“What?”
The first to react to Erdene’s words was Arkan.
He had a bewildered expression as if wondering what on earth she was talking about as if wondering if he had heard correctly.
“You are...”
The moment Arkan was about to stride toward Erdene, Montiel suddenly barged in front of him.
“What are you.. !”
“Is that okay, Your Majesty?”
Arkan’s lips parted and a hollow laugh escaped.
You’re really good at this, he thought.
Arkan glared at Erdene with his eyes wide open, and for some reason, his expression looked genuinely angry.
“Your Majesty...”
Montiel trailed off and looked up at him.
His overly sparkling eyes were burdensome to the point of driving him crazy, but Erdene just watched this scene while giggling as if she found it so funny.
Arkan left Montiel, whose eyes were shining, grabbed Erdene’s wrist, and took a few steps away from the people.
“What are you doing, now?”
“Please keep the beat.”
Arkan asked back with a dumbfounded expression.
“Rhythm? What beat?”
“I’ll explain later. For now, just do as I say.”
This again. Arkan thought.
Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on? However, Erdene pushed Arkan’s back as if there was no time to explain, and Arkan turned around and said in a cold voice.
“There’s nothing I can do since the Queen says so much. Get on.”
At that moment, Erdene couldn’t hide her laughter as she saw Montiel’s mouth split open to the side as if it was about to fall to her ear.
The servant was constantly checking Erdene’s expression and was struggling to help a noble lady onto the horse.
“You can’t do it properly!”
When Montiel, who had slipped twice from the stirrup, lost control of her temper, the servant opened his lips in shock.
However, it was not easy to say sorry.
Although she was a daughter of the Count's family, she was only following the Queen to serve her, so it was outrageous and rude for her to raise her voice in front of the King and Queen.
Arkan looked at Erdene with a displeased expression, and Pelarhar watched the situation with an incomprehensible smile.
Montiel, who had realized the gloomy atmosphere belatedly and stood with an indifferent expression, smiled awkwardly, but Erdene just stared blankly at her and said nothing.
'What on earth are you thinking?'
Arkan had no way of reading Erdene's mind.
Seeing Montiel acting wildly while remaining still, it was clear that she had something in mind, but he had no idea what Erdene was planning to do and how far he should go with her.
“I’ll get on first.”
Arkan pushed Montiel, who was just tugging at the hem of her dress, away and jumped onto the horse.
Then he grabbed Montiel’s hand, who was supported by his attendant, and pulled her up onto the horse, then sat her down in front of him.
This horse, as large as an imperial warhorse, was a horse that only Arkan could ride in Vetor, and even Erdene could not just take him and ride him around.
“Then let’s go.”
Pelarhar, who had kept his mouth shut the whole time, shrugged his shoulders and said lightly.
He and Erdene mounted their horses almost at the same time, but Arkan felt dizzy because of Montiel sitting right in front of him.
It was a strong scent that seemed to be a mixture of incompatible perfumes and colognes, and above all, he couldn’t understand the reality of riding a horse while carrying Count Zelma’s daughter as if she were his mistress.
Slowly, Arkan grabbed the reins and called out to his attendant.
“Wimborne.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything you need?”
“Send an empty carriage to the lakeside. So that Miss Zelma can ride on the way back. A small one will do.”
“Understood.”
Soon, the horses Arkan and Montiel were riding also began to move. Erdene and Pelarhar were already far ahead, and when Arkan saw their backs almost parallel, he felt an unbearable anger surge up in him.
However, Montiel’s even-tempered mouth had no time to examine Arkan’s cold expression.
“Your Majesty, why did you tell me to send a carriage? I can come back like this when I come back.”
“Even if you do it, I can’t.”
“Huh? Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know why the Queen had you on my horse. I will tell you, I never intended to take you away like this. And your perfume smells bad for horses, so take a carriage when you return.”
“But...”
“Would you please be quiet?”
Montiel turned her head forward and licked her lips.
She had no idea what the Queen was thinking. But she was sure of one thing. It was clear that neither Arkan nor Erdene were interested in each other.
Montiel mulled over the rumor that Renior, the Baron of Harrow, whom he always hung out with, had told her.
It was unclear who it came from, but that was of no use.
It was probably a cheap-mouthed royal maid or one of the servants.
More important was the content of the rumor, and Renior muttered something like this, as was his wont while making a clowning noise.
“People say that His Majesty has never slept with that woman.”
Among Montiel Zelma and his gang, Erdene was not called “Your Majesty,” “Queen,” or even “Princess,” as the old title was, but “that woman.”
They had a very peculiar contemptuous accent, and whenever Montiel and everyone else talked badly about Erdene, they would repeat the word "that woman" and snicker sinisterly.
Renior also said this.
"Honestly, even if I were a man, I don't think I would want to spend the night with a woman like that. But do you know what's even funnier? When Your Majesty would visit her bedroom once in a while, she would always pick a fight with him. Or she would make excuses. No matter how much I think about it, she must have been thinking of another man, not His Majesty. She just didn't care. his Majesty was so pitiful."
