TPFB 26

While I was handling state affairs in my office, there came a knock at the door—three times.

“Come in.”

At my permission, the heavy door opened, and a young man entered, his jet-black hair swaying as he moved.

“Prince Luke. Please excuse the interruption.”

“Oh, Keith. Is your study session with Lilybell over?”

A close friend of mine—and now someone who even helped with Lilybell’s studies.
Standing there was a man with jet-black hair and golden eyes—Keith Tim Winterhalter.

“Yes.”

“How is Lilybell doing?”

“She was studying medicinal herbs and illnesses with great enthusiasm today as well. She seems particularly interested in infectious diseases.”

“Infectious diseases? She really is an unusual child.”

As we exchanged pleasantries, I felt a faint stir of anticipation inside me.
—What, exactly, does he think of my sister?

(Well then, let’s probe that a little.)

Keith took his usual seat diagonally in front of me and calmly began processing the stacks of documents on the desk.
While I spent my hours sweating it out with the knight order, Keith—who used to devote that time to paperwork—now spent it studying with Lilybell.

If his work had suffered because of it, I would have had to say something. But perhaps because he was careful not to let that happen, his efficiency had instead improved, producing a baffling opposite effect.

Because Keith was like that, I found myself working even harder to keep up—an additional synergistic effect.

Honestly, Lilybell never ceases to surprise me.

“…This inspection proposal—the water source at the third candidate site seems unstable. We’ll need an alternative—”

“I’ve already prepared one. Here.”

As I scanned the paper he handed me without hesitation, a wry smile escaped me.

“You really are fast at your work, Keith.”

“Only as expected.”

The reply was as emotionless as ever.
But just for a moment, there was the slightest pause in his voice.

Without lifting my gaze, I quietly observed him. Keith straightened the documents in his hands, as if about to say something—then hesitated and closed his mouth.

“…Is there something on your mind?”

At my casual question, Keith waited a beat before answering.

“Regarding the princess’s recent condition… I was hoping to hear Your Highness’s perspective.”

“Oh? That’s rare, Keith. You don’t often bring up topics like that.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly as I studied his face.
Well-defined features, golden eyes carefully masking emotion—just as difficult as ever to read what he was thinking.

“You feel something is off as well?”

Keith nodded.

“Yes. Compared to how Her Highness was before, she seems like a completely different person. …In a good way.”

“I agree. It’s as though she’s broken out of her shell—she’s become far more proactive.”

The sister who had once been quiet and obedient now actively sought learning, cultivated medicinal herbs, and even tried to study medicine.

The change was striking, even to those watching from close by.
You could feel her will to live—her powerful vitality.

“…Why do you think that is?” I asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know. But I get the impression that she knows something.”

Keith spoke slowly.

(Hmm. This is getting interesting.)

I stopped my work and turned fully toward him.

“She shows particular interest in infectious diseases. This country hasn’t yet experienced a large-scale outbreak. And yet, she seems to be constantly searching for their causes and solutions.”

“…That is unexpected.”

“Yes. Frankly, I was surprised. It’s a change that’s hard to imagine from the princess she once was.”

Aligning the corners of the documents with his fingertips, Keith continued with a serious expression.

“It felt as though… she’s acting with a specific purpose in mind. And that purpose seems to be driven by an exceptionally strong motivation.”

“…I see.”

I narrowed my eyes.

It seemed Keith, too, was unsettled by the change in my sister.

Marquis Winterhalter was known for his gentle demeanor, sound judgment, and overwhelming support within the noble faction.
But I had always been suspicious of what lay behind that smile.

People who appear mild on the surface often harbor completely opposite feelings inside.
Yes—just like me.

Keith was undeniably capable, earning his place as both my friend and my aide through sheer ability. Yet I had never sensed anything resembling emotion from him.

He carried out his duties efficiently, exchanged just enough conversation, and then left.
To be honest, he was an elusive sort of friend.

Still, that distance suited me. He never intruded unnecessarily, never spoke more than needed. I liked that about him.

“Well, well. To think we’d both be shaken by Lilybell’s change. She might be quite the schemer, that one.”

At that, Keith’s brow finally relaxed—just a little.

“I’m not sure about that. However… I do feel that leaving her unattended could be dangerous. I wanted to understand her true intentions.”

“I see.”

I nodded, then grinned.

“So in other words, you can’t stop worrying about my sister.”

“……”

“You won’t deny it?”

“Denying it would be meaningless. There may indeed be such an aspect.”

At his blunt response, I chuckled quietly.

It was true—Lilybell often seemed to act a step ahead of everyone else.

I had heard that she was the first to notice the Second Consort’s illness and even proposed an appropriate dietary treatment.
Lady Marguerite, who had suffered from mysterious ailments and grown increasingly withdrawn, was now said to be recovering.

Apparently, Lilybell was unusually knowledgeable about something called “allergies” and had even advised Roland on the nutrients needed for physical conditioning.

Though she had supposedly lived alone in the detached palace for years, she discovered things even the royal physicians had failed to—an inconsistency that bothered me.

—Lilybell had changed.

And standing before me was a man whose heart had been stirred by that change.

(This is far too interesting a development to waste as mere political leverage.)

With that thought, I pulled a single letter from my desk drawer.

“About the upcoming birthday celebration—I intend for Lilybell to attend as well.”

“Yes.”

“Will you be escorting her that day, Keith?”

“That is my intention.”

“Oh?”

The sound slipped out before I could stop it. That was an immediate answer.

I couldn’t yet tell whether it was purely political, but at the very least, Keith’s stance was clear.

“I’ve already arranged her dress. One I believe she’ll like—I did a bit of research.”

“Hm. Is that so.”

The sound escaped me again—this time for the second time.

I had to restrain myself from smiling outright.

(Oh my. This might not be mere political maneuvering after all.)

The man who had never so much as changed his expression even when surrounded by noble ladies—choosing a dress in advance like this?

“It’s not a yellow dress, is it?”

“Well, that is—”

An unusually hesitant response.

In high society, matching colors with one’s partner was common practice.
Between fiancés, wearing dresses or ornaments that matched the other’s eye color was said to signify belonging to one another.

When Keith lifted his gaze, I smiled warmly at him.

“Be kind to her. She’s my precious little sister.”

“Understood.”

The reply was calm as ever—but deep within his eyes, I could clearly see a faint warmth.

The slight wavering of his gaze, the subtle movement of his fingers—
In such small details, I sensed an agitation I had never seen in him before.

“You’ve been a candidate for Lilybell’s fiancé for a long time now… Just don’t do anything that would make her cry.”

I spoke evenly, smiling gently—half a warning not to make any suspicious moves.

Not just my sister’s change, but my friend’s change—and even my own.
All of it was proving to be quite fascinating.