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Chapter: 18
Tall trees that seemed easily several hundred years old stretched upward, their thick, sturdy branches holding two pairs of old swings. Startled by the unexpected sight, Natalie froze—but fortunately, there were no signs of anyone nearby.
A place to sit.
Hesitant, Natalie carefully stepped into the peaceful garden. Only after confirming several times that she was truly alone did she allow herself to sit on a swing and breathe properly.
“Ha…”
It was still early spring, and the night air filling her lungs was cold. From afar, she thought she could hear the sound of an orchestra playing and people chatting, carried on the refreshing breeze. Her racing heart slowly began to calm.
‘Let’s hide here a little longer, then sneak back to the hall. And I’ll tell Mother I’m going straight home.’
She intended just to rest for a moment while organizing her thoughts. But the cruel world didn’t grant her even that brief respite.
Crunch, crunch.
Somewhere, the sound of footsteps on the grass began to approach, along with the noise of someone speaking.
Nothing seemed to go her way anymore. Natalie felt tears welling up.
Hurriedly, she slid off the swing, crouched low, and hid behind a large tree. Contrary to her desperate wish for the footsteps to go elsewhere, the sounds grew closer.
‘I’m going to lose it.’
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“So, which lady will you be dancing with?”
Charlotte hurried to catch up with Ian and asked as she walked behind him.
“The one Marcus chose. Probably one of the pink dresses.”
Ian deliberately chose an answer he knew would annoy his meddlesome twin sister.
“Ian!”
“Oh? Offended, are you? Want to pick then?”
His teasing voice carried a laugh. Little did he realize, his sister’s worry was overflowing. Charlotte furrowed her brow and stopped abruptly.
Ian, unbothered, sauntered to the swing and sat down. Smiling, he beckoned Charlotte over with a hand, signaling her to come.
Charlotte, the host of tonight’s ball, was exceptionally beautiful even to her own family—but her expression was sharp enough to kill. It didn’t matter, though; Ian didn’t flinch.
It was Charlotte who felt frustrated. Reluctantly approaching the swing, she said:
“All right. Fine. Let’s stop this nonsense about finding a ridiculous bride.”
“Then how will my sister become queen? By assassinating me?”
“Ian. This isn’t the time to joke. Why does it seem like all you do is joke?”
Ian laughed heartily. Charlotte, exasperated, asked:
“Are you really okay with this? Marriage is no joke!”
“I don’t understand what’s the problem this time either.”
“Marrying a problematic lady and divorcing a year later, versus marrying a flawless princess and having an uneventful marriage—do you really think those are the same?”
Charlotte lowered her voice to avoid being overheard—but she didn’t realize that someone was hiding right behind a tree.
‘What’s going on? What are they talking about?’
Natalie’s face paled as she hid behind the tree.
Charlotte and Ian were, without a doubt, the famous twins of the Grand Baten royal family. This wasn’t a coincidence of names—this was the Malik House, and a ball hosted by the princess was in full swing.
And of all places, this was the princess’s garden. She could handle a prince’s marriage, but a divorce?
‘I picked the wrong hiding spot.’
‘I shouldn’t be listening…’
Yet her heart, foolishly intrigued, beat wildly. Whatever schemes the princess and prince were planning, the state of the kingdom seemed serious.
As Natalie swallowed nervously behind the tree, the debate between the prince and princess continued.
“What’s an uneventful marriage even mean?”
“You can find a woman with whom you can truly respect and rely on each other. Even if there aren’t many decent kings, there are plenty of good princesses. Maybe you’ll even genuinely fall in love with your wife.”
“Genuinely in love? Have you ever seen that happen in an arranged marriage?”
“…”
“I haven’t. I’ve seen plenty turn into enemies, though. My parents are a good example. Just like you despise arranged marriages, I do too.”
Nothing he said was wrong. Negative perceptions of arranged marriages stemmed entirely from their parents. Fear of an unhappy marriage was one reason Charlotte delayed her own wedding.
“Whether it’s an arranged or contractual marriage, a foreign princess raised with care or a problematic Grand Baten lady—it’s all the same to me.”
“No, it’s different, Ian. Don’t take it lightly.”
“Ah, yes. There’s a difference. The first is a lifelong chain; the second at least guarantees freedom after a year.”
“…Forget your damn divorce plan. Even you couldn’t restore your honor with that label attached.”
Ian laughed brightly at his sister’s exclamation.