The first to react to Erdene’s words was Arkan.
He had a bewildered expression as if wondering what on earth she was talking about as if wondering if he had heard correctly.
“You are...”
The moment Arkan was about to stride toward Erdene, Montiel suddenly barged in front of him.
“What are you.. !”
“Is that okay, Your Majesty?”
Arkan’s lips parted and a hollow laugh escaped.
You’re really good at this, he thought.
Arkan glared at Erdene with his eyes wide open, and for some reason, his expression looked genuinely angry.
“Your Majesty...”
Montiel trailed off and looked up at him.
His overly sparkling eyes were burdensome to the point of driving him crazy, but Erdene just watched this scene while giggling as if she found it so funny.
Arkan left Montiel, whose eyes were shining, grabbed Erdene’s wrist, and took a few steps away from the people.
“What are you doing, now?”
“Please keep the beat.”
Arkan asked back with a dumbfounded expression.
“Rhythm? What beat?”
“I’ll explain later. For now, just do as I say.”
This again. Arkan thought.
Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on? However, Erdene pushed Arkan’s back as if there was no time to explain, and Arkan turned around and said in a cold voice.
“There’s nothing I can do since the Queen says so much. Get on.”
At that moment, Erdene couldn’t hide her laughter as she saw Montiel’s mouth split open to the side as if it was about to fall to her ear.
The servant was constantly checking Erdene’s expression and was struggling to help a noble lady onto the horse.
“You can’t do it properly!”
When Montiel, who had slipped twice from the stirrup, lost control of her temper, the servant opened his lips in shock.
However, it was not easy to say sorry.
Although she was a daughter of the Count's family, she was only following the Queen to serve her, so it was outrageous and rude for her to raise her voice in front of the King and Queen.
Arkan looked at Erdene with a displeased expression, and Pelarhar watched the situation with an incomprehensible smile.
Montiel, who had realized the gloomy atmosphere belatedly and stood with an indifferent expression, smiled awkwardly, but Erdene just stared blankly at her and said nothing.
'What on earth are you thinking?'
Arkan had no way of reading Erdene's mind.
Seeing Montiel acting wildly while remaining still, it was clear that she had something in mind, but he had no idea what Erdene was planning to do and how far he should go with her.
“I’ll get on first.”
Arkan pushed Montiel, who was just tugging at the hem of her dress, away and jumped onto the horse.
Then he grabbed Montiel’s hand, who was supported by his attendant, and pulled her up onto the horse, then sat her down in front of him.
This horse, as large as an imperial warhorse, was a horse that only Arkan could ride in Vetor, and even Erdene could not just take him and ride him around.
“Then let’s go.”
Pelarhar, who had kept his mouth shut the whole time, shrugged his shoulders and said lightly.
He and Erdene mounted their horses almost at the same time, but Arkan felt dizzy because of Montiel sitting right in front of him.
It was a strong scent that seemed to be a mixture of incompatible perfumes and colognes, and above all, he couldn’t understand the reality of riding a horse while carrying Count Zelma’s daughter as if she were his mistress.
Slowly, Arkan grabbed the reins and called out to his attendant.
“Wimborne.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything you need?”
“Send an empty carriage to the lakeside. So that Miss Zelma can ride on the way back. A small one will do.”
“Understood.”
Soon, the horses Arkan and Montiel were riding also began to move. Erdene and Pelarhar were already far ahead, and when Arkan saw their backs almost parallel, he felt an unbearable anger surge up in him.
However, Montiel’s even-tempered mouth had no time to examine Arkan’s cold expression.
“Your Majesty, why did you tell me to send a carriage? I can come back like this when I come back.”
“Even if you do it, I can’t.”
“Huh? Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know why the Queen had you on my horse. I will tell you, I never intended to take you away like this. And your perfume smells bad for horses, so take a carriage when you return.”
“But...”
“Would you please be quiet?”
Montiel turned her head forward and licked her lips.
She had no idea what the Queen was thinking. But she was sure of one thing. It was clear that neither Arkan nor Erdene were interested in each other.
Montiel mulled over the rumor that Renior, the Baron of Harrow, whom he always hung out with, had told her.
It was unclear who it came from, but that was of no use.
It was probably a cheap-mouthed royal maid or one of the servants.
More important was the content of the rumor, and Renior muttered something like this, as was his wont while making a clowning noise.
“People say that His Majesty has never slept with that woman.”
Among Montiel Zelma and his gang, Erdene was not called “Your Majesty,” “Queen,” or even “Princess,” as the old title was, but “that woman.”
They had a very peculiar contemptuous accent, and whenever Montiel and everyone else talked badly about Erdene, they would repeat the word "that woman" and snicker sinisterly.
Renior also said this.
"Honestly, even if I were a man, I don't think I would want to spend the night with a woman like that. But do you know what's even funnier? When Your Majesty would visit her bedroom once in a while, she would always pick a fight with him. Or she would make excuses. No matter how much I think about it, she must have been thinking of another man, not His Majesty. She just didn't care. his Majesty was so pitiful."
This is hilarious.
