“Judith.”
When Franz called her name, Judith's fingertips trembled. Seeing this, Franz's eyebrows slightly drooped, and Cheraan almost grabbed Judith's shoulders and shook her.
‘Your Highness now is not the time to be shaking like that. His Highness the Prince misunderstands!'
Franz, who had been watching Judith, who could hardly open her mouth, quietly took a step back. At that moment, the gazes of Bartholomew and Cheraan, who were watching this scene from afar, collided in the air.
Although no one said a word, their gazes were saying the same thing.
'Stuffy!'
It was obvious from the outside that the two people had affection for each other. Although it may not have been love in the form of it, it was clear from the fact that Judith was blushing and unable to say a word and Franz had a worried expression on his face as he looked at Judith.
Nevertheless, it seemed like misunderstandings were building up between the two. Cheraan felt sorry for Judith but found it cute. How outrageous is it that she was unable to say a word out of shyness in front of Franz, who was in a high mood after a long time while doing something that would have been difficult for her to bear with her bare mind without blinking.
"Your Highness."
Cheraan, who was inferior, opened her voice cheerfully.
“You sweated a lot from working out, so it would be a good idea to wash up before dinner.”
Franz, who had been looking at her face blankly, said "Ah" and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. Then he turned to Basholomew.
“You too, follow me. Your whole body is covered in dirt.”
“I need to look into some sponsorship. It’s because the dust flies like this.”
Perhaps because he was conscious of Cheraan and Judith, while training with Franz, Bartholomew picked up the swords for sparring and put them away. As he followed Franz ahead, his eyes turned to Cheraan's waist.
“It would be nice to have something thinner and more colorful to use for decoration.”
Bartholomew said indifferently. It was something he came up with without even realizing it, as he couldn't imagine that noble ladies, much less a maid serving the Prince and Princess, would carry a sword for anything other than decorative purposes. But as soon as she heard those words, Cheraan's eyebrows perked up.
"I beg your pardon?"
“That sword. The handle seemed a bit rough to match the dress. The rapier with a ruby-like object is much more...”
At that moment, Cheraan returned her hand to her waist, pulled out the sword from her leather belt, and placed it next to Bartholomew's cheek. When she untied the string that bound it, the sword sheath slid off, revealing the sword's blade with a blue edge.
“Cheraan!”
Surprised Judith let out a small scream. However, Bartholomew did not move as he glanced at the handle of the sword touching his cheek and the long sword exposed below. Considering the sight of him sparring with Franz, it's not that he couldn't react, but it's probably because he has good guts. The corners of Cheraan’s mouth rose slanted.
“As you can see, this is not for decoration.”
“...Excuse me, but aren’t you a bit impatient?”
With a laugh, the sword was pushed aside. Since he didn't threaten with much force in the first place, Cheraan shrugged her shoulders, picked up the sheath that had fallen on the floor, and put the sword back in. A hint of curiosity arose in Bartholomew's eyes at the simple movements. But it was only for a moment.
“Now I know who you are.”
“Oh my, the Duke’s spirit knows even the most trivial names. It is an honor."
“There’s a story I heard before entering the training camp. There is a daughter in the family of the Marquis of Ebelta, whose temperament is as fiery as her hair.”
Cheraan hummed and snorted. Bartholomew's eyes, which were drooping down, seemed to deepen, and a strange smile appeared.
“If I get the chance, I should learn something from you.”
“That is also an honor. I’ll be happy to wait.”
Bartholomew's head shook horizontally as she refused to give up even a word. But it didn't seem unpleasant. After both people disappeared into the palace, Cheraan looked at Judith with a mischievous expression.
“You were surprised.”
"I was really surprised. Why did you do that to Bartholomew?”
“I don’t like the attitude that if a woman carries a sword, it must be an ornament.”
“I didn’t think it was with bad intentions...”
“Of course it is. But sometimes callous ignorance is worse than malice.”
