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Chapter 13

‌‌‌‌

Charlotte found herself speechless at the vista before her. Leopold had led her to a vast meadow that opened within a forest thick with ancient trees. The field was carpeted ankle-high with ‌‌‌low-growing ‌‌‌grass and white flowers ‌‌that glimmered in ‌‌the moonlight, while the mist and towering trees that ‌filled the forest had ‌‌‌‌vanished entirely—replaced by a crystalline night sky stretching endlessly overhead.

"This is like...."

As Charlotte trailed off, lost in admiration of the breathtaking landscape, Leopold spoke softly beside her.
‌‌
"A small ballroom hidden within the forest."

His words rang true. The ‌‌place resembled a ballroom the forest had concealed—one meant for fairies. The delicate grass ‌and flowers formed a soft floor perfect for ‌‌‌dancing, and the deep azure ‌‌sky, darker than any found in the forest or Garden, was studded with stars that shimmered brighter than any chandelier, seeming ready to cascade down at any moment.

Leopold curved one corner of his ‌‌‌mouth upward, his voice turning honeyed as he asked.

"What do you say? Will you dance with me?"

Charlotte gazed at Leopold, still intoxicated by the meadow's beauty.

"I beg your pardon? With Your Highness?"

Leopold smiled softly, and in the next moment, his large hand deftly captured hers. Charlotte's body trembled delicately at the warmth of his palm enveloping her entire hand.

Leopold slowly bent his knees and lowered his waist, then brought his lips to the back of her hand in a gentle kiss as he whispered.

"Though I am not the count's son you desired...."

Rising again, Leopold ‌‌‌took her other hand and placed it upon his shoulder. Each of his movements possessed an enchanting ‌‌‌grace, as elegant as ‌‌a prince from a storybook. ‌‌‌

Leopold's whisper continued.

"And there is no grand orchestra here...."

Leopold drew Charlotte gently close, cradling her against him. She could not help but ‌‌release a soft, involuntary gasp.

"Ah..."

Charlotte felt as though she might lose herself entirely in Leopold's unusually ‌‌‌‌captivating silhouette and voice. Yet ‌‌her body had already ‌‌‌surrendered to his gentle lead, nestling ‌naturally ‌‌‌into his embrace. Then Leopold's lips drew closer to her ear.

"...Since I caused you to miss your first dance, well..."

At Leopold's languid voice, ‌‌‌Charlotte felt her heartbeat quicken beyond her control. Just then, a breeze slipped through the dense trees and swept past. With a low, resonant whisper of ‌‌wind, the leaves began to rustle softly.

Using that sound as their music, Leopold's feet began to move slowly. Charlotte naturally matched his steps, swaying in perfect harmony. As they danced, the white wildflowers surrounding them trembled rhythmically in the breeze, like the ‌‌‌metronome Helena used when playing the piano.
(*metronome: An apparatus invented in 1816 to indicate musical tempo, producing sound by moving a spring-connected pendulum at a constant speed.)

'Oh...'

Charlotte closed her eyes tightly, then opened them, letting out a soft gasp ‌‌of wonder. The wind cutting through the dark night sky brushed regularly between the trees, composing a gentle melody for her ears.

'Beneath starlight that sparkles more brilliantly than any chandelier, Leopold's warm embrace, and the sandalwood fragrance emanating from him...'
‌‌
This moment was far more romantic and beautiful than the first dance scene ‌‌she had so eagerly anticipated.

"Your Highness..."

Charlotte spoke softly, her voice trembling with emotion. Leopold gazed down at her with his deep olive-grey eyes, a mysterious smile playing at ‌‌‌‌his lips that matched the darkened intensity of his gaze.

Charlotte spoke in a dreamlike tone.

"Even when you're not a ghost...are you always such a wonderful dance partner?"

At Charlotte's unexpected remark, Leopold let out a soft chuckle.

"...Well, ‌my lady."

Leopold answered her in a low voice.

"Believe it or not, the prince of the Puppet State is rarely afforded the time to dance with a charming lady."

Charlotte realized that the 'charming lady' he spoke of was herself, and though her face flushed, she could not resist asking Leopold.

