Chapter 17
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Chapter 17
"Your lover? Me?"
Charlotte's mouth fell open in shock at words she had never anticipated, and she cried out. From the adjacent room, Bianca's sleepy murmurs drifted through the walls.
Leopold brought a finger to his lips.
"Shh."
Charlotte, startled by the volume of her own voice, quickly covered her mouth. The drowsy murmurings from Bianca's room soon faded into silence.
Leopold resumed speaking.
"Since rumors circulate that I'm searching for a bride in England, this is the most unsuspicious disguise possible. If I can only prove to Armand that you are my secret lover, I can explain how you came to know of my presence in London."
"But... but..."
Charlotte murmured uncertainly. His lover—and a secret one at that. Suddenly, her gaze caught her own reflection in the window behind Leopold. An unremarkable face that seemed utterly incongruous with his noble bearing.
'How could someone as ordinary as me possibly be the prince's lover? Would Armand ever believe such a thing?'
"You needn't fabricate elaborate lies or perform any grand deception, Charlotte."
As if reading her very thoughts, Leopold spoke with deliberate gentleness.
"Beyond stating that you are my lover, simply answer honestly whatever questions he poses."
When Charlotte tilted her head, still visibly anxious, Leopold offered a reassuring smile and elaborated.
"For instance, should Armand ask how we met, you need only recount what happened at the Count Oslo Gallery. He will believe it occurred during my visit to England last summer—not a month ago when I had already vanished, but during my previous visit."
"So... you mean I should say that Your Highness approached me and spoke to me? And that you sought me out afterward...?"
Charlotte asked uncertainly, and Leopold nodded in affirmation.
"After that, while I was in England, we would meet in secret and take night walks together, spending time in conversation. Just like we're doing now."
"But...."
Charlotte's words trailed off. An unmarried man and woman spending time together without a chaperone, and every night at that. Except for the fact that Leopold had become like a ghost, invisible to everyone else, it was precisely the sort of behavior lovers would engage in.
Charlotte considered the matter.
'Yes, there's no other choice. If Armand grows suspicious, it won't just harm my family—I won't be able to gather information to help the Prince in the future either.'
Moreover, if Armand truly believed she was Leopold's lover, obtaining information about Leopold's search efforts would actually become far easier.
Leopold, meanwhile, was thinking along different lines. Watching Charlotte recklessly seek out Armand for his sake, he realized it would be wise to put some protective measures in place for her.
'Now that he's heard I'm her lover, whether he believes it or not, Armand will have no choice but to protect this spirited young lady.'
Leopold continued speaking.
"Of course, merely playing the role of lovers won't be enough, Charlotte. If we were truly lovers, there would be more we ought to do...."
Leopold slowly reclined against the headboard, a captivating smile gracing his lips. Then he tapped the empty space beside him with his hand, gesturing for Charlotte to come closer.
Charlotte repeated Leopold's words back to him.
"M-more we ought to do...?"
She couldn't begin to fathom what he meant. Yet as she watched Leopold, his smooth smile beckoning her to his side, her throat inexplicably grew dry. Charlotte slowly shifted her body to sit beside him.
Leopold leaned his head down toward Charlotte, now close beside him, and whispered.
"Yes, Charlotte. If we were truly lovers, we ought to...."
Charlotte caught the soft, sweet fragrance of a summer forest emanating from Leopold. Without thinking, she swallowed hard, her throat bobbing audibly as she wondered.
'If we were truly lovers, we ought to do what, exactly?'
Leopold's face, now so close to hers, was illuminated by candlelight in a distinctly golden hue. Receiving the full force of his chiseled features and those cool gray-green eyes was as overwhelming as gazing directly into the midday sun.
Charlotte fought the growing urge to close her eyes, her dark brown irises trembling slightly.
Leopold's cool gray-green eyes swept over Charlotte. After a moment, his lips curved upward in a seductive smile, and his melodious voice finally emerged.
"...Shouldn't we at least remember a few long and tedious facts about each other?"
"Pardon?"
Charlotte's eyes widened with an anticipation she couldn't quite name. Leopold straightened his posture and leaned back against the headboard in a more relaxed position.
"To prepare for Armand's interrogation of you, I'll tell you a few things you should know about me. It will be difficult to remember everything in just a day or two, but you're clever, so I think you'll manage well."
Leopold finished speaking with a soft smile. Charlotte felt a subtle disappointment settle in one corner of her heart, though she couldn't quite understand what she had been hoping for. She simply nodded quietly.
And so their conversation began, stretching through the entire night. Charlotte listened as Leopold recounted his childhood, the history of the Holland Kingdom, how he became godson to the King of England, and why he intended to attend the conference in Vienna.
At some point, Charlotte lay comfortably on the bed with her stomach down, pausing in her eager note-taking in a small notebook.
