TFAR 07

 There’s Something Special About Astel

As soon as the servant finished guiding him to the annex room and closed the door, Lucas’s expression twisted into a deep frown.

“To treat guests like this in such a prosperous territory.”

The room contained only the bare minimum of furniture, all of it covered in white cloth as if it hadn’t been used in ages. Worse still, there was no cheap wine—customary even for modest guests—only a basket with water and bread.

“I say this every time, but you could simply reveal your identity, Your Highness.”

“Then the lord would make such a fuss that I wouldn’t get any sleep!”

It was a problem that would vanish the moment he stopped wandering and returned to his duties as crown prince, but Cedric gave up pressing the matter.

“In any case, once I return to the imperial palace, this kind of freedom will be over.”

When Lucas first announced he would travel the continent to train himself, the Emperor had praised it as a manly decision. But when that journey stretched to six full years, the order to return had become firm.

“Your Highness is the empire’s only—”

“I know my duty. When I saw Father last year, he looked much thinner.”

Lucas was the Emperor’s precious son, born late in life. As Lucas grew, the Emperor aged, and his health had deteriorated to the point where governance was becoming difficult.

“Once I return to the palace, my fate will likely be decided.”

The Emperor was already contemplating abdication. His intention was to protect Lucas as much as possible while he still lived and raise him into a worthy emperor.

“As promised, once you finish scouting Astel, you must return to the capital immediately.”

“…I said I understand.”

Lucas answered irritably and turned away. Cedric hurried to remove the cloths and prepare the bed.

“Your Highness, aren’t you hungry? At least there’s bread and water.”

“You eat it.”

Lucas dropped onto the bed with a sullen face. Things were already going differently from the reunion with his fiancée that he had imagined.

“They say when a woman’s fiancé returns from afar, she runs out barefoot to greet him, too happy to care about decorum.”

“Then you should have revealed who you were.”

“Hmph.”

Lucas let out a petulant sound and lay back on the bed. Serena hadn’t done anything at all, yet he was the one sulking.

At sixteen, when he’d gone through the engagement ceremony, what he’d felt was rage and humiliation.

But during his years of wandering, Serena had become his goal—his ideal. Now that he had grown to the point where there was no one left to challenge him, it was time to honor the betrothal.

Your Highness, how did you become so strong…?

In his imagination, Serena whispered shyly with unforgettable blue eyes. She was twenty-four this year—how long must she have waited for their engagement to be fulfilled?

If the long wait had wounded her heart, he intended to soothe her himself.

“As if.”

He muttered so quietly no one could hear. Judging by the Astel territory he’d seen from the hill, it was easy enough to guess how Serena had been living.

At the very least, she hadn’t spent the years crying over the fiancé who had vanished.

“I didn’t expect tears—but surrounding me with surveillance still leaves a bad taste.”

“Yes. Two—no, three people appear to be watching us. It seems we’ve aroused suspicion.”

“Well, that suspicion will be cleared up tomorrow.”

His irritation toward her faded quickly. Six years had passed, and in that time Serena had become a fixed point in his heart—like a compass.

Every grueling training session and exhausting journey had been endured by imagining himself standing proudly beside her.

“Tch.”

He hadn’t even seen her yet, so there was no way of knowing whether she’d forgotten him. But after witnessing Astel’s dazzling nightscape, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d thought of him at all.

“…That, I can’t forgive.”

Lucas glared sharply into empty space. He had never once forgotten Serena. He’d simply assumed she felt the same—and the thought that she might not made his chest boil with anger that night.

* * *

Unlike most noble ladies, Serena’s mornings began early.

It was customary for noblewomen to remain in bed until late morning and even take meals there—but Serena had abolished that practice the moment she arrived in Astel.

“Good morning, my lady.”

“Morning, Anna.”

As always, Serena washed her face briskly on her own and dried it. She wore a simple dress she favored, without a single piece of jewelry, yet her youthful beauty at twenty looked fresh and vibrant.

“Good morning, Lady Serena.”

