Chapter 28
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Chapter 28
The Rochefort Estate's concert to commemorate September was held the very next day. Rather than attending as a performer starting next month, Helena had decided to go to this concert with Charlotte. For Charlotte, who had been searching for an opportunity to speak with Armand, it was a stroke of good fortune.
"Charlotte, where are you going?"
Helena called out to her. The moment they arrived at the concert, Charlotte had begun searching for Armand.
"I need to thank Armand. Helena, stay here for a moment, will you?"
"But I should offer my thanks as well—Charlotte!"
Before Helena could finish speaking, Charlotte had already vanished into the throng of people filling the concert hall. Helena stood with wide eyes, utterly bewildered by the sight.
'Yesterday she was so composed and mature, and today she's acting like a child!'
Helena exhaled softly. Rather than revealing her secret to anyone, Charlotte had instead created an opportunity for her to earn money by performing the piano she loved—accompanied by those cryptic words about living as her heart desired. Helena found herself wishing Charlotte could do the same.
"Charlotte seems to have changed somehow, lately..."
Helena murmured to herself. Whenever she attended such social gatherings, Charlotte had always been the one to dress most lavishly, eager to catch every eye. Yet today, she wore the plainest of dresses, as though she wished to be noticed by no one at all. She had disappeared in search of Armand without even taking time to greet the other gentlemen in attendance.
But Helena was not the only one who had noticed Charlotte's transformation.
"My goodness, was that young lady standing beside Miss Helena just now Miss Charlotte Augusta?"
The speaker was Mrs. Whiting, one of the three women responsible for Brentwood's gossip.
"You mean the third daughter of the Augusta sisters—the one they called 'a wildflower among sunflowers, a troublesome black sheep among well-behaved white lambs'? When did she become so beautiful?"
Another lady beside Mrs. Whiting opened her eyes wide in astonishment. The Charlotte they knew was a young woman with dull brown hair and ordinary brown eyes, standing among her fair-haired, blue-eyed beautiful sisters. She was so unremarkable that when standing beside Helena, the most beautiful of the Augusta daughters, one could scarcely notice her at all.
Mrs. Whiting nodded and spoke.
"Something must have happened over the past month. I nearly failed to recognize the lovely young lady beside Miss Helena. I always thought Miss Charlotte seemed rather frivolous with her excessive vivacity, but today she possesses a peculiar maturity and innocent beauty. Her once round, childlike forehead now appears somehow wiser. Am I imagining things?"
Then James Whiting, who stood on the other side of Mrs. Whiting, spoke up.
"I don't think it's a misunderstanding, madam. From what I've heard, Miss Charlotte Augusta managed to persuade that fastidious Armand to allow Miss Helena, who is merely a middle-class lady, to perform at the recital."
At James Whiting's words, both ladies rapidly fanned themselves—an involuntary gesture upon hearing such intriguing gossip. James Whiting opened his mouth again.
"And someone told me that Miss Charlotte borrowed a great many sonnets about love from the Library. Apparently, Miss Charlotte's eyes looked as serene and pitiful as the dew at dawn at that moment...."
James Whiting whispered. Despite his dignified demeanor, he was one of Brentwood's three gossip mongers.
"After reading sonnets about love, the childlike Miss Charlotte became a beautiful and mature lady in just a month—it's as if...."
Mrs. Whiting spoke with wide eyes. Just then, Charlotte hurried past them and was seen heading toward Armand, who was greeting people at the entrance of the recital hall. Charlotte's cheeks were beautifully flushed pink like a young lady in love, and her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
The three gossip mongers exchanged knowing glances with an "aha" expression.
***
"So you're saying there's been absolutely no progress in Prince Leopold's search situation right now?"
Charlotte pulled Armand into a corner of the estate and cried out. She had just heard from Armand the same information about the search results that Philip had conveyed last week.
"Now, wait a moment, Miss—"
Armand whispered hurriedly, glancing around. He needed to hide their conversation from the eyes and ears of those watching. Though Charlotte didn't know it, recently it wasn't only the socialites of high society who had taken an interest in her. With rumors circulating that Count's son Philip Oslo and Baron Armand Rochefort were competing for the third daughter of the Augusta Family, even gentlemen concerned with honor had begun to take an interest in Charlotte.
"How am I supposed to calm down? It's been nearly a month since His Highness disappeared, and there's still been no progress except for discovering his whereabouts!"
Charlotte spoke with her eyes blazing.
"If it were just about his whereabouts, the Search Party could have found him in a day if you'd told them, Armand. And His Highness wouldn't have disappeared right before such important negotiations regarding Holland's independence...."
