Chapter 18
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Chapter 18
The next morning, I awoke with a drowsy rub of my eyes. How long had I slept? The sun outside the window already hung at the highest point in the sky.
"I remember talking with His Highness until dawn drew near... *yawn*."
I made no attempt to hide my exhaustion as I yawned. From Leopold, I had learned several sonnets by Shakespeare that he enjoyed reading. And stories of his childhood—tales untouched by war or the burden of the crown.
'And I asked him something else too, didn't I? What was it?'
I gazed out the window with vacant eyes. The sunlight streaming through seemed to hollow out my heart. When had it begun—this preference for the comfort of night over the brilliance of day?
"Ah!"
I opened my eyes wide as something came back to me.
"That's right—I asked His Highness about his ideal woman... what kind of lady she might be."
I ran my fingers carelessly through my disheveled hair, recalling the previous night.
'Now that I know more about our prince, shall I ask something more personal? What could it be... ah!'
Even as I rubbed my sleepy eyes, I had continued to pepper Leopold with questions.
'What sort of lady captures Your Highness's heart? Your ideal type, perhaps...?'
Like a child reluctant to sleep, I had murmured in a voice faster and more animated than usual.
'Even I, an ordinary middle-class lady past twenty-four, face considerable pressure to marry. Surely Your Highness, being a prince of the realm, must have such exacting standards for choosing a bride that you've remained unmarried all this time?'
Leopold had regarded my continued murmuring with an enigmatic expression—one that seemed both amused and tender—before responding.
'When the time came, I thought any daughter of a family politically beneficial to the realm would suffice. I never bothered considering some idealistic notion of a perfect match—it seemed pointless anyway.'
My eyes had begun to close gradually as I listened to Leopold's answer.
'Tsk, what's the fun in living that way? No matter how futile it seems, one should still dream and hope. Think about it even now, Your Highness. There's still a little time before the stalwart Knights of Holland and Armand Rochefort find you....'
With those words, I found that the events of last night had slipped from my memory entirely. I had simply fallen asleep, clutching a soft pillow close and half-buried beneath the quilts.
I grumbled as I gazed at the noonday sunlight streaming through the window.
"So I never did learn what sort of lady is His Highness's ideal? No, wait—I think I heard something while drifting off to sleep...."
I searched my memory. Now that I thought about it, I seemed to recall hearing Leopold's low, warm chuckle directed at me as sleep claimed me. And afterward, it felt as though he had drawn the quilt up to my shoulders.
"And His Highness said...."
I murmured to myself, running my hand along the headboard where Leopold had sat. His voice from last night—low and tender—echoed in my ears.
'Yes, perhaps I'm beginning to understand now, Charlotte...'
He had whispered in a hushed voice, as though believing I was already asleep. His touch, softened by the light of dawn, seemed to brush through my hair.
'My ideal woman is someone like you....'
Bang—
"Charlotte!"
My door burst open. This time it was not the sullen Helena, but the young Katie, her bright golden hair streaming as she called out cheerfully.
"A letter has arrived from eldest sister Jane! Mother says everyone should come downstairs to read it together!"
***
In the Augusta Family's parlor, bathed in the September sunlight, Katie recited in her spirited voice a letter that had arrived from Jane, the eldest daughter of the Augusta Family.
To my beloved siblings,
Is everyone well? And how are Mother and Father?
Country life at Uncle's estate suits me far better than I expected. When I marry Terrence next spring, we shall move to the countryside in the Southern Region, so experiencing rural life beforehand has proven quite worthwhile. Thanks to this, I've been able to learn household management from my refined aunt instead of attending expensive etiquette lessons in London.
At first, I thought there was nothing about me—a girl from Brentwood—that would fit with the country folk. Yet lately, I've been spending delightful time with our village neighbors, all thanks to a fascinating trend spreading through these parts. That trend, you ask? Why, it's gatherings where one meets with gypsies and spiritualists who wander the countryside!
They can divine our futures, summon spirits, and cast enchantments that make young men and women fall in love with one another—truly remarkable feats. Some people (likely pragmatists like Helena) dismiss it all as mere sleight of hand, but I myself have witnessed the genuine magic of such acts. What do I mean? Well, you'll understand once I return home....
Katie glanced at Helena's expression as she read the letter. Sure enough, Helena—who had been mending an old sheet music bag—rolled her eyes every time words like "necromancer" or "sorcery" appeared.