"So, now that Napoleon of France has withdrawn, this is the best time for the Holland Kingdom to achieve independence? That's why Your Highness has been secretly persuading the leaders of Europe, and finally intends to attend the Vienna Conference to solidify that independence...."
Leopold smiled faintly. Just as he had anticipated, Charlotte was absorbing his words with remarkable speed. Seeing his expression, Charlotte rolled over and spoke.
"Wait, didn't you renounce the throne? Yet why does Your Highness seem to have more to do than any prince of any other nation?"
Charlotte scanned her dense notes. The account of Leopold's childhood and life as a prince that she had heard thus far was truly an unbroken succession of relentless days. The separation of the united kingdom, French regency, war, internal strife.... Through it all, he had preserved the small Holland Kingdom through the influence he had cultivated and his sharp judgment.
'Now I understand why Philip Oslo has always spoken with such admiration of His Highness Leopold. He has guided Holland to the very brink of independence amid such chaos, where a single mistake could determine the fate of the nation....'
As Charlotte read through her notes with an expression mixing admiration and melancholy, Leopold gave an ambiguous answer to her question.
"First, because I was not the crown prince, I could avoid people's attention and form a knightly order composed of secret knights like Armand."
At this, Charlotte closed her notebook and murmured.
"So ultimately, to undertake weightier duties, you even renounced the throne—the one honor and glory you could have enjoyed?"
Meanwhile, Charlotte imagined Leopold, who received such attention even without being crown prince, ascending to the throne. According to Philip's account, unlike when his half-brother, Prince Frederick—whom Philip claimed was incompetent compared to Leopold—would inherit the crown, Leopold would have borne far greater expectations and responsibilities.
'Your Highness, who has become something like a phantom, always seemed so leisurely and at ease...'
Charlotte gazed at Leopold, who wore an enigmatic smile, when suddenly she sat up on the bed and spoke.
"Your Highness Leopold, I wish to hear something more delightful and intimate about you instead. Truly, a lover ought to know such things far more than political maneuvers or grand ideals, wouldn't you agree?"
At Charlotte's question, Leopold's brow furrowed with displeasure. He seemed unable to comprehend her meaning. Charlotte pressed on.
"For instance, what foods do you favor? Which novels warm your heart? These are the very things that allow one to truly understand you."
Leopold's frown deepened.
"...If you speak of books I have read frequently, there would be Machiavelli's The Prince, or Hobbes' Leviathan...."
"No, not those—I mean stories. Tales that bring joy and delight when read. Stories one wishes to lose themselves in through the longest winter nights, or that linger in one's imagination long after closing the book."
Charlotte interrupted him with passionate fervor. Leopold fell into contemplation, and for once his usual air of certainty wavered. Her words seemed utterly foreign to him. At last, he spoke.
"Hmm.... Now that I consider it, I believe I enjoyed Shakespeare during my youth."
"Shakespeare? Isn't he the writer who fills his works with complex, pedantic expressions? There's nothing remotely romantic about it...."
Now it was Charlotte's brow that creased. She had envisioned novels brimming with enchantments and songs of lovers whose affections were impossible to fulfill—not Shakespeare. She had only glimpsed his works a few times through her governess Maria's insistence.
Charlotte rolled her eyes as though the mere thought bored her. At this, a smile played at Leopold's lips once more.
"Shakespeare is tedious and devoid of romance, you say...."
His sea-green eyes turned toward Charlotte's flushed cheeks. Suddenly, his soft voice resonated in her ears.
"Doubt thou the stars are fire,
(Doubt thou the stars are fire)
doubt that the sun doth move,
(Doubt that the sun doth move)
doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.
(Doubt truth to be a liar)"
Leopold's voice, melodious as music itself, filled and warmed Charlotte's modest chamber. She gazed at him in astonishment.
His gaze traveled through the gradually brightening darkness beyond the window, then settled upon Charlotte's flushed and eager face. He murmured:
"...But never doubt that I love you. I beseech you, harbor no such doubt.
(*But never doubt I love.)"
"Oh...."
Charlotte gasped, her face radiant as the morning star.
"It's so magnificent and romantic. It sounds like something straight out of a love story I adore!"
Leopold answered with a gentle smile.
"It's from Shakespeare's work—a passage from a love letter written by Prince Hamlet, confessing his affection."
Charlotte gasped once more at Leopold's words. To hear a prince's confession from the tale recited by an actual prince—no wonder his voice had sounded as though he were genuinely declaring his love.
A radiant smile finally bloomed across Charlotte's lips.
"Your Highness, who always seems to maintain such sharp rationality, yet possesses the leisure to remember such romantic prose...."
Charlotte's eyes sparkled as she pressed both hands against her chest, which had been fluttering wildly since moments before.
"...I truly feel as though I can now properly play the role of Your Highness's secret lover."
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org