At Cheraan's words, Judith finally laughed a little. She knew Bartholomew didn't mean to ignore Cheraan, but she could understand what Cheraan was saying. Judith too, has had endless experiences like that.
“Why did you do that to His Highness?”
"Uh? What am I?”
“A little while ago. Wasn’t His Highness the Prince worried since you didn’t answer anything?”
Judith's cheeks, which seemed to have calmed down a bit, turned red again. Cheraan, who was watching this, clicked her tongue inside. No matter how much she thought about it, it seemed like Franz had a very long way to go. The same goes for Judith.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile like that..."
Judith barely whispered in a low voice. It was true. That wasn't the first time she saw Franz in this life, but seeing him smiling without any worries or shadows like he did today was something he had never even imagined.
And, Judith was once again surprised by the fact that she thought that. As she thought of his always gloomy, always heavy, and sorrowful appearance, she thought of placing a crown on his head.
Judith felt extremely sad and sorry that she had never once thought of a happy Franz. But she couldn't say any of those many words. Because she didn't know what to say first or what expression to look at his face.
“You’ll be seeing a lot of them in the future.”
Cheraan said comfortingly. Judith replied, “Is that so?”, but her attitude was not very strong.
Will he be happy? No, can I make him happy?
Even though he was unhappy, Judith planned to make him King. To do that, she would not hesitate even if a sea of fire was placed in front of her. If you were to walk barefoot on a thorny path, wouldn’t you be able to walk it a hundred times?
But. Even if Judith sits him on a shining golden throne and places a brilliant crown on his head if he cannot live a happy life, can she call that a success?
“You...”
"Yes?"
“What makes you happy?”
Cheraan's lips pursed in response to Judith's question. It was a question that was both easy and difficult. As for Franz's happiness, she had never thought about such things. For Cheraan, Judith's safety was the only priority.
“Your Highness...”
“....”
“Don’t you think that if His Highness is happy, you are happy too?”
Can’t I just answer like this?
But. Even if Judith sits him on a shining golden throne and places a brilliant crown on his head if he cannot live a happy life, can she call that a success?
“You...”
"Yes?"
“What makes you happy?”
Cheraan's lips pursed in response to Judith's question. It was a question that was both easy and difficult. As for Franz's happiness, she had never thought about such things. For Cheraan, Judith's safety was the only priority.
“Your Highness...”
“....”
“Don’t you think that if His Highness is happy, you are happy too?”
Can’t I just answer like this?
Cheraan secretly noticed Judith's feelings.
Giving advice on the delicate relationship between a man and a woman was close to impossible for Cheraan now. That's because she's not very interested in that.
By nature, maids who serve a Queen, Princess, or Prince consort are expected to exercise their wits in this area. Cheraan shoved her head. From today onwards, she wondered whether she should stop by the maids in the mansion and ask them one by one about the relationship between men and women.
“If I’m happy, he’ll be happy too.”
"That...sure. My father always says this too. She says that if my mother feels good, then he feels good too.”
"Yes?"
It wasn't a lie, but for some reason, it felt like a lie and cold sweat broke out on Cheraan's back. It almost occurred to her that it would be quicker to grab Franz and ask him a question rather than repeating this question-like story.
As Franz said, dinner was held at the Astel Palace. Franz, Judith, Bartholomew, and suddenly Cheraan also sat down together.
Normally, serving maids would not eat at the same table as their masters, but in some cases, this was tolerated. Although they served as servants, they were also nobles by birth, so it was not a disadvantage.
Although the table with four people seated around it was small, the food was meticulously prepared. The cook in charge of Astel Palace tended to subtly take care of Franz while keeping in mind Queen Gilsis. Since they had seen him since she was young, it seemed they couldn't confiscate his face overnight just because the late Queen died.
“You’re training to become a comber.”
"That's right. I’m now about a year away from being discharged.”
The conversation was mainly led by Cheraan and Bartholomew. Franz was naturally quiet, and since he did not speak, Judith did not want to talk either.