Katie resumed reading the letter.
...Terrence and I have been exchanging letters about wedding arrangements lately. According to our plans, Terrence should have arrived by now to collect me. But as you know, he works as a private mercenary. This time, the escort mission he took on in London—well, it turned out to involve a prince from the Holland Kingdom. The problem is that this prince from Holland came to London in disguise, so Terrence didn't even realize the nobleman he was protecting was actually the prince. There's been quite the rumor circulating that this prince has gone missing somewhere in the heart of London recently—have you heard anything about it?
Crash—
Startled by the unexpected mention of Leopold, Charlotte dropped her teacup while eating her late breakfast. Helena cast her a reproachful look for the clumsy act, but Charlotte quickly gestured urgently for Katie to continue reading the letter.
...In any case, because of this situation, Terrence cannot leave London even for a moment. I do hope my wedding, which is less than six months away, won't be postponed because of this. When the time comes, all of you must attend our ceremony dressed in pale blue gowns that complement the golden hair of we Augusta sisters (though I apologize to Charlotte for saying so).
Oh, and speaking of Charlotte—I heard that thanks to Charlotte, everyone received an invitation to Count Oslo's Ball? Moreover, Charlotte even received a dance request from Count Oslo's son! I learned this from Katie's last letter, and goodness! Has fate finally come calling for our troublemaking third sister? And with Philip Oslo himself as the one bringing it?
Now, if Helena would only abandon her stubborn insistence that she won't marry a gentleman who doesn't love music—not even for a fortune—and if even Bianca were to receive a proposal, the Augusta Family would have nothing left to worry about!
Yes, well, now that I think about it, we all assumed Charlotte would stay and care for her parents. But now Charlotte might marry into an earldom... However, Charlotte, you know you can't be satisfied with just receiving a dance request at the Ball, right? You need to hurry and ask Philip Oslo to exchange letters, or pester him to go on an outing with you before winter comes. Moreover, when October arrives, everyone will start preparing for the Eve of All Saints' Day, and if you don't keep Philip Oslo right by your side by then, the other ladies might snatch Oslo away from you.
You all remember, don't you, how Terrence and I promised each other our future at the Eve of Saint's Day Ball? They say there's no day when love is more easily fulfilled than that one. At the Eve Ball, everyone wears masks to hide their faces and dances through the night, concealing their worldly status and propriety.
Before you know it, you find yourself immersed in an enchanting atmosphere, your heart opening completely to your partner. It's as though you've been cast under a spell of love itself....
You've probably all heard Aunt Elicia speak of this. Every time All Saints' Day approaches, she's busy indulging in fantasies of meeting our late uncle. She's so devoted to the Eve festivities that she practically locks herself away at home alone, forsaking all the grand balls and social gatherings....
Oh dear, I've gone and filled another page with unnecessary rambling. I can already hear Aunt scolding me for wasting paper. In any case, I shall return home in time for the Eve of All Saints' Day. I must prepare a mask and costume to wear when Terrence and I attend the Ball together.
Until then, do enjoy yourselves! I hope Mother and Father remain in good health.
With love, Jane.
P.S.: I've sent along some apple juice, a specialty of the region where I'm staying. Isn't the golden hue absolutely lovely? The taste is even better, I assure you. I sent some to Terrence about a month ago, and he was quite delighted with it.
Once Katie finished reading the letter, she retrieved a large glass bottle from the box. Just as Jane had described, it contained fresh apple juice gleaming with a golden radiance.
Katie bounced on her feet with delight.
"Oh! What a luminous color—I can hardly wait to taste it!"
While Katie, with Collin's assistance, distributed the apple juice to everyone, Charlotte began gathering the pieces of the teacup she had dropped earlier.
'So Terrence, Jane's fiancé, was assigned a task related to Leopold?'
I realized I might uncover clues about Leopold's disappearance closer to home than I'd anticipated.
'What could this secret task have been? Does Armand Rochefort know about it as well?'
Just then, the maid Collin entered the drawing room with an alarmed expression.
"Miss, you have a visitor!"
As I lifted my head, I spotted a tall man standing beside Collin. Speak of the devil—he appears the moment you think of him.
Speak of the Devil - an English idiom used when someone appears right after you start talking about them.
I sighed upon seeing the familiar man regarding me with a cold expression.
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org