"Why is that? Surely there would be a ‌‌line of young ladies eager to dance with a prince..."

Moreover, with Leopold's appearance, even if he were a blacksmith or a forest keeper instead of a prince, there would still be a queue of noble ladies wishing to dance with him. Charlotte recalled the scene of Leopold's welcoming reception, which had been filled with ladies dressed in exceptional finery.

Yet Leopold spoke in a voice as light and composed as the wind through the forest.

"That may be true, my lady. But when one spends countless years securing the independence of a divided nation, and day and night wrestling with the throne of the still-young Frederick...."

Leopold's once-desolate gaze rekindled with playful warmth as it found Charlotte.

"...one loses the leisure to even notice ‌‌‌‌who one dances with, or that one's dance ‌‌partner is such a lovely lady."

"Ah...."

Charlotte blinked softly, a faint exclamation escaping her lips. ‌‌

'Now that I think of it, Philip Oslo said something similar. His Highness ‌‌‌‌is always at the center of attention, he said. A man bearing such weighty responsibility as the catalyst for change....'

Though ‌Leopold spoke in a light tone, Charlotte sensed the exhaustion he carried before becoming a phantom—as if it were bleeding into her own heart. Yet she found herself wondering ‌‌‌‌if perhaps this brief invisibility to the world's gaze was, for him, a small respite from the burden he ‌‌bore.

Charlotte felt Leopold's hand still clasping hers, moving gently to the soft forest melody, and she rested her face quietly against his shoulder as she spoke.

"Then.... A life without such leisure...."

Charlotte hesitated before ‌‌‌continuing.

"...was it happy, Your Highness Leopold?" ‌‌

Even after asking, Charlotte's heart continued its frantic beating.

"...."

Rather than answer, Leopold gazed at the brave, small lady resting her head against his shoulder.

'Happiness....'

The unfamiliar word sent gentle ripples through Leopold's mind. The man he once ‌‌‌was would have dismissed it as a meaningless, empty question. Unlike plans or strategies, happiness was not something he could control or command.

'But now that I've become little more than a phantom, that word ‌‌‌‌appears in an entirely different light.'

Leopold's luminous grey-green eyes—as if holding the depths of a dark forest—closed briefly before opening again, and he spoke with quiet sincerity.

"I'm not certain, my lady."

He was a man who rarely admitted ignorance. With knowledge and power ‌‌‌both his domain, he was meant to know ‌‌‌‌all things, to bear responsibility, to lead—yet Leopold's ‌‌‌admission of uncertainty ‌carried an oddly weightless quality.

He continued.

"That there could be different ways of living, that greater happiness might exist, that I myself could make choices... I've never once considered such things."

Charlotte lifted her head from his embrace, startled by Leopold's unexpected confession. ‌‌

"Truly, Your Highness? You've always borne such heavy, solemn responsibilities without ‌even finding happiness in them?"

Leopold found himself smiling at Charlotte's expression—one that laid bare every thought crossing her mind. She gazed at him with an enigmatic blend of bewilderment and compassion, unable to fathom how he could endure such a fate.

Recovering his amusement, Leopold replied with playful nonchalance.

"One thing I'm certain of: before I became a ghost, I'd never seen anyone roll about on a bed with such uninhibited joy—nor had ‌‌‌‌‌I ever experienced it myself."

"Oh..."

Charlotte's cheeks flushed as she realized Leopold was teasing her.

"Tsk, perhaps Holland is populated only by solemn and serious people?"

As Charlotte pouted, Leopold burst into genuine laughter at her vibrant expression—a vitality he'd never felt while driven by duty and obligation. It was a sensation he'd only discovered after becoming something akin to a ghost.

Leopold gazed down at her, amused by the irony of his own ‌‌‌circumstances.

"I'm grateful I can dance with you ‌‌‌now, Charlotte."

In that moment, Charlotte realized Leopold had called her by name for the first time—not "my ‌‌‌lady," but her true name. She felt, ‌‌‌‌‌too, the strengthened grip of his hand at her waist.

Leopold ‌‌‌‌continued.

"Perhaps I've lived my entire life for this very moment—to truly perceive such beauty."

Leopold's grayish-green eyes rippled like shadows cast by towering trees.

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