Celine, who saw Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal return outside the window, headed straight to the admiral's room.
The admiral, who had been sitting at his desk reading papers when she started to cry, took off his glasses and jumped up to look at her.
“My Princess, what’s wrong?”
The admiral's face, unlike when he met Diana, was gentle and kind, like that of a father. Even his usually firm and firm voice softened.
"Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal is personally heading out on a rescue operation. Please stop him, Dad."
Celine's eyes were as wet as buds soaked in spring rain. Having talked about Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal several times, he knew Celine had feelings for him.
The admiral, who cherished Celine very much, felt compassion for her gloomy expression and held her in his arms.
"I've already told the commander. Wouldn't it be a problem if the lieutenant colonel got injured or killed because of that kid?"
“His Excellency the Prime Minister has nothing to say?”
The admiral's brow furrowed slightly as he remembered Lieutenant Colonel Damien Groenendaal, the father of the noble Duke of Groenendaal and Prime Minister of Belford.
"He's someone who doesn't care about his children. Furthermore, he values glory and honor more."
Officers from noble families are not deployed to the front lines, battlefields, or dangerous operations. While some may go directly to the battlefield to earn a title through distinguished service, this is typically a path chosen by third- or fourth-generation sons, who are not the eldest or second sons and are thus outside the hereditary line.
It was unusual for a lieutenant colonel, the second son of a direct descendant of the Duke family, to infiltrate an enemy country. The admiral paused in thought.
It is possible that Lieutenant Colonel Jeffrey Groenendaal had the intention of becoming the successor to the Groenendaal family.
Dukes hold various titles, including Marquis and Count. The eldest and second sons of a Duke's family receive the secondary titles of Marquis and Count, respectively. These titles are not hereditary but rather temporary.
If the eldest son of the Groenendaal family becomes a Duke, the second son, Lieutenant Colonel Jeffrey Groenendaal, could become a simple nobleman or a member of the untitled estate, so it's not impossible if he has the ambition. However, if he dies there, this could be held accountable.
"I'll try to stop it somehow. I don't want my daughter to be sad."
The admiral smiled gently, soothing and comforting Celine.
Despite the admiral's efforts, criticism was growing louder within Belford for not actively rescuing Diana, who was being held hostage by the enemy Frogen.
It was by far the hottest issue in the Belford Empire.
"Who will be the hero to save the admiral's daughter?"
"Belford is not even trying to negotiate... They're ignoring the poor girl."
Articles with such provocative titles began to pour in. Some magazines even went so far as to speculate about the possible horrors Diana might face if kidnapped by a mad enemy colonel.
"The colonel who kidnapped me is quite ruthless, even though he's a spy. He must be going through some terrible things right now."
"Why would he be called the Mad Duke? He doesn't even bat an eye when he kills people."
"Poor girl, she was so sick she didn't even appear in society. Sacrifice for the country? Did the Admiral choose fame over his ailing daughter? He's truly unworthy of a father."
People pitied Diana as a girl, not as an admiral's daughter.
In Belford, Noah's image was that of a war-mongering, slaughter-loving, like a colonel from an enemy country.
Parents of daughters trembled at the thought of being captured by such a fearsome man, and girls of the same age wept and prayed for Diana, whose face they had never even known.
It was Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal who created all this public opinion.
To create an excuse to go rescue Diana himself.
Prime Minister Damian Groenendaal, the lieutenant colonel's father, didn't mind his son becoming a hero who saved the girl. He loves honor. When the subject was discussed in parliament, the prime minister made a weighty remark.
“No one should interfere with my son’s choice. As a father, I have given my permission.”
As the Duke of Belford and Prime Minister, his decision was practically unassailable. Most believed the lieutenant colonel was leading the rescue operation to become Belford's hero, but he had a different view.
He had something to protect.
“Is this a date?”
“Isn’t it good?”
I was trapped in the suffocating car, dragged by Noah's hand, hurtling toward the city. Vincent, with a look of extreme discomfort, was merely acting as chauffeur, while Noah continued to observe me, his gaze fixed on me with a curious gaze, like a cat gazing at a bird perched on a branch outside the window.
“I thought it would be nice to go on a date because I usually dress up nicely when I go on dates.”