Montiel snorted slightly, thinking of Renior's dazed face, her nostrils flaring with excitement. How could she think she was something, and why would she say that she was pitiful of the King.
It was ridiculous in her opinion.
Of course, it was nice to hear gossip about Erdene.
Arkan’s horse was walking very leisurely because it couldn’t run fast with two people, especially Montiel, who was wearing clothes that were inappropriate for horseback riding. Montiel didn’t want to miss this quiet opportunity where she could hear the occasional sound of the horse’s hooves hitting the ground.
“Um... Your Majesty, I have something I want to ask you. Is that okay?”
Arkan didn’t answer and just stared ahead silently. Montiel interpreted the silence as a positive response, and she clapped her hands together and pretended to lick her lips.
“Well, actually, I heard from others that everyone is expecting a successor to Your Majesty and the Queen. Not just the bureaucrats, but also the people. Your Majesty would like a son, right? If you want to inherit the throne, you need a son. Don’t you think so?”
Arkan, who was holding the reins, answered without even looking at Montiel.
“Whether it is a son or a daughter, it has nothing to do with the succession to the throne, and I do not think it is an appropriate subject for you to bring up in front of me. As for the question of the royal succession, it is a matter for the President of the Privy Council to consider publicly, and a matter for me and the Queen in private. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand. But Your Majesty, people say that Your Majesty...”
“I don’t think you know what understanding means, Miss Zelma.”
Montiel turned to Arkan with wide eyes.
She pretended to keep her mouth shut, stung by Arkan’s stern gaze looking down at her.
“Did I offend you, Your Majesty? Forgive me.”
Montiel apologized hastily. Arkan did not answer this time either. He was offended. And very offended.
But it was not Montiel who was getting more and more angry, but Erdene’s attitude of not caring about such an absurd incident.
Erdene rode ahead, riding alongside Pelarhar.
Occasionally, when Pelarhar said something, Erdene would burst out laughing.
Originally, he should have been there, but where and how did things go wrong? Should he have told Count Zelma, who suddenly requested an audience, to leave?
If he could turn back just an hour, he would have been confident that he could have ordered Count Zelma to leave without even looking at his face.
One thought flashed through Montiel’s mind as he followed Arkan’s gleaming gaze.
She may not have the wisdom or cleverness to apply herself where it was needed, but she had no one to follow when it came to plotting ways to harass others.
“Your Majesty, this is strange.”
Montiel added, turning slightly in the direction his horse was going.
“How can Her Majesty the Queen and His Highness Pelarhar be so close?”
Montiel snorted slightly, thinking of Renior's dazed face, her nostrils flaring with excitement. How could she think she was something, and why would she say that she was pitiful of the King.
It was ridiculous in her opinion.
Of course, it was nice to hear gossip about Erdene.
Arkan’s horse was walking very leisurely because it couldn’t run fast with two people, especially Montiel, who was wearing clothes that were inappropriate for horseback riding. Montiel didn’t want to miss this quiet opportunity where she could hear the occasional sound of the horse’s hooves hitting the ground.
“Um... Your Majesty, I have something I want to ask you. Is that okay?”
Arkan didn’t answer and just stared ahead silently. Montiel interpreted the silence as a positive response, and she clapped her hands together and pretended to lick her lips.
“Well, actually, I heard from others that everyone is expecting a successor to Your Majesty and the Queen. Not just the bureaucrats, but also the people. Your Majesty would like a son, right? If you want to inherit the throne, you need a son. Don’t you think so?”
Arkan, who was holding the reins, answered without even looking at Montiel.
“Whether it is a son or a daughter, it has nothing to do with the succession to the throne, and I do not think it is an appropriate subject for you to bring up in front of me. As for the question of the royal succession, it is a matter for the President of the Privy Council to consider publicly, and a matter for me and the Queen in private. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand. But Your Majesty, people say that Your Majesty...”
“I don’t think you know what understanding means, Miss Zelma.”
Montiel turned to Arkan with wide eyes.
She pretended to keep her mouth shut, stung by Arkan’s stern gaze looking down at her.
“Did I offend you, Your Majesty? Forgive me.”
Montiel apologized hastily. Arkan did not answer this time either. He was offended. And very offended.
But it was not Montiel who was getting more and more angry, but Erdene’s attitude of not caring about such an absurd incident.
Erdene rode ahead, riding alongside Pelarhar.
Occasionally, when Pelarhar said something, Erdene would burst out laughing.
Originally, he should have been there, but where and how did things go wrong? Should he have told Count Zelma, who suddenly requested an audience, to leave?
If he could turn back just an hour, he would have been confident that he could have ordered Count Zelma to leave without even looking at his face.
One thought flashed through Montiel’s mind as he followed Arkan’s gleaming gaze.
She may not have the wisdom or cleverness to apply herself where it was needed, but she had no one to follow when it came to plotting ways to harass others.
“Your Majesty, this is strange.”
Montiel added, turning slightly in the direction his horse was going.
“How can Her Majesty the Queen and His Highness Pelarhar be so close?”
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