Chapter 30
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Chapter 30
I gazed down at the Forest Stream that Leopold and I had discovered together on our last venture. The dark night sky and glimmering stars flowed across the shimmering water's surface.
Behind me, the trees that had begun earnestly shedding their autumn leaves swayed in the wind. Yet the sweet, intoxicating fragrance that drifted to the tip of my nose told me that the presence at my back was far more than merely falling leaves.
A bashful smile bloomed at the corners of my lips. I kept my gaze fixed upon the stream as I spoke.
"How did you know I was here, Your Highness? And how do you always manage such dramatic entrances?"
As expected, Leopold's footsteps came to a halt beside me where I sat at the stream's edge. Now the reflection upon the water was no longer singular, but doubled.
"That's a secret, Charlotte."
A low voice that made my heartbeat quicken merely by hearing it reached my ears. When I turned my head in the direction of that voice, I beheld Leopold's form beneath the moonlight—like a wolf prowling through the forest.
"Don't you think a ghost ought to have at least one secret?"
Leopold, whose eyes had met mine, added his words with a hint of laughter in his voice. He offered me eyes both quiet and sharp, a smile both cruel and generous.
Perhaps it was unintentional on his part, but upon witnessing that expression, my heart began to thunder more violently than ever before. Ever since I had become conscious of the affection that had grown within me for him, my heart seemed to have resolved to become far more honest.
I quickly turned my head away, redirecting my gaze back to the stream. Had I not done so, I feared my face—ripened like a radish in even the faint moonlight—would be exposed.
"Very well. I won't pry any further into how you always know where I am. We already share secrets enough."
I spoke with deliberate nonchalance.
"Like this place we discovered last time...."
Not long ago, as I walked through the forest following the wind's call, this stream and the small hill rising from its midst appeared before me as if by magic. I had privately decided to think of this place as a secret sanctuary shared between Leopold and myself. Perhaps because it was here that I first became aware of the affection blossoming within me for him. This space had become something precious to me.
Leopold's gaze moved slowly, coming to rest upon my profile as I lost myself in thought. My flushed crimson cheeks and the soft brown hair tousled by the wind caught his attention.
....
After a brief silence, Leopold spoke again.
"Did you enjoy Armand's concert?"
"Pardon? Oh, well... I suppose so. Though I didn't have the leisure to truly appreciate the music."
Charlotte stammered slightly as she spoke. Of course, she had no intention of mentioning that after her conversation with Armand, her melancholy had prevented her from even entering the Music Room. Instead, Charlotte recalled the letter she had written to Philip after the recital and added:
"Regarding Your Highness's investigation, I believe I may have discovered a clue of sorts."
As Charlotte exaggerated a shrug, her soft brown hair cascaded down the nape of her neck. Her straight forehead and the long, perfectly groomed eyebrows beneath it accentuated her bold yet endearing features.
"Charlotte, you're not involving yourself in anything dangerous, are you? Like rushing off to find Armand without thought, as you did before."
Leopold raised his dark, straight eyebrows as he asked. His grayish-green eyes beneath them unconsciously traced the reddened nape of Charlotte's neck.
"No, of course not?"
Charlotte answered with an unconvincing expression. She was not yet ready to reveal to Leopold the contents of the letter she had sent to Philip.
"I have my own plan, after all."
Charlotte could only hope that her conversation with Philip would unfold exactly as she had orchestrated.
"Charlotte."
Leopold, detecting something amiss in her demeanor, called her name. At the sound of his voice—earnest yet tender—Charlotte's heart trembled softly.
Leopold spoke with a note of entreaty.
"You need not undertake anything perilous. I will do everything within my power to help you find a suitable suitor."
Charlotte felt momentarily dazed. She had completely forgotten about their agreement. Their bargain was that if she helped Leopold resolve his matter, he would assist her in finding a husband within the current social season.
Leopold continued.
"So there is no need for you to risk your honor, your life, or anything else for the sake of our agreement—"
"That's not it at all!"