“Yes. I’m so excited. It’s my first date.”
"This is my first time," I replied absentmindedly, resting my chin on my elbows on the windowsill. Noah leaned his face close to mine and whispered in my ear.
“Princess. Is that a thrilling expression?”
Noah's lips brushed against my ear, his breath lingering on my ear. The unexpected contact made me shiver, and I pulled away.
Are you crazy, seriously!
“Ugh... that expression is so crazy and exciting.”
“Your eyes are wide. You get excited and startled.”
He nodded, his lips curled as if he'd made some great discovery. Like someone keeping an observation journal.
“What do you want to do?”
“I’ve never dated here before, so I’m not sure...”
"Vincent, what do you usually do on dates? I don't really know."
How could he not know how to date? This guy is secretly being a bit of a fox.
I coughed and just looked out the window.
“I don’t know because I’ve never dated here.”
Vincent spoke in a firm tone, turning the steering wheel. Noah lifted his upper body and leaned closer to Vincent, who was sitting in the driver's seat.
“You know, that woman’s name was Justice?”
"She married another man a long time ago and has a child. It's been so long since we dated that I'm a bit hazy."
“Remember quickly.”
“Don’t whisper in my ear.”
Arriving at the town square, he parked the car, got out, and Noah, who was escorting me, gestured to Vincent.
“Go home. We’re going on a date.”
“That’s what I tried to do.”
Soldiers disembarked from the military vehicles that followed and followed. Vincent, looking tired, nodded and hurriedly walked away.
Light snowflakes fluttered across the overcast sky. The snow that had already piled up on the streets had been neatly swept to one side. A large canal traversing the square and the city center was visible, flanked by signs for shops, craft shops, furniture stores, tailors, and banks.
On the bridge connecting them, a large crowd of people gathered, gazing at the sky. Some were wrapped in luxurious fur or wool coats, others in layers of worn-out overcoats. Despite the apparent disparity between rich and poor, their attire suggested a shared purpose.
I pulled Noah's sleeve out of curiosity.
“What day is it today?”
"Today marks the 30th anniversary of Emperor Frogen's ascension to the throne, so we're having a fireworks display. We've been celebrating for 30 years."
When the people who had quickly arrived and taken over the prime spot for the fireworks saw Noah, they took off their hats, bowed, and offered him their spot. Their expressions seemed to say, "Why is this person here?"
The noblewomen looked back and forth between me and Noah, their eyes filled with jealousy. Noah looked down at me with concern.
“I don’t think you’ll be able to see it because you're short. Should I give you a ride on my shoulder?”
“No, don’t do that. You’re a high-ranking official in the army, and you’re a Duke.”
What would I be if I climbed on the neck of someone tall?
Here and there, firecrackers exploded with a deafening roar, sending small sparks and ash falling onto the river.
A massive fireworks display unfolded like a blooming flower, sparkling and decorating the pitch-black sky. Thousands of people erupted in cheers of amazement and admiration.
The beautifully etched light in the sky faded, ash scattered, and the characteristic sulfurous smell of firecrackers filled the air.
A boat filled with yellow daffodils, the symbol of the Frogen royal family, floated on the canal, and a woman on board released the daffodils onto the river. Clowns scattered colored paper pieces, and a magician with a wand released doves.
Perhaps my love of fireworks is a universal instinct, but the streets were teeming with people. I dislike crowds, but the fireworks were beautiful. It felt like I was on a trip abroad, and it was a unique experience.
Fortunately, thanks to the influence of a high-ranking official accompanied by a soldier, I was able to enjoy the view from a prime vantage point without being squeezed into the crowd. I gazed up at the fireworks in the sky, my neck aching, then turned my head slightly to look at Noah.
Perhaps because he was tall, he was relaxed and only slightly raised his chin.
Noah, who had been staring blankly at the fireworks, immediately looked down at me, as if he had been focusing all his attention on me.
He asked with a lazy look on his face.
“Have you ever seen fireworks?”
“Yes. What about Noah?”
“I’ve seen it a lot on the battlefield, so I don’t feel anything special.”
Oh my... Even though he's a high-ranking noble, he's been to war often. Understandably, he'd become insensitive to killing people and had a rather peculiar personality. At a loss for words, I patted him on the back.