Charlotte spoke, recalling her previous conversation with Philip. It was about how the Search Party officers, except for Philip, wanted to believe that Leopold had hidden himself of his own accord.
"It's not that simple, Miss. I wanted to as well, but in order to fulfill the political duties His Highness must undertake upon his return, I had to continue hiding my identity as a secret knight. So how could I possibly tell the Search Party, 'This is His Highness's secret residence in London'...?"
Armand spoke in a troubled tone. Unlike when he addressed others, he gazed at Charlotte with an earnest and solemn expression.
"Moreover, if by some chance something truly happened to Prince Leopold... I have a duty to uphold His Highness's political will."
Before Armand could finish speaking, Charlotte's head snapped up, and she glared at him.
"I thought you were a secret knight who had devoted your life to Prince Leopold, yet how can you prioritize achieving political goals over finding His Highness?"
At Charlotte's words, Armand's expression stiffened slightly.
"Miss Aurie—or rather, Miss Charlotte."
He released a short sigh and brushed back his reddish-brown hair before speaking.
"No matter how much you are known to be His Highness's beloved, I have served Prince Leopold for a very long time. And in doing so, I have often witnessed His Highness risking his life for Holland's independence."
Armand regarded Charlotte with serious eyes. He appeared displeased, yet his expression conveyed understanding.
"That is why I know that Prince Leopold would not wish for me to hastily reveal my identity and ruin all that His Highness has worked toward. Above all else, he is a man who values his country more than anything—even more than himself. So I ask that you not underestimate my loyalty."
"...."
Charlotte continued to regard Armand with angry eyes. Did she truly not know Leopold as Armand suggested? Unlike Armand, who had watched over Leopold for nearly a decade, she had known him for merely a month—and only during brief nights at that.
'Does His Highness truly hold his country above his own life, above all else? Yet the words he spoke when spending time with me....'
Over the past month, beneath the soft glow of candlelight, Leopold had slowly recalled which books he had enjoyed reading as a child. Walking through the forest at midnight, he had spoken of the beauty of nature he had forgotten. And during their first dance together, he had shared his joy in the music and dancing he had lost.
Seeing Charlotte hesitate, Armand opened his mouth again with difficulty.
"I know how much you long for His Highness, Miss Charlotte. I understand how frustrating this situation must be. But for now, let us wait patiently for the results of the English Search Party's investigation. They are interrogating the servants at His Highness's secret residence—new clues may yet emerge."
At this, Charlotte's momentum faltered. She could hear sadness in Armand's voice. When it came down to it, Armand was not merely Leopold's knight, but also a friend who genuinely respected and cherished him.
Charlotte opened her mouth with a melancholy expression.
"...I've heard that the English military regards both Prince Leopold's disappearance and his secret entry into the country as merely shameful matters. They wish to conclude that His Highness simply vanished of his own volition.... In such circumstances, do you truly believe it is wise to trust the Search Party?"
In Charlotte's voice lay genuine sorrow, not the affectation of a lover.
"As the heir apparent to the throne, the Search Party cannot afford to conduct their investigation carelessly.... Besides, I have not been idle either. Several days ago, through a Holland knight, I sent word to Prince Leopold's half-brother—Crown Prince Frederick of Holland—regarding the current state of the search, Miss Aurie."
Armand bent his long legs, attempting to meet Charlotte's eyes. A large shadow fell across her peachy complexion. As though wishing to share the hope he possessed with her, Armand continued in a soothing tone.
"And just recently, he sent a reply saying he would visit England in person. I'm certain he's just as dissatisfied with the English Search Party's progress as we are. With the Crown Prince's visit approaching, wouldn't the Search Party intensify their investigation?"
Charlotte nodded reluctantly. Perhaps Armand was right—perhaps he was doing his best within the constraints of his limited position. The Crown Prince Frederick's visit and the interrogation of the secret residence's staff might yet yield significant breakthroughs in the search. Yet Charlotte could not hide the turmoil and sorrow that weighed upon her heart.
Just then, as the concert was beginning, people throughout the estate who had been conversing made their way toward the Music Room of the Rochefort Estate.
"Miss Aurie, wouldn't you consider heading to the Music Room now as well?"
Armand gestured to Charlotte with a glance. Yet Charlotte remained standing motionless in place. When she lifted her head, Armand's eyes caught sight of an expression so sorrowful that tears would not seem out of place.
Charlotte replied quietly.
"I'll head to the Music Room in a moment. Please go ahead, Armand."
Unlike Armand, who had long practiced the guise of a secret agent, Charlotte knew she could not muster a smile for the other guests and enjoy the concert while carrying such disappointment. Armand hesitated, as if something troubled him, but as the host of the concert, he had no choice but to turn his steps toward the Music Room.
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org