---------------
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support ‌‌‌our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
---------------

Chapter 10

‌‌‌
"I'm truly so sorry...."

Charlotte spoke with an ‌‌‌expression of deep remorse. Philip coughed harshly from Charlotte's sudden strike, and the two of ‌‌‌them were forced to retreat to a corner of the ballroom corridor to escape the curious gazes of the onlookers.

Philip answered while still holding his hand to his ‌solar plexus.

"Not at all, Miss Charlotte. It was my fault for standing too close to you.... Still, I'm relieved that your discomfort has been resolved."

Despite the lingering pain, he politely responded while examining Charlotte's loosened glove. Charlotte felt a wave of guilt wash over her at Philip's innocent gaze and fell silent.

"Ah, the glove is, well...."

She could not bring herself to tell him that she had been trying to ‌‌‌‌signal her desire to dance with him, only for this disaster to occur.

'The etiquette manual clearly stated to grasp and draw off the glove's edge elegantly without anyone ‌‌‌noticing.... Yet here I am, having struck my dance partner in the solar plexus instead. How ‌‌‌mortifying....'

Charlotte bit her lip and lowered her head deeply. Now the romantic atmosphere with Philip Oslo was surely ‌‌‌ruined, and she thought she might not be able to dance at all during this ball.

Philip, seeing Charlotte's dejected state, spoke again in a gentle voice.

"In truth, I was growing rather weary from hosting the ball in such a dazzling and crowded place. Fortunately, thanks to you, Miss Charlotte, I've been able to take a brief respite away from everyone's eyes."

As Charlotte lifted her head, she took in the sight of Philip with his sparkling blue eyes and pale golden hair. He seemed to believe she still felt guilty about injuring ‌him and appeared to ‌‌‌be offering her comfort. At his kindness, Charlotte's disappointment about not being able to dance melted away like snow.

Philip smiled gently once more as he spoke.

"This ball is particularly splendid even by Count Oslo's House standards. It is, after all, a ball held in honor of Prince Leopold from Holland."

Charlotte's ears, which had been smiling shyly until just moments before, perked up at the mention of ‌Leopold's name. Philip, not noticing ‌this, continued speaking while observing the people hurrying back and forth at the ballroom entrance.

"Prince Leopold is renowned for possessing the qualities of a virtuous ruler, so I believe he would not place much importance on the splendor of a welcome reception. However, it seems my father wished to make a favorable impression ‌‌‌on His Highness Prince Leopold before the important conference to be held in ‌‌‌Vienna."

"An important conference to be held in Vienna?"

Charlotte's deep brown eyes gleamed with renewed clarity as she stood in her white muslin dress. A conference in Vienna? She had assumed Leopold ‌had come to England merely to pay his respects to his godfather, the English King.

Philip turned to face Charlotte. Just as he had sensed ‌‌during her previous visit to his father, he now thought that Charlotte, unlike most ladies of her station, possessed a genuine interest in politics and history.

"Yes, Miss Charlotte. Prince Leopold is said to have stopped in England on his way to the Vienna Conference. It is ‌‌‌‌at Vienna that the question of Holland Kingdom's independence will finally be addressed."

Philip explained to Charlotte in a warm voice, delighted to have discovered this common ground between them.

"Holland Kingdom has long enjoyed the patronage of the great power France and Napoleon. However, Prince Leopold, who opposes Napoleon's ideology, has long desired to establish a unified Northern European Holland Kingdom. Now that Napoleon has been defeated and withdrawn from the war, this presents an extraordinary opportunity—not merely for Prince Leopold, but for ‌‌Holland Kingdom itself."

During the height of the conflict between France and England, Prince Leopold occupied a peculiar position: he had the English King as his godfather, yet Napoleon as ‌his patron. People speculated that the two great powers would compete for Holland Kingdom.

'Or rather, they would engage in a battle of pride over the talented Prince Leopold himself, not merely the kingdom.'

Having ‌‌reached this ‌‌‌‌conclusion, Philip met Charlotte's still-gleaming gaze and continued.

"Though ‌Prince Leopold is a prince of a small nation, he is a statesman whom not only I, but many young people throughout Europe admire and wish to follow. He is a rare combination of progressive thinking and meticulous strategy. Some even believe that should a transformation come to change ‌‌the world, Prince Leopold would be its catalyst."

Charlotte could ‍not conceal her excitement at learning these new facts ‌‌about Leopold, whom she had ‌‌‌not fully understood. She had known him to be handsome and intelligent, but to ‌‌think he was such a remarkable person.

"The catalyst for world-changing transformation! What extraordinary praise. I had merely ‌‌‌thought of him as an inscrutable, cunning ‌prince. Philip Oslo, is there anything else you know about Prince Leopold?"

Philip's ears flushed slightly. Politics and politicians could be tedious subjects, yet seeing Charlotte listen with genuine interest shining ‌‌in her eyes, he became convinced that the rumors of her tomboyish nature must have been greatly exaggerated.