It was obvious that the long-awaited meal would end in silence if they waited for the Prince and his wife to open their mouths, so the two people stepped forward and started talking.
Among them, the story of Bartholomew's training camp played a major role. From funny stories of classmates he met while training to unusual training content...
Giving advice on the delicate relationship between a man and a woman was close to impossible for Cheraan now. That's because she's not very interested in that.
By nature, maids who serve a Queen, Princess, or Prince consort are expected to exercise their wits in this area. Cheraan shoved her head. From today onwards, she wondered whether she should stop by the maids in the mansion and ask them one by one about the relationship between men and women.
“If I’m happy, he’ll be happy too.”
"That...sure. My father always says this too. She says that if my mother feels good, then he feels good too.”
"Yes?"
It wasn't a lie, but for some reason, it felt like a lie and cold sweat broke out on Cheraan's back. It almost occurred to her that it would be quicker to grab Franz and ask him a question rather than repeating this question-like story.
***
As Franz said, dinner was held at the Astel Palace. Franz, Judith, Bartholomew, and suddenly Cheraan also sat down together.
Normally, serving maids would not eat at the same table as their masters, but in some cases, this was tolerated. Although they served as servants, they were also nobles by birth, so it was not a disadvantage.
Although the table with four people seated around it was small, the food was meticulously prepared. The cook in charge of Astel Palace tended to subtly take care of Franz while keeping in mind Queen Gilsis. Since they had seen him since she was young, it seemed they couldn't confiscate his face overnight just because the late Queen died.
“You’re training to become a comber.”
"That's right. I’m now about a year away from being discharged.”
The conversation was mainly led by Cheraan and Bartholomew. Franz was naturally quiet, and since he did not speak, Judith did not want to talk either.
It was obvious that the long-awaited meal would end in silence if they waited for the Prince and his wife to open their mouths, so the two people stepped forward and started talking.
Among them, the story of Bartholomew's training camp played a major role. From funny stories of classmates he met while training to unusual training content...
As he spoke, he glanced at Franz from time to time, but he seemed to be thinking about something and just kept his mouth shut.
'It's going to spin, really.'
Franz couldn't even talk to him. Cheraan is said to be helping, but isn't that also limited?
'It's going to spin, really.'
Franz couldn't even talk to him. Cheraan is said to be helping, but isn't that also limited?
Bartholomew, who was rolling his eyes, tapped Franz on the shoulder with his arm.
"Why?"
Franz's voice as he answered was so strange that it made him angry. This bastard is talking so loudly that his remaining mouth hurts, and he's eating pigeon pâté!
“Your Highness, do you like the pigeon pate?”
What happened all of a sudden?
"Why?"
Franz's voice as he answered was so strange that it made him angry. This bastard is talking so loudly that his remaining mouth hurts, and he's eating pigeon pâté!
“Your Highness, do you like the pigeon pate?”
What happened all of a sudden?
Franz looked at Bartholomew with a puzzled look and then looked down at his plate again.
"Why? If you want to eat, ask for more.”
“No, that’s not it. It looks like you’re not even breathing.”
It was then. Judith, who had been silently listening to the conversation between the two, could not hold back her laughter and lowered her head. Only then did Franz realize that Bartholomew had been teasing him, and his ears turned slightly red.
“Do you know how many years in prison you can get if you mock the royal family, trainee Bartholomew?”
“Now you’re going to throw me in jail. Your Highness the Princess, did you hear? Did you marry him knowing that he was like this?”
"Why? If you want to eat, ask for more.”
“No, that’s not it. It looks like you’re not even breathing.”
It was then. Judith, who had been silently listening to the conversation between the two, could not hold back her laughter and lowered her head. Only then did Franz realize that Bartholomew had been teasing him, and his ears turned slightly red.
“Do you know how many years in prison you can get if you mock the royal family, trainee Bartholomew?”
“Now you’re going to throw me in jail. Your Highness the Princess, did you hear? Did you marry him knowing that he was like this?”
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