“It must have been hard on the battlefield. It must have been scary.”
“Are you worried about me?”
Noah's eyes crinkled prettily, and he smiled. Colorful fireworks lit up the sky, creating a spectacular sight.
“It’s spectacular. It’s a breathtaking view...”
I couldn't help but admire the man, who had his back to the sky and created a magnificent view. His silver hair was dyed in various colors, like a rainbow. I quickly averted my gaze, feeling as if my soul was about to be taken away.
As the fireworks ended, the people who had gathered like a swarm of ants began to disperse.
“Where are you going now?”
“Let’s go to my house.”
“Do you have another house?”
Noah tilted his head at my question, as if I was asking something obvious.
“Yes. There are castles, mansions, and villas. There are also some in the capital.”
“Yes, you are rich.”
Of course, he's rich. He's probably got a high salary and inherited some wealth. I just asked because I had nothing else to say.
He looked slightly satisfied with the words I threw out.
“Enough to feed the Princess.”
He keeps making work comments that I can't tell if he's serious or joking.
Have you tried flirting with many women? I don't think you'll get them without trying. Anyway, since I'm in love with them, I responded as best I could.
My goal is to endure while adjusting appropriately.
“Wow~ I’ll have to spend all that money when I get married.”
His voice was listless, but Noah's eyes widened at the word "marriage." Why did he react so seriously when I said such things to him, when he could say them so casually?
“Diana, do you really want to marry me?”
"Yes. If my husband were rich, I wouldn't mind. I can eat meat every day. I'm a materialistic person to the core, after all."
I gave him a playful chuckle, as if to suggest I was just joking. Noah's face was relaxed and unhurried, like a contented beast. It was like a tiger's expression, like a cat slumped in the sunlight.
“I see. I will become the Princess’s husband.”
“Haha, just kidding...”
"Are you kidding? Let's go to the archbishop tomorrow and make our wedding vows."
His final words that followed sounded distant and far away.
“A proposal after fireworks? My Princess is such a romantic.”
It's crazy?
I underestimated him again, overlooking many things. That this madman never let my words slip. That he was happy to drive me into a corner and watch.
The admiral, who had been sitting at his desk reading papers when she started to cry, took off his glasses and jumped up to look at her.
“My Princess, what’s wrong?”
The admiral's face, unlike when he met Diana, was gentle and kind, like that of a father. Even his usually firm and firm voice softened.
"Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal is personally heading out on a rescue operation. Please stop him, Dad."
Celine's eyes were as wet as buds soaked in spring rain. Having talked about Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal several times, he knew Celine had feelings for him.
The admiral, who cherished Celine very much, felt compassion for her gloomy expression and held her in his arms.
"I've already told the commander. Wouldn't it be a problem if the lieutenant colonel got injured or killed because of that kid?"
“His Excellency the Prime Minister has nothing to say?”
The admiral's brow furrowed slightly as he remembered Lieutenant Colonel Damien Groenendaal, the father of the noble Duke of Groenendaal and Prime Minister of Belford.
"He's someone who doesn't care about his children. Furthermore, he values glory and honor more."
Officers from noble families are not deployed to the front lines, battlefields, or dangerous operations. While some may go directly to the battlefield to earn a title through distinguished service, this is typically a path chosen by third- or fourth-generation sons, who are not the eldest or second sons and are thus outside the hereditary line.
It was unusual for a lieutenant colonel, the second son of a direct descendant of the Duke family, to infiltrate an enemy country. The admiral paused in thought.
It is possible that Lieutenant Colonel Jeffrey Groenendaal had the intention of becoming the successor to the Groenendaal family.
Dukes hold various titles, including Marquis and Count. The eldest and second sons of a Duke's family receive the secondary titles of Marquis and Count, respectively. These titles are not hereditary but rather temporary.
If the eldest son of the Groenendaal family becomes a Duke, the second son, Lieutenant Colonel Jeffrey Groenendaal, could become a simple nobleman or a member of the untitled estate, so it's not impossible if he has the ambition. However, if he dies there, this could be held accountable.
"I'll try to stop it somehow. I don't want my daughter to be sad."
The admiral smiled gently, soothing and comforting Celine.