Once she finished her preparations, Peter, the head steward, greeted her. It marked the start of Astel’s workday.

Today, however, her schedule was less pleasant. Nothing else could be done until last night’s suspicious guests were dealt with.

“Was there any trouble overnight?”

“No. I personally kept watch and posted additional servants, but they never left their room.”

“Hm… that alone isn’t enough to draw conclusions.”

As Serena pondered, Anna busied herself with what she insisted was her duty—styling Serena’s hair. In practice, that meant tying it neatly into a high ponytail and fixing it with a pin, just as Serena liked.

“I agree. Until the outsiders are definitively gone, other matters must wait.”

Peter was right, but to Serena—who poured her passion into Astel’s growth day and night—it was a harsh reality.

“Hmph. We’ll just kick them out as quickly as possible.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“That aside, my lady—the guest wishes to meet you today.”

At the unwelcome news, Serena’s delicate brows furrowed.

“If they were spies, I’d expect suspicious behavior last night… Are you sure nothing happened?”

Even a single dubious act would have given her grounds to expel them cleanly, regardless of their true status later.

“We monitored them secretly all night. No suspicious signs. They didn’t even send messenger birds.”

“Tch.”

This surveillance system had been Serena’s idea. It wasn’t enough to merely watch outsiders—she insisted on anticipating their methods, including the use of messenger pigeons.

How many protagonists in novels from her past life had fallen into crises because of those birds? Since she had become Serena, she intended to use every memory she had.

“I was hoping they’d give me an excuse.”

In the past, when Serena barred the neighboring Duke of Farel from approaching Astel, he’d sent countless messenger birds in retaliation.

Those birds were now comfortably housed in cages, plump and thriving as they raised fine offspring. Separate from her anger, Serena believed in making use of what could be used.

“Could this be another scheme from Duke Farel?”

“Unlikely. They possess an imperial travel pass.”

“Ah, right.”

Only then did Serena recall the crucial detail. Imperial travel passes were granted directly by the Emperor—something a duke would never possess.

“Forgive my boldness, but… could this be related to His Highness the Crown Prince?”

Serena stared blankly for a moment, then let out a short laugh.

“He’s less than a stranger to me. Haven’t the last six years made that clear? And why would the Crown Prince pretend to be a wandering knight?”

This time, even Peter seemed to agree. Regrettably, Serena was right—six years had passed since the engagement with not a single meeting or letter between them.

“Let’s deal with this quickly. I’ll meet them in the first-floor reception room—thirty minutes before lunch. I don’t want this dragging on.”

“Yes. I’ll inform them.”

“By the way—did you notice their hair color or any distinguishing features?”

The thought had occurred to her late the previous night. Sometimes, appearance alone was enough to trace someone back to a powerful family.

“No. It was dark, and they kept their hood on.”

“All right.”

She’d find out soon enough. For now, expelling the suspicious guest and returning to the territory’s affairs took priority.

* * *

After the servant delivered a simple breakfast and left, Lucas frowned again. Skipping his dawn sword practice had left his body stiff and restless.

Still, swinging a sword at dawn in a ducal residence would only cause trouble.

“So this lord fancies herself a ruler, does she? To dare set the time of my audience at her convenience.”

Cedric had nothing left to say and merely stared at him. Indeed—who had told him to hide that exalted identity?

“You should eat first.”

As the tray was set on the table, an appetizing aroma filled the room. The menu itself was simple—eggs and bacon—but the quality was unmistakable.

“There really is something going on in Astel.”

Cedric said as he looked at the plump egg yolks.

“This is something you’d only see in the imperial palace.”

Lucas examined the plate as well. The eggs were excellent, and the bacon rivaled what was served at noble banquets in the capital.

“Yes.”

Now even Lucas was genuinely curious about Astel’s secret.

“There’s something special here.”

He had seen territories more fertile and lands more expansive during his travels—but none gave the same impression as Astel.

“And if that ‘something special’ happens to be my fiancée, all the better.”

Strength tightened his masculine jaw and lips, while a strange emotion bloomed in his deep black eyes.