“Flavia?”
At Franz's call, Flavia's eyes opened wide as if they were about to pop out. She didn't respond, and Flavia, who had been looking around as if she was being chased by something, walked towards Franz with an awkward smile at first glance.
"Hello... Your Highness. Your Highness the Prince...”
Rogero smiled and lowered his head. Afterward, Bartholomew also gave her his greetings with courtesy.
“Are you looking for Judith?”
When Franz asked, Flavia looked up with a slightly surprised expression and then answered in a low voice, 'No.' Franz looked puzzled, so she quickly added her words.
“I was just walking...”
“Without a maid?”
“Ho, alone... I want to walk quietly alone. So...”
Anyone who knew Flavia at all knew that she would never go out for a walk alone, but Franz did not know this. It was the same with Bartholomew.
Although Bartholomew did not dislike Flavia as openly as Cheraan, he could not help but dislike her as she was the Princess of Krald and had a close relationship with the Queen. Also, even if there was no such situation, Bartholomew and Flavia were personalities that were not compatible with each other. There was no need to say anything more to Judith, who was not even a Rotarian.
Therefore, they took Flavia’s words at face value. There was only one person, Rogero, who was watching Flavia with somewhat mischievous interest, but he did not tease her as openly as he did with Bartholomew.
“Then enjoy your walk.”
Franz gave a polite greeting and turned to leave. When Rogero and Bartholomew turned to follow him, glancing behind them, Flavia's urgent voice suddenly caught them by their heels.
“Hey, hey, to me... I have something to tell you!”
She meant to shout in her own way, but the voice that came out was weak. But Franz could not ignore it. He turned around. Flavia's face turned bright red.
“What do you have to say to me?”
“Uh, over there... Well, that...”
Flavia hesitated, putting the edge of her glove in her mouth. Just as Bartholomew was about to intervene, Rogero spoke.
“It seems the Princess has some important business to attend to. We’ll go in first, so come in when you're done talking.”
Bartholomew paused. However, Rogero's grip on his forearm was too strong. Bartholomew, who realized that he was deliberately avoiding the place, glanced behind him with a somewhat anxious expression and entered the Argent Palace with Rogero.
“Your Highness, why are you like this? That person is the second Princess. How close is the relationship between the Prince and you?”
“I know enough to know.”
“Well, knowing enough to know... But what are you doing now?”
Only then did Bartholomew notice that Rogero's attitude was a little strange. Even after entering the palace, Rogers did not want to leave where he was standing. After passing through the corridor, Franz and Flavia were still standing there, as if they were nailed to the spot. Just as Bartholomew was about to say something, Rogero raised his index finger and narrowed his eyes.
"You don't know?"
“I don’t know?”
“Look at that woman’s eyes.”
“By that woman, do you mean the second Princess?”
“Okay, look carefully. You can see it from here too.”
What on earth are you talking about?
Bartholomew frowned and, like Rogero, pressed his forehead against the glass window and looked out. Flavia and Franz were still standing there, talking about something. Flavia seemed to be the one doing most of the talking, and Franz seemed to be listening, occasionally nodding his head or making a short reply.
“I heard she doesn’t even try to speak properly in front of others. I never thought the day would come when I would see her talking so much.”
It was Bartholomew's muttering to himself, but Rogero continued to smile as he wondered what he was thinking.
“This is probably the first time in her life she met someone she wants to stand face to face with and talk to.”
“What do you mean by that, Your Highness?”
“Uh, I thought Franz was the only one with a piece of wood, but there was a piece of wood here too. No, you are much taller than Franz, so should I call you a log? What if I call you Log from now on?”
Bartholomew frowned at the endless criticism. Rogero, who was leaning his head against the glass window and watching the situation outside the window, giggled between his teeth.
“Well, in this situation, it’s a good thing that he’s a piece of wood.”
“What on earth does that mean...”
At that moment, Bartholomew's expression changed moment by moment, his words trailing off. He closed his mouth at first, then opened his meekly drooping eyes. And by the end, he had a formidable, frozen look on his face. Bartholomew straightened his posture and looked down at Rogero.
“Your Highness, you are imagining things too much.”
“Too much? Can you say that even when you look into those eyes?”
“No way! Even after experiencing Franz, don’t you still understand? Do you think he would do something so shameless!”
“Do you know who is talking about Franz as well? Of course, Franz is innocent. Look at me, even now. See it? The woman is going crazy because of the child, but that guy is so calm and weak. If he knows everything and is still perpetrating it, then I should at least hang him from a beam.”
Bartholomew's cold expression slightly crumpled at the harsh self-torture that came out of nowhere. It was unclear for him to judge whether Rogero was sincerely saying this or if he was just saying something.
“Why are you saying that His Highness the Prince is hanging himself?”
“Because I’ve been looking at people completely wrong for four years. If your eyes and brain are so useless, why live if you should die?”
“Your Highness, I know you are exceptionally bright, but really... Probably not. Not only Franz, but as far as I know, the second Princess...”
“I heard she doesn’t even try to speak properly in front of others. I never thought the day would come when I would see her talking so much.”
It was Bartholomew's muttering to himself, but Rogero continued to smile as he wondered what he was thinking.
“This is probably the first time in her life she met someone she wants to stand face to face with and talk to.”
