The Prime Minister of Belford sat before his son, Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal, a look of intense anger on his face. He sat at his desk, his hands clasped under his chin, his sharp blue eyes scanning his son.
The lieutenant colonel stood upright in his military coat, facing his father.
"Are you really saying it wasn't your doing? I heard they saw a man with black hair and wearing an officer's uniform."
"She was going to be released anyway. Escaping would be tantamount to admitting guilt, so there's no reason to act like that when the situation is even more disadvantageous."
The lieutenant colonel's words are not wrong. Since the necklace in question was already attested to as belonging to the Duchess, and the witnesses who testified that Diana entered the admiral's room disappeared, there was no more evidence, and she should have been released.
“Is it possible that Medea helped take her away?”
"Yes. Colonel Frogen likely took her to Medea. He disobeyed the imperial order and even deserted."
Duke Groenendael relaxed in his chair, his hands clasped together, and his chin raised.
"Yes, Jeffrey. Your efforts were in vain, and she escaped. You're the only one in trouble. Why did you risk all that to help a woman named Diana?"
“As I said then, it was for my mother.”
“You have many secrets, just like your mother.”
He must have dealt with the witnesses who testified. Duke Groenendaal sighed inwardly, certain of his actions. He hadn't intended to question him about aiding in the escape. He needed to know who Diana Clare was.
Why did the Duke and Colonel of Frogen defy the imperial order and take Medea to him, and why did his son, Jeffrey, go to such lengths to save her, even risking losses and disadvantages?
It was clear she was related to the Duchess. He reflected on the promise he had made to his late wife, which he had not sought to reveal. Perhaps her identity was directly connected to his wife's death.
The lieutenant colonel stood upright without answering, looking down at his boots. He was reminded once again that his judgment was wrong.
He thought anyone would be fine as long as they protected and protected her. But what she truly desired was just Noah Rotsilt, that man.
I thought it didn't matter if Noah's emotions and empathy were lacking compared to others.
In an era where nations are fiercely fighting wars and competing for land, having outstanding empathy or sympathy will only lead to a shortened life and suffering.
With that kind of personality, he could have survived on the front lines as an excellent field officer. In fact, since this man is more active and expressive than me, isn't it more of a problem for me?
Why and what it meant to him to like me? Now, it doesn't matter to me.
He was like a sudden downpour. Just because you get drenched in a downpour that wasn't in the forecast doesn't mean you spend a lot of time worrying about why it rained.
We finished dinner in a restaurant that was only open to certain passengers and went back up to the deck.
The aurora and scattered stars spread out like silk curtains across the black sky, creating a spectacular sight. The fluorescent aurora was beautiful, but as night fell, the temperature plummeted, and the bitter sea breeze felt like it was cutting my skin.
My shoulders hunched as the wind whistled sharply past my ears. The onlookers were drinking strong vodka or whiskey to stave off the cold.
I tugged at Noah's sleeve, shivering in the cold like a country dog.
“It’s so cold I can’t stay.”
“Yes, let’s go in. You must be really cold.”
“Aren’t you a little bit cold?”
“That’s right. I’ve slept outside a lot in the middle of winter.”
Are you talking about cold-weather training? I came into the special room, wrapped myself in a wool blanket, and sat on the sofa to stave off the cold, while Noah lit the stove.
He poured me a mug of warm tea and handed it to me. We sat side by side on the sofa in front of the fireplace.
“Are you still cold?”
"Yes."
Noah lifted the blanket and crawled inside, then pressed his body against mine.
“I think I’m cold, too.”
“Suddenly?”
Noah wrapped his arm around my shoulder, leaning me against him, and nodded. My body was enveloped in his warm, broad embrace. My hand, gripping the warm mug, tightened.
“Yeah. Suddenly.”
He seemed secretly charming. I could almost see his nine wagging tails. To avoid being caught with my blushing face, I lowered my gaze and looked at his toes.