"Ha, an inscrutable, cunning prince indeed... you are not wrong. The great strategist ‌‌Prince Leopold is famous for his unreadable nature. Because of this, there is speculation in society that perhaps the reason the prince stopped in England rather than proceeding directly to Vienna is to seek a bride."

"My goodness, a bride for the prince! Then would she become a queen of a nation?"

Charlotte's eyes widened as she posed ‌the question upon hearing Philip's words. ‌‌Philip's expression grew sorrowful as he replied.

"Unfortunately, no. Despite being the firstborn son, Prince Leopold is not the offspring of the legitimate queen consort of the Holland King, and so he has ceded the position of crown prince to his younger brother."

"I see..."

At ‌‌‌‌Charlotte's surprised reaction, Philip nodded in agreement and continued.

"He possesses far superior qualities as a sovereign and the trust of the people—had he wished it, he could have claimed the crown prince position. But being of such noble character, he avoids the sordid matter of familial disputes over succession."

Charlotte fell into contemplation with a soft sound. That a person of outstanding ability and the people's trust ‌‌‌‌could not become king simply because he was not born of the queen consort seemed profoundly unjust, no matter how she considered it.

'Of course, His ‌Highness Leopold declined first, so ‌‌‌he must have his reasons....'

Charlotte clicked her ‌‌‌tongue in resignation. Philip ‌‌then smiled faintly, as if he understood exactly what she was thinking.

While the two ‌‌of them spent time outside the Ballroom, it seemed all the invited guests had arrived. Observing the throng of people filling the Ballroom, Philip spoke again.

"Though he declined the throne, there won't be a single young lady willing to pass up the chance to become the wife of such ‌a magnificent and noble prince. Which is why there are scarcely any London aristocrats who haven't attended tonight's Ball."

At his words, Charlotte too gazed with interest around the bustling Oslo Manor. Philip, who seemed to genuinely admire Leopold, and the Ball guests adorned more lavishly than ever, their excitement ‌‌palpable at the prospect of seeing Leopold. Charlotte found herself wondering if perhaps her encounter with Leopold's ghost had all been a dream, and that he might ‌appear at the Ball at any moment.

Philip, following Charlotte's gaze, ‌‌asked her a question.

"Could it be... that you yourself are interested in becoming the prince's bride, Miss Charlotte?"

"Me? Surely not?"

Charlotte jumped in place at his sudden question. Me, a bride for the prince? Philip clearly had never heard the rumors about her—how she had failed ‌‌‌‌to secure ‌‌‌‌a single suitor even after three seasons in society.

"No, that's impossible!" ‌‌‌

Charlotte waved both hands dismissively. Besides, I was the only ‌‌‌person who knew of Prince Leopold's predicament—that he had become something akin to a ‌‌‌‌ghost. How could I possibly be interested in becoming his bride? Unless I intended to become a ghost's wife. ‌‌‌‌

Philip burst ‌into laughter at Charlotte's exaggerated gestures and spoke.

"Ha, that's wonderful news for me. Because ‌‌‌I...."

As Philip began to speak, a faint blush crept across his pale face.

"...I very much wanted to ask you to dance with me today."

"Dance... with me?" ‌‍‌‌

Charlotte's eyes widened. Now that she thought about it, her purpose today was to receive a dance request from Philip. For that very reason, she had practiced with Leopold while reviewing etiquette books, and had even donned the most snugly fitting bodice, setting aside all propriety.
(*Bodice: the upper portion of a woman's dress that emphasizes the waist, accentuating the female silhouette, bust, and shoulder line. A primary garment widely worn from before and after the use of corsets in the mid-nineteenth century.)

"Yes, Miss Charlotte. Would you do me the honor ‌‌‌‌of dancing the first dance of the evening with me?"

Philip stepped closer to Charlotte and bowed respectfully. His courteous manner and gentle voice were more than enough to set the hearts of countless women aflutter.

"Of course! Yes, here!"

Charlotte, growing flustered, thrust her hand forward with such urgency it seemed she might strike Philip's solar plexus a second time, her voice sharp with desperation. At the end of her rigid wrist, encased in white gloves ‌that extended to her elbows, dangled a dance ‌‌‌‌card adorned with mother-of-pearl ‌‌‌inlay.

Philip's lips curved into a gentle smile at Charlotte's clearly inexperienced acceptance of the ‌‌‌dance. In that moment, a murmur rippled through the ballroom.

"What on earth is this commotion?"

Philip paused mid-signature on the dance card Charlotte had offered, turning his gaze toward the ‌interior of the ballroom.

Where Charlotte and Philip's eyes were drawn, Count Oslo stood waving his hands frantically, gesturing for the orchestra to cease their performance. His face drained of all color, Count Oslo cried out to the guests of the ball.

"L-Leopold... His Highness Leopold..."

---------------
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy ‌‌‌the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
---------------