“Right, the moment I divorce, I’ll never ascend the throne. So, Charlotte, my dream is to be a divorced man.”
“You really… how can you be so carefree?”
He looked utterly at ease. But from an observer’s point of view, such a bold and daring plan was disturbing.
Natalie, who had accidentally overheard the prince’s dream, felt equally overwhelmed. The thrill was short-lived; she was now buried under state secrets she couldn’t handle.
“…Li!”
A loud commotion arose in the distance—not welcome or reassuring in the least.
‘That crazy pervert still hasn’t left.’ Natalie swallowed hard and covered her mouth.
At the same time, Ian and Charlotte reacted to the sound.
“…What’s that noise?”
Before Charlotte finished murmuring, someone hurried into the princess’s garden.
“Your Highness, Princess Highness.”
It was Ian’s aide, Marcus Peeble. Sensing something serious, Charlotte slowly rose from the swing and approached him.
“Marcus, what’s the commotion?”
“Sir Humphrewood is causing a disturbance.”
At the mention of Humphrewood, Ian’s eyes narrowed. Charlotte, annoyed, asked:
“Are you talking about the Viscount? Why him?”
“He claims he’s looking for something in the garden.”
“This is my private garden. What could he possibly be looking for?”
“He’s too drunk to explain properly. But apparently, one of the guards saw a lady, so they’re searching the garden. Hopefully it’s just a lost young lady, but it could also be an intruder. You two should relocate.”
Natalie’s eyes widened. If caught by the guards, she would attract enormous attention—or worse.
‘I might be quietly killed for overhearing a secret plan.’
She frantically surveyed her surroundings. Five steps ahead was the flowerbed she had tripped over while fleeing the pervert.
‘If the guards start searching here, it’s over. If I crawl back across the flowerbed the way I came, maybe I won’t be noticed.’
She couldn’t tell what the right choice was—but she knew she couldn’t let anyone discover she’d eavesdropped.
Carefully lowering herself, Natalie began inching toward the flowerbed. If necessary, she would leap across it and run full speed. She didn’t know how long she could hold out.
“Hmph. If those making low-quality magazines sneaked in, that’d be troublesome. Marcus, first you—”
Charlotte, just as sharp about gossip as Queen Violet, responded sensitively.
As she issued orders to Marcus, Ian remained on the swing, seemingly indifferent, leisurely surveying the garden. He intended to savor this quiet moment before entering the noisy ballroom.
A refreshing breeze blew, making his eyelids heavy. Blocking his sight seemed to sharpen his other senses.
He detected a mysterious, fruity scent on the wind that he hadn’t noticed before.
Finally, Ian opened his eyes.
‘I can’t just ignore this…’
He had intended to enjoy quiet contemplation, but that was clearly impossible. He turned his gaze toward the thick tree trunk as if measuring its circumference, more accurately toward whatever was hiding behind it.
Leaning back slowly while holding the swing rope, Ian revealed the hidden figure behind the tree.
Blinking in surprise, he saw:
“…….”
A crimson rear end moved forward in high crawling, unaware of his gaze.
His eyes widened. The bright red shape illuminated by the mansion’s lights was unmistakably a backside—and he recognized it.
“…Pfft.”
He burst into laughter uncontrollably.
At the same moment, the figure startled and froze, while Marcus and Charlotte, in mid-serious discussion, turned to look at him.
“Why are you laughing?”
Charlotte furrowed her brows. The prince, dangling awkwardly on the swing and giggling, looked absurd.
“Ian?”
Covering his mouth with a hand to suppress his laughter, Ian shook his head at Charlotte as if to say it was nothing.
Papapap.
Like a deer startled by a hunter, a rustling sound tore through the garden.
Pfh.
Laughter slipped through his fingers again.
“Your Highness!”
Realizing something had hidden behind the tree and fled, Marcus leapt forward, but Ian held up a hand to stop him.
Marcus looked at the prince, puzzled.
“They must have overheard our conversation.”
“Did you see their appearance?”
Suppressing his laughter, Ian nodded.
“I’ll fetch the guards immediately, Your Highness.”
“It’s fine. I know them.”
“You know them? What do you mean?”
“I didn’t expect it to come to this. Can’t be helped. I’ll handle it.”
Finally regaining composure, Ian spoke in his usual gentle tone.
“Handle what?”
“Your Highness?”
“So dismiss the guards. Don’t catch anyone.”
Charlotte and Marcus exchanged worried glances, wondering if the prince had truly gone mad.