For some time now, I've been feeling strangely drawn to the fact that he smells like soap to me. The faint scent of sandalwood soap wafting from the back of my neck, blending into my body odor, was dizzying.
I glanced up at Noah, who was looking straight down at me. Beneath his jet-black hair, his mysterious blue eyes were a warm hue.
As soon as the overly handsome man makes eye contact with me, he gives me his signature smug smile.
“Shall we go to sleep now?”
"Is it so."
The end of my answering voice was subtly off, but I tried to pretend like nothing happened and got up.
I took a shower and dried my hair in front of the fireplace. By the time I was done drying, Noah was coming out of the bathroom, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.
“Noah. Are you supposed to keep your hair black?”
"No. I dyed my hair a unique color, so I only dyed it when I was running away, in case I got caught. It'll fade quickly, so do you like it better this way?"
“They are both pretty.”
My personal preference is for his natural, frost-colored hair. But black hair is also stylish and alluring. He pulled a thick blanket over me as I lay in bed, then lay down next to me, placing his hand on the blanket and beginning to pat me.
"Good night."
“Why do you always watch me sleep before you sleep?”
“I think it’s a habit.”
Perhaps the fatigue from the trip had set in, and I felt myself sinking into the fluffy bed sheets. As I sighed, feeling exhausted, he asked in a soft voice.
“Should I give you another arm pillow?”
The last breath I let out in that languid, tired voice caught in my throat.
The sun hasn't risen yet. I'm in a predicament, unable to breathe deeply or move even once.
When I opened my eyes slightly in the dead of night, my face was buried in the hollow beneath Noah's collarbone. I'd clearly called it a pillow, but now he was hugging me, my head resting between his shoulder and chest.
I tried to gently pull away, but my body was trapped tightly in his arms, making it impossible. At this rate, my heartbeat, pulsating at will, began to knock against his body.
But when I finally raised my head and looked closely at Noah's sleeping face, there was one thing I found particularly striking: a straight jaw, a delicately shaped nose, upturned lips, downturned eyes, and long eyelashes.
The shadows cast on his face beneath his high nose look sweet. The number of bandages on his smooth face has decreased slightly.
I carefully observed his beautiful features, then gently stroked Noah's cheek with my finger. He was a former soldier, so why did his skin feel like a baby's?
His plump, pretty lips were slightly parted, as if tempting. They looked like a forbidden fruit, so tempting that I couldn't resist the thirst.
I think I'm crazy.
I brought my lips to it as if possessed, then flinched at my own impulsive action and hastily tried to pull away.
But Noah's strong arms tightened, holding me tighter, preventing me from escaping. He closed his mouth and let out a snort.
This man... wasn’t sleeping!
“Have you been secretly kissing me every time I sleep?”
He asked with a whisper, a laugh mixed in. His low, nasal laugh was deadly.
“No! Is this my first time?”
In embarrassment, I blurted out a strange politeness.
“You don’t have to do it secretly. You’re being cheeky.”
“...I will ask for permission from now on.”
“Then please do it now.”
His lips curved leisurely. The sleepy, sleepy look in his eyes, just awake, was incredibly seductive. "You want me to go first?" I couldn't resist. I'm a worn-out adult.
Despite this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, perhaps due to the psychological pressure, my body wouldn't move. Noah, who had been patiently waiting for me, froze like a statue, smiled faintly.
He cupped my face with his hand and looked me in the eye.
“Your face feels hot. Do you have a fever?”
He spoke calmly, then gave me his arm and let me lie down comfortably, then let out a tired sigh.
“Sleep more. You must be tired.”
I sighed inwardly in admiration.
Wow... this guy is truly a master. His control of tempo is a work of art. If I go to Medea, I'll probably want to avoid sleeping with him.
It's like he's waiting for me to make the first move, like he's setting bait. After he gets what he wants, he'll smile wickedly and speak in a sensual voice.