“What do you mean by that, Your Highness?”
“Uh, I thought Franz was the only one with a piece of wood, but there was a piece of wood here too. No, you are much taller than Franz, so should I call you a log? What if I call you Log from now on?”
Bartholomew frowned at the endless criticism. Rogero, who was leaning his head against the glass window and watching the situation outside the window, giggled between his teeth.
“Well, in this situation, it’s a good thing that he’s a piece of wood.”
“What on earth does that mean...”
At that moment, Bartholomew's expression changed moment by moment, his words trailing off. He closed his mouth at first, then opened his meekly drooping eyes. And by the end, he had a formidable, frozen look on his face. Bartholomew straightened his posture and looked down at Rogero.
“Your Highness, you are imagining things too much.”
“Too much? Can you say that even when you look into those eyes?”
“No way! Even after experiencing Franz, don’t you still understand? Do you think he would do something so shameless!”
“Do you know who is talking about Franz as well? Of course, Franz is innocent. Look at me, even now. See it? The woman is going crazy because of the child, but that guy is so calm and weak. If he knows everything and is still perpetrating it, then I should at least hang him from a beam.”
Bartholomew's cold expression slightly crumpled at the harsh self-torture that came out of nowhere. It was unclear for him to judge whether Rogero was sincerely saying this or if he was just saying something.
“Why are you saying that His Highness the Prince is hanging himself?”
“Because I’ve been looking at people completely wrong for four years. If your eyes and brain are so useless, why live if you should die?”
“Your Highness, I know you are exceptionally bright, but really... Probably not. Not only Franz, but as far as I know, the second Princess...”
“Well, was there a rumor that the second princess had a very wonderful and noble personality?”
“No, it’s not like that. So to speak, so... Maybe I don't have the courage to harbor such immoral thoughts...”
Rogero snorted.
“Do you think it takes courage to harbor an immoral mind? I want to have what belongs to others, I want to see others unhappy, and I want to destroy others. Even the weakest person can think like that. Just because they are weak doesn’t mean they are weak in my imagination.”
“Of course not, but even if... Even if that were true, it wouldn’t be like this...”
“She won’t be able to come to show off? Hey, Bartholomew. After listening to you, I understand the whole situation better.”
It was at a banquet a few days ago that Rogero began to notice Flavia's appearance, or more precisely, her gaze looking at Franz. Franz laughed it off, thinking that Rogero had mistaken her, but if someone had made a bet right then and there about Flavia's true feelings, he would have bet that Rogero would be the Prince of the empire.
To see it through a third party's eyes, those eyes were clearly in love. It wasn't just that he was enamored with it, it was a look in the eyes that could have made him rush at the other person at any cost and drag them into the mud.
Even after hearing that she was the second Princess, Rogero did not think that he had misunderstood Flavia's intentions. In fact, the feeling just got weirder.
A woman who looks at her husband's older brother with eyes that seem to be burning with a thirst for affection, even the status of a Princess. If Rogero and Franz had not known each other, he would have giggled and said that he would watch all the funny scandals, but since that was not the case, he unconsciously turned on his nerves.
“Even though she is a Princess, she is so weak and courageous that she is afraid of appearing in front of others. She probably hasn't been recognized by anyone in her life. She wouldn't have received any affection. I also heard a bit about Prince Krald. At that age, the government has already become so violent that you can’t even count it on your fingers?”
“That’s true, but...”
“That life must have been hell. Imagine giving a pretty, shiny spider web to someone struggling in an endless hell. What is he going to do?”
“... It will hang on. Desperately.”
“For that woman, the second Princess, Franz is the spider’s web.”
Bartholomew looked at Rogero with a frown on his face, then turned his gaze back out the window. He didn't know what the conversation was about, but he didn't think there would be a topic worth talking about for such a long time between her and Franz.
“If what His Highness the Prince said is true, isn’t it time to be here like this?”
“What are you going to do? Are you going to go out and force Franz to come in? Then what do you plan on explaining?”
“That’s it...”
The answer rose up in his throat, wondering if it would be okay to be honest, but even Bartholomew knew that was not the answer. Given Franz's personality, it was clear that he would think such words were nonsense. His relationship with Krald could not be good, but he might try to protect Flavia since she was not guilty.
Rogero was thinking the same thing. Therefore, even though he had already guessed the situation from the night of the banquet, he did not think to tell Franz. However, it would be troublesome if the problem grew bigger and bigger like this.
“Then what should I do?”
Bartholomew stamped his feet impatiently. He may be a bit better than Franz, but even he wasn't the type of person to think about things like this.
Rogero crossed his arms and exhaled slowly through his nose.
“For now, we have no choice but to watch. What else can we do? Isn’t that right?”
“I should at least tell the Her Highness...”
“You spoke to Her Highness and asked her to do something. Do you want to see the two Princesses fighting while holding each other by the collar?”
"...No."
Bartholomew's momentum, which seemed as if he would run into the palace at any moment, subsided in an instant. Rogero shrugged his shoulders in a casual manner.
“Well, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for someone to say something before it gets more serious. They say you go blind when you fall in love, right? Who knows, maybe if we forcibly remove the blindfold, he will come to his senses?”
“Who would do that?”
“Well, who should do it?”
Rogero grinned. His smile seemed to somehow show a hint of malice.
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