and the heart-shaped neckline highlights your long neck and collarbones beautifully. The organza fabric gives it a graceful, feminine air. The second, a bell-line dress—”

“No, no, I meant which one do you like best?”

“That’s for Your Highness to decide, based on my advice.”

Even an AI would pick one if I asked, I thought irritably. Elsa was more careful about meddling in my life than any AI could ever be.

“But if you had to pick just one?”

“Your taste matters most, Your Highness.”

She had the survival instincts of someone who’d served a temperamental royal for years. No wonder she’d lasted this long.

“Or,” she added, “you could ask your fiancé for his opinion.”

“Good idea.”

I got up right away and headed for Friedrich’s room.

“What’s the prince been doing lately?” I asked along the way.

“Mostly reading or taking walks. He’s recently developed an interest in gardening, I hear.”

He really did seem to have an easier life than me. I was spending every day buried in the royal library while he was out tending flowers!

That royal librarian is a tough one, I thought.

If I tried to jump straight into the restricted section, it’d look suspicious. Better to pretend I’d just become interested in books.

After spending some time with the public shelves, I could request access to the forbidden ones without raising eyebrows.

Maybe I’ll even find some clues in the regular books.

By then, I’d reached Friedrich’s door.

As usual, I didn’t bother knocking before walking in.

He was sitting by the window, reading. The day was bright, and the window stood open.

A breeze came in, stirring the blue drapes and the white inner curtains in graceful waves.

Friedrich’s hair fluttered lightly between them.

For a moment, I couldn’t look away.

This isn’t a scene—it’s a photo shoot.

“Your Highness?”

Sensing me, he quickly closed the book and stood. The bandage on his hand was still visible.

I went right up to him and took his hand without hesitation.
“How’s your hand?”

“Ah…”

He flinched slightly before replying,
“It’s almost healed now.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Wh-what brings you here…?”

“Oh, did I interrupt your reading?”

When I recalled how focused he’d looked earlier, I asked lightly, and he shook his head hastily.

“I only wished to make sure nothing had happened to you, Your Highness.”

“Nothing at all. I just need a favor.”

“Your command, please.”

Ah—when he says it that solemnly, it makes what I’m about to say feel ridiculous.

“The wedding dress sketches came in, but they’re all too pretty—I can’t choose.”

I awkwardly held out five sheets toward him.

He blinked, startled, and took them.

“My maids aren’t much help… Could you pick one for me?”

“M-me?” he stammered, staring at the papers in his hands.

“Can I really be trusted with something so… important…?”

“Don’t take it too seriously. I’ll hear your opinion, but I’ll probably look over them again later before deciding.”

“I’ll… do my best,” he said gravely.

I had no idea what he meant by that and just brushed it off—

Because something else in the room had just caught my eye.

“Wait… why is that still here?”