'The Princess is really proactive. She's cute.'
I'll never kiss you first. You're such a pitiful man. A strange competitive drive arose.
I fell into a brief, light sleep and woke up with even more fatigue on my back. It was still early, 6 a.m., and outside the cabin window, the thick fog was clearing, revealing the rippling currents and tiny islands.
The sun was slowly rising, a golden glow beginning to tinge the deep blue horizon. It seemed we were almost in Medea. I think it was called the land of the eternal sun. The sunrise looked incredibly magnificent.
Noah was already up and ready. He straightened my messy hair and told me we had arrived safely at our destination.
“Did you enjoy your trip?”
Yes, yes.
I can't express it in words other than that. It was fun, but it was also painful, like sleeping with the enemy inside me.
Noah put a cup of warm tea in my hand, sat down on the sofa, and opened the newspaper.
"Hurry up and wash up and get ready. We'll have breakfast in the Medea capital. I've also found a mansion for us to stay in."
I nodded, drank my morning tea, and headed to the bathroom. It was surprisingly easy to get there. He was a brilliant officer with exceptional strategic and tactical prowess, so he must have planned a retreat route and escape plan well.
As we disembarked from the ferry and waited for our vehicles to be loaded onto the dock, Baroness Zelda Mason, whom I'd met yesterday, approached us. She wore a pale yellow silk dress and a white fur muffler and smiled brightly at us.
“Go to Chevenant Manor and rest today, and come to Tempshire Palace tomorrow. The Queen wishes to see you.”
“Yeah. Tell them I’m going alone.”
At Noah's answer, Baroness Mason's pretty face tilted in question.
“Her Majesty would like to meet Princess Diana, too?”
“Next time. Diana has a bit of a fever.”
I don't have a fever, but I'm not that oblivious. I looked at her with a bashful expression, her expression fading, and she smiled faintly.
“I will convey that. Our Queen is generous.”
Baroness Mason greeted me with a smile, then turned and disappeared.
We left the port city by car and headed to the capital, where the Chevenant Mansion was located.
The United Kingdom of Medea, comprised of the Kingdom of Medea, Magnolia, Estria, and Tristana, boasts the world's largest colonies and maritime power, and is also known as a vast colonial empire with numerous colonies. However, the Bethlin family, which produced numerous royal houses including the Spencer Dynasty, did not recognize her legitimacy, so the Queen only served as the Empress of the Cynthia Empire and was never given the official title of Empress.
Queen Grace II, who rules over the entire United Kingdom, was loved, loyal, and respected by the people of Medea.
It seemed a different form of totalitarianism and fascism, which enforces blind loyalty and sacrifice to the nation through violence and fear, and enforces the collective rather than the individual. Historically, they have committed widespread genocide, and given the current situation, such a thing could happen in this world as well.
As we chatted and reflected on various matters, we arrived at the Chevenant Mansion, where we would be staying. This mansion, located in the capital, was as magnificent as Noah's original mansions.
It's said to have been occupied by the nobles of Medea's prestigious family, but it appears to have been empty for a long time. The garden's natural fall foliage covered the path, rustling with every step.
As we entered the mansion, Molly, who had arrived earlier, greeted us with a still expressionless face. She had one arm wrapped in a bandage.
“Molly? What’s wrong with your arm?”
She looked Noah up and down with cold eyes, not giving me an answer to my question.
“I shot it.”
Noah answered as if it was nothing.
“Huh? What did you say?”
"Otherwise, Molly will be captured and tortured. That would be even more painful."
Molly sighed with a look of weariness on her face and led us to the tidy room. Fortunately, Noah and I had separate rooms, but it was useless.
At night, he would come to me quite naturally, lie down on my bed, and pat the sheets as if telling me to come to him.
The lieutenant colonel stood upright in his military coat, facing his father.
"Are you really saying it wasn't your doing? I heard they saw a man with black hair and wearing an officer's uniform."
