Chapter 32
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Chapter 32
Leopold arrived at a town called Romford, not far from Brentwood, leading Charlotte and Charles. Leopold guided Charles without a single crack of the whip and settled near a low hill.
"Wow...."
Before Leopold could say anything, Charlotte let out a loud exclamation. The center of Romford's town was adorned with iron signs hanging like inns or pubs, and in the square between those buildings stood a small stage, long dining tables, and a variety of musical instruments—all surrounded by crowds of people.
"This is like an outdoor ball! What on earth is happening here? Does such a thing as a 'midnight concert' actually exist?"
Dozens of oil lamps lit in Romford Square reflected in Charlotte's brown eyes with a crimson glow. Leopold, noticing her excited voice, smiled gently.
"People who've finished their week's work gather for a small musical gathering and party before the Sabbath arrives. For the farmers of Romford or those who work in factories near London, tonight—when they don't have to rise early tomorrow morning—is their only day of true rest."
(*The Sabbath refers to Sunday. In the 1800s, workers labored every day except Sunday, when they attended church.)
"Ah! So that's why everyone is gathered at such a late hour...."
Only then did Charlotte notice that the people gathered in the square were dressed as farmers and laborers. Their attire was more shabby than those who attended the social gatherings Charlotte frequented, yet their faces clearly bore the joy of welcoming a night of rest. They played instruments that were slightly out of tune with one another and danced in their own ways to the music, reveling in the moment.
Leopold spoke as he watched Charlotte absorbed in observing the party.
"Unfortunately, I cannot lead you into that crowd, but it is sufficient for us to appreciate the music together."
Charlotte turned to look at Leopold. Her face bore no expression of regret whatsoever—instead, it was filled with vitality that mirrored the lanterns placed throughout the midnight concert.
"This is far more fascinating than Armand's concert that I attended today. Your Highness, how did you come to know of such a place?"
In response to Charlotte's question, Leopold slowly dismounted from his horse and leaned his broad back against it before answering.
"I've had meetings with the Secret Knights here before. There's no better place than a shabby pub in a remote village to exchange information without drawing anyone's attention. Especially on the night before the Sabbath, when everyone is lost in the festivities."
"Because intoxicated people won't remember anything?"
At Charlotte's words, Leopold let out a low, pleasant laugh.
"That's right. No one would ever suspect that a foreign prince would be wandering about in a place like this."
Beyond Leopold's silhouette as he leaned against the horse, Charlotte's eyes caught sight of people singing with their arms linked together. She gathered both her legs to one side and settled comfortably atop Charles as she spoke.
"Not far from where I live, there was an entire world I never imagined existed. In that world, everyone fulfills their own role and lives with such vitality and enthusiasm. And I never even knew...."
Charlotte suddenly recalled those past days when she had anxiously compared herself to her sisters. Those moments when she had believed that everything would improve once she married, reducing her life until then to nothing but monotonous waiting.
Charlotte continued.
"...I regret that I lived a life merely waiting for that single moment when my circumstances would improve."
Sensing the doubt woven through Charlotte's voice, Charles, who had been standing quietly, shook his mane with a soft rustle. At this, Leopold turned his body while draping one arm around Charles's neck, looking up at Charlotte.
"You're far from someone who merely waits, Charlotte. More than anyone else."
Leopold's gleaming grayish-green eyes shone with a piercing brilliance, and his straight nose and forehead, turned toward her, were bathed in the delicate interplay of moonlight and shadow, lending them an air of mystery.
"Even if you are unconventional, you always devise your own plans and execute them with courage. If anything, you're sometimes so proactive it becomes a problem."
Leopold smiled as he recalled Charlotte—who had proposed a deal with him, possibly a ghost, to find a husband, and who had boldly sought out Armand to help him.
Leopold's laughter faded as his voice took on a more serious tone.
"...But I understand what you're trying to say. When I first ventured beyond the Palace, I felt many things too. Doubt, emptiness, and.... Even shame."
Shame? Charlotte turned her head to look up at Leopold. With a face sculpted to perfection that seemed utterly incompatible with such a word, he now shifted his gaze down toward the party grounds below the hill.
"Surrounded by the glittering walls of the Palace, I had overlooked so much. I believed that only the nation's independence or the formation of a united kingdom constituted a worthy cause, and that fulfilling the people's desires in such a manner was what a leader ought rightfully to do."
Leopold's grayish-green eyes settled into a calm repose. His tall frame beside the horse cast a long shadow in the moonlight.
"But once I stepped into the world beyond, I found it entangled with trivial yet far more complex problems, and the people were not the fragile beings I had observed within the Palace walls... At some point, I came to realize that royalty are not meant to fulfill the people's desires as leaders, but are merely symbolic figures who reign because of them."
A flash of realization streaked through Charlotte's mind as she listened to Leopold's words.
"Is that why your thoughts about the throne have changed?"
A faint smile graced Leopold's face as he gazed down toward the grounds below the hill.
"Your deductive skills grow sharper with each passing day, I must say."
Leopold replied in a voice as gentle as the spring breeze.
"Most people believe I was denied the throne because of my origins, or that I yielded it to Frederick. But the truth is, I made a bargain with him. In exchange for him inheriting the throne, I committed myself to achieving Holland Kingdom's independence. And once that task is complete, I intend to become a free man."