Despite the admiral's efforts, criticism was growing louder within Belford for not actively rescuing Diana, who was being held hostage by the enemy Frogen.
It was by far the hottest issue in the Belford Empire.
"Who will be the hero to save the admiral's daughter?"
"Belford is not even trying to negotiate... They're ignoring the poor girl."
Articles with such provocative titles began to pour in. Some magazines even went so far as to speculate about the possible horrors Diana might face if kidnapped by a mad enemy colonel.
"The colonel who kidnapped me is quite ruthless, even though he's a spy. He must be going through some terrible things right now."
"Why would he be called the Mad Duke? He doesn't even bat an eye when he kills people."
"Poor girl, she was so sick she didn't even appear in society. Sacrifice for the country? Did the Admiral choose fame over his ailing daughter? He's truly unworthy of a father."
People pitied Diana as a girl, not as an admiral's daughter.
In Belford, Noah's image was that of a war-mongering, slaughter-loving, like a colonel from an enemy country.
Parents of daughters trembled at the thought of being captured by such a fearsome man, and girls of the same age wept and prayed for Diana, whose face they had never even known.
It was Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal who created all this public opinion.
To create an excuse to go rescue Diana himself.
Prime Minister Damian Groenendaal, the lieutenant colonel's father, didn't mind his son becoming a hero who saved the girl. He loves honor. When the subject was discussed in parliament, the prime minister made a weighty remark.
“No one should interfere with my son’s choice. As a father, I have given my permission.”
As the Duke of Belford and Prime Minister, his decision was practically unassailable. Most believed the lieutenant colonel was leading the rescue operation to become Belford's hero, but he had a different view.
He had something to protect.
***
“Is this a date?”
“Isn’t it good?”
I was trapped in the suffocating car, dragged by Noah's hand, hurtling toward the city. Vincent, with a look of extreme discomfort, was merely acting as chauffeur, while Noah continued to observe me, his gaze fixed on me with a curious gaze, like a cat gazing at a bird perched on a branch outside the window.
“I thought it would be nice to go on a date because I usually dress up nicely when I go on dates.”
“Yes. I’m so excited. It’s my first date.”
"This is my first time," I replied absentmindedly, resting my chin on my elbows on the windowsill. Noah leaned his face close to mine and whispered in my ear.
“Princess. Is that a thrilling expression?”
Noah's lips brushed against my ear, his breath lingering on my ear. The unexpected contact made me shiver, and I pulled away.
Are you crazy, seriously!
“Ugh... that expression is so crazy and exciting.”
“Your eyes are wide. You get excited and startled.”
He nodded, his lips curled as if he'd made some great discovery. Like someone keeping an observation journal.
“What do you want to do?”
“I’ve never dated here before, so I’m not sure...”
"Vincent, what do you usually do on dates? I don't really know."
How could he not know how to date? This guy is secretly being a bit of a fox.
I coughed and just looked out the window.
“I don’t know because I’ve never dated here.”
Vincent spoke in a firm tone, turning the steering wheel. Noah lifted his upper body and leaned closer to Vincent, who was sitting in the driver's seat.
“You know, that woman’s name was Justice?”
"She married another man a long time ago and has a child. It's been so long since we dated that I'm a bit hazy."
“Remember quickly.”
“Don’t whisper in my ear.”
Arriving at the town square, he parked the car, got out, and Noah, who was escorting me, gestured to Vincent.
“Go home. We’re going on a date.”
“That’s what I tried to do.”
Soldiers disembarked from the military vehicles that followed and followed. Vincent, looking tired, nodded and hurriedly walked away.
Light snowflakes fluttered across the overcast sky. The snow that had already piled up on the streets had been neatly swept to one side. A large canal traversing the square and the city center was visible, flanked by signs for shops, craft shops, furniture stores, tailors, and banks.
On the bridge connecting them, a large crowd of people gathered, gazing at the sky. Some were wrapped in luxurious fur or wool coats, others in layers of worn-out overcoats. Despite the apparent disparity between rich and poor, their attire suggested a shared purpose.
I pulled Noah's sleeve out of curiosity.
“What day is it today?”
"Today marks the 30th anniversary of Emperor Frogen's ascension to the throne, so we're having a fireworks display. We've been celebrating for 30 years."