Charlotte stirred from her hazy thoughts and spoke. Her assistance to Leopold was not merely to gain notice in society through his aid. She continued, her voice carrying a note of urgency.
"What I mean is... searching for His Highness is no longer about finding a suitable marriage prospect."
Charlotte longed to confess that she treasured the time spent in his company, that the sweet sandalwood fragrance emanating from him intoxicated her, and that she found herself anticipating the smile he bestowed upon her. Yet her lips sealed shut, for this unfamiliar emotion terrified her too deeply to voice aloud.
Instead, Charlotte spoke.
"My sisters and I have spent these past years studying the etiquette of ladies, attending fittings for the gowns we'll wear to the upcoming Ball, and passing our days in endless preparation. When not occupied thus, we moved between social gatherings disguised as outings, forced to wear the smiles of refined ladies we could scarcely convincingly portray."
Charlotte recalled those days brimming with anticipation. She had waited for someone to recognize her, to speak to her, to ask her to dance. When not waiting, she had studied ways to diminish that waiting—a more beautiful gown, more graceful gestures, a more bashful smile.
"On evenings without a Ball, we decorated wooden boxes with seashells or spent our time discussing whether any new unmarried gentlemen had appeared in society and whom they favored. But..."
(*A leisure activity among ladies of the middle class and above in the 1800s)
Charlotte dipped her hand into the Forest Stream as she spoke.
"Assisting His Highness is... not waiting for someone, but actively seeking them out myself."
Having finished her words, Charlotte closed her eyes briefly, then opened them. Her expression grew lighter as she continued.
"So searching for His Highness is not something I do to forcibly obtain something, but rather something my heart naturally desires. Like the wind blowing through the forest, entirely natural..."
Charlotte turned her gaze gently toward Leopold. Though her clumsy heart could not be fully expressed in words, everything she had said was sincere.
My feelings toward His Highness, ending the lifetime of waiting I've always known—it all stems from my desire to unravel the mystery of Leopold.
As her thoughts concluded, her soft hair cascaded gently across her small, rounded face. Below, the rippling waters of the Forest Stream, illuminated by moonlight, cast a contemplative glow upon her visage.
Receiving Charlotte's gaze, Leopold's eyes hardened slightly.
What is this? he wondered.
As Leopold looked upon Charlotte's face tilted upward toward him, he found himself haunted by visions of her past—how with each meeting she had greeted him with greater warmth, how even as the night deepened and sleep weighed upon her eyes, she had smiled at him.
When did you cease to be merely innocent?
Charlotte, whom he had remembered as so bright and lovely, now gazed at him with a composure that held something both resolute and poignant. She resembled one who had just finished reading a beautiful, melancholic poem—or perhaps the very protagonist of that poem itself.
Unaware of Leopold's thoughts, Charlotte offered him a faint smile. Then, her lips—which seemed unusually crimson as cherry blossoms this particular evening—moved as she spoke.
"So before you tell me not to help Your Highness, you must first make me a promise. Until this matter is resolved, until you return to your important and serious life...."
Charlotte's voice grew increasingly faint, swallowed by the gentle murmur of the forest stream.
"...that you will always appear by my side like this."
Yet Leopold heard every delicate thread of Charlotte's words with perfect clarity. The hardness that had seemed to settle in his gaze softened once more. Perhaps there was even a hint of sorrow in his expression.
"Ha...."
Leopold let out a faint laugh. Drawn by the gentle, refreshing sound of his laughter, Charlotte looked at him again. Then Leopold brushed one side of his face with his hand and spoke.
"...It seems I was not alone in wishing to share even the last fragment of this night."
Leopold gazed at Charlotte quietly for a long moment, his expression tinged with melancholy. Charlotte, uncertain how to respond to his gaze, could only blink her eyes.
Leopold committed to memory the lovely image of Charlotte, bathed in the warmth of the night that had not yet ended. Then he murmured softly once more.
"If fortune smiles upon me, perhaps I might see you again when the next day comes."
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