Charlotte's face brightened with astonishment. According to Leopold's account, there had never been any rivalry between the two princes over the throne from the beginning. Instead, Leopold had secured his freedom by guaranteeing Frederick—who would inherit the crown—a unified Holland Kingdom.
Hearing this unexpected answer, Charlotte drew closer to Leopold and asked.
"Then, becoming free after that means...?"
"Rest. I need respite from the life I've lived thus far, fulfilling duties and expectations not for myself, but for the station I bear."
Just then, from the party in Romford below the hill, music of a different, more serene character began to play.
Only then did Charlotte understand why Leopold had remained so composed even when speaking of news that seemed to hint at his own death.
'Just as those who complete a week's labor take their Sabbath rest....'
He seemed to yearn for rest with equal desperation. The end of a day, the night of repose. Perhaps all of this signified liberation from the political strife and power that had been thrust upon him without ever granting him the chance to choose.
'Both Philip Oslo and Armand spoke of him the same way. That His Highness Leopold would be the harbinger of change. A leader of the age bearing the expectations of all....'
From the moment his competence became known—or perhaps from the very moment he was born a prince—he had been shackled by the yoke of responsibility.
Leopold turned his gaze toward Charlotte.
"It's absurd, isn't it, Charlotte? The truth is, I don't even know what freedom truly is. And yet here I am, fleeing from the power and responsibility I've been given for the sake of some unknown value I cannot even comprehend."
A desolate sense of defeat flickered across Leopold's face, which had always appeared so steadfast.
"...Do you think me a coward for this?"
With words tinged by hesitation, Leopold's deep grayish-green eyes grew darker than ever before.
Charlotte felt a pang in her chest at the sight of Leopold's raw and honest vulnerability. She and her sisters Augusta bore only a comparatively trivial responsibility—that of marrying at the appropriate time. Yet even that burden had brought her such sorrow.
"Your Highness Leopold, if the only meaningful endeavor were to achieve great causes and make sacrifices for others...."
Charlotte struggled to find her words before finally speaking, her voice strained.
"Those people dancing and enjoying themselves down there, and ladies like myself in small towns preoccupied with finding suitors—aren't we all living meaningless lives? Or perhaps cowardly ones?"
Charlotte's warm hazel eyes sparkled with a gentle brilliance.
"But just as the joy those people share in the night has given Your Highness and me different revelations, the world is surely brimming with beauty found in the most unassuming things."
Charlotte spoke, recalling words Aunt Elicia had once shared—how difficult it was to live by the voice within one's heart, inaudible to others, like a wind felt but unseen, and why such a path was the truest way to live happily and beautifully as oneself.
The more she reflected, the more conviction filled Charlotte's voice.
"That's why Your Highness is not a coward at all. Rather, you are brave—choosing to live with genuine sincerity despite how much easier it would be to simply follow others' expectations, despite how difficult and arduous that choice truly is."
Charlotte gazed at Leopold with resolute determination. Her face was beautiful as a flower brimming with dawn's light—the sort that would have made Brentwood's gossip trio sigh in admiration once more.
Charlotte realized that the thoughts and events circling her recently shared a common thread.
'Helena beginning to act for her family and for herself, and Aunt Elicia's words about following the wind within one's heart....'
Charlotte's eyes brightened once more as she spoke.
"If Your Highness resolves to live not a hollow life devoted solely to grand causes, but a life where each moment shimmers—then perhaps, no matter what happens or when, you might live not a detached existence, but one filled with vitality and meaning every single day."
Leopold's eyes wavered at Charlotte's voice, fervent as a prayer. Yet suddenly, Charlotte grasped his true circumstances and thought to herself.
'Of course, with the moment of discovering what kind of life Your Highness truly desires, what that freedom truly means, drawing so near, this pause must feel rather frustrating....'
He had made a dangerous bargain with the crown itself, only to become a phantom. But Charlotte could not bring herself to voice this, and simply regarded Leopold calmly.
"So you are...."
As Leopold spoke, calming the grayish-green ripples that had stirred within his eyes, Charlotte witnessed the familiar gentle curve forming at the corners of his eyes—the smile that always set her heart aflutter.
"Saying that I could live a life where I notice the cuteness of the lady I'm dancing with, and feel the wistfulness of each passing night—is that what you mean?"
Charlotte watched the corners of Leopold's mouth curl upward in that familiar way and answered.
"Yes, Your Highness. A life where you tumble about in bed looking happy—that sort of life."
As I spoke, Charlotte burst into a soft, delighted laugh. The moment our eyes met, Leopold's face bloomed with an answering smile.
Beyond the hill, music and dancing continued well past midnight. Standing apart from that revelry, Charlotte found herself thinking that the Leopold she knew bore no resemblance to the man Armand and Philip described—nor to the Leopold others whispered about. He was entirely his own.
Perhaps he harbored the same realization. Leopold's presence beside her felt unexpectedly intimate, achingly familiar. A breeze drifted up from Romford Square, carrying with it the strains of music—and beneath it all, the subtle warmth of Leopold's cologne.
"It seems the nights grow shorter with each passing day, Charlotte."
Leopold spoke while gazing up at the still-darkened sky.
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