"She was going to be released anyway. Escaping would be tantamount to admitting guilt, so there's no reason to act like that when the situation is even more disadvantageous."
The lieutenant colonel's words are not wrong. Since the necklace in question was already attested to as belonging to the Duchess, and the witnesses who testified that Diana entered the admiral's room disappeared, there was no more evidence, and she should have been released.
“Is it possible that Medea helped take her away?”
"Yes. Colonel Frogen likely took her to Medea. He disobeyed the imperial order and even deserted."
Duke Groenendael relaxed in his chair, his hands clasped together, and his chin raised.
"Yes, Jeffrey. Your efforts were in vain, and she escaped. You're the only one in trouble. Why did you risk all that to help a woman named Diana?"
“As I said then, it was for my mother.”
“You have many secrets, just like your mother.”
He must have dealt with the witnesses who testified. Duke Groenendaal sighed inwardly, certain of his actions. He hadn't intended to question him about aiding in the escape. He needed to know who Diana Clare was.
Why did the Duke and Colonel of Frogen defy the imperial order and take Medea to him, and why did his son, Jeffrey, go to such lengths to save her, even risking losses and disadvantages?
It was clear she was related to the Duchess. He reflected on the promise he had made to his late wife, which he had not sought to reveal. Perhaps her identity was directly connected to his wife's death.
The lieutenant colonel stood upright without answering, looking down at his boots. He was reminded once again that his judgment was wrong.
He thought anyone would be fine as long as they protected and protected her. But what she truly desired was just Noah Rotsilt, that man.
***
I thought it didn't matter if Noah's emotions and empathy were lacking compared to others.
In an era where nations are fiercely fighting wars and competing for land, having outstanding empathy or sympathy will only lead to a shortened life and suffering.
With that kind of personality, he could have survived on the front lines as an excellent field officer. In fact, since this man is more active and expressive than me, isn't it more of a problem for me?
Why and what it meant to him to like me? Now, it doesn't matter to me.
He was like a sudden downpour. Just because you get drenched in a downpour that wasn't in the forecast doesn't mean you spend a lot of time worrying about why it rained.
We finished dinner in a restaurant that was only open to certain passengers and went back up to the deck.
The aurora and scattered stars spread out like silk curtains across the black sky, creating a spectacular sight. The fluorescent aurora was beautiful, but as night fell, the temperature plummeted, and the bitter sea breeze felt like it was cutting my skin.
My shoulders hunched as the wind whistled sharply past my ears. The onlookers were drinking strong vodka or whiskey to stave off the cold.
I tugged at Noah's sleeve, shivering in the cold like a country dog.
“It’s so cold I can’t stay.”
“Yes, let’s go in. You must be really cold.”
“Aren’t you a little bit cold?”
“That’s right. I’ve slept outside a lot in the middle of winter.”
Are you talking about cold-weather training? I came into the special room, wrapped myself in a wool blanket, and sat on the sofa to stave off the cold, while Noah lit the stove.
He poured me a mug of warm tea and handed it to me. We sat side by side on the sofa in front of the fireplace.
“Are you still cold?”
"Yes."
Noah lifted the blanket and crawled inside, then pressed his body against mine.
“I think I’m cold, too.”
“Suddenly?”
Noah wrapped his arm around my shoulder, leaning me against him, and nodded. My body was enveloped in his warm, broad embrace. My hand, gripping the warm mug, tightened.
“Yeah. Suddenly.”
He seemed secretly charming. I could almost see his nine wagging tails. To avoid being caught with my blushing face, I lowered my gaze and looked at his toes.
For some time now, I've been feeling strangely drawn to the fact that he smells like soap to me. The faint scent of sandalwood soap wafting from the back of my neck, blending into my body odor, was dizzying.
I glanced up at Noah, who was looking straight down at me. Beneath his jet-black hair, his mysterious blue eyes were a warm hue.
As soon as the