When the people who had quickly arrived and taken over the prime spot for the fireworks saw Noah, they took off their hats, bowed, and offered him their spot. Their expressions seemed to say, "Why is this person here?"
The noblewomen looked back and forth between me and Noah, their eyes filled with jealousy. Noah looked down at me with concern.
“I don’t think you’ll be able to see it because you're short. Should I give you a ride on my shoulder?”
“No, don’t do that. You’re a high-ranking official in the army, and you’re a Duke.”
What would I be if I climbed on the neck of someone tall?
Here and there, firecrackers exploded with a deafening roar, sending small sparks and ash falling onto the river.
A massive fireworks display unfolded like a blooming flower, sparkling and decorating the pitch-black sky. Thousands of people erupted in cheers of amazement and admiration.
The beautifully etched light in the sky faded, ash scattered, and the characteristic sulfurous smell of firecrackers filled the air.
A boat filled with yellow daffodils, the symbol of the Frogen royal family, floated on the canal, and a woman on board released the daffodils onto the river. Clowns scattered colored paper pieces, and a magician with a wand released doves.
Perhaps my love of fireworks is a universal instinct, but the streets were teeming with people. I dislike crowds, but the fireworks were beautiful. It felt like I was on a trip abroad, and it was a unique experience.
Fortunately, thanks to the influence of a high-ranking official accompanied by a soldier, I was able to enjoy the view from a prime vantage point without being squeezed into the crowd. I gazed up at the fireworks in the sky, my neck aching, then turned my head slightly to look at Noah.
Perhaps because he was tall, he was relaxed and only slightly raised his chin.
Noah, who had been staring blankly at the fireworks, immediately looked down at me, as if he had been focusing all his attention on me.
He asked with a lazy look on his face.
“Have you ever seen fireworks?”
“Yes. What about Noah?”
“I’ve seen it a lot on the battlefield, so I don’t feel anything special.”
Oh my... Even though he's a high-ranking noble, he's been to war often. Understandably, he'd become insensitive to killing people and had a rather peculiar personality. At a loss for words, I patted him on the back.
“It must have been hard on the battlefield. It must have been scary.”
“Are you worried about me?”
Noah's eyes crinkled prettily, and he smiled. Colorful fireworks lit up the sky, creating a spectacular sight.
“It’s spectacular. It’s a breathtaking view...”
I couldn't help but admire the man, who had his back to the sky and created a magnificent view. His silver hair was dyed in various colors, like a rainbow. I quickly averted my gaze, feeling as if my soul was about to be taken away.
As the fireworks ended, the people who had gathered like a swarm of ants began to disperse.
“Where are you going now?”
“Let’s go to my house.”
“Do you have another house?”
Noah tilted his head at my question, as if I was asking something obvious.
“Yes. There are castles, mansions, and villas. There are also some in the capital.”
“Yes, you are rich.”
Of course, he's rich. He's probably got a high salary and inherited some wealth. I just asked because I had nothing else to say.
He looked slightly satisfied with the words I threw out.
“Enough to feed the Princess.”
He keeps making work comments that I can't tell if he's serious or joking.
Have you tried flirting with many women? I don't think you'll get them without trying. Anyway, since I'm in love with them, I responded as best I could.
My goal is to endure while adjusting appropriately.
“Wow~ I’ll have to spend all that money when I get married.”
His voice was listless, but Noah's eyes widened at the word "marriage." Why did he react so seriously when I said such things to him, when he could say them so casually?
“Diana, do you really want to marry me?”
"Yes. If my husband were rich, I wouldn't mind. I can eat meat every day. I'm a materialistic person to the core, after all."
I gave him a playful chuckle, as if to suggest I was just joking. Noah's face was relaxed and unhurried, like a contented beast. It was like a tiger's expression, like a cat slumped in the sunlight.
“I see. I will become the Princess’s husband.”
“Haha, just kidding...”
"Are you kidding? Let's go to the archbishop tomorrow and make our wedding vows."
His final words that followed sounded distant and far away.
“A proposal after fireworks? My Princess is such a romantic.”
It's crazy?
I underestimated him again, overlooking many things. That this madman never let my words slip. That he was happy to drive me into a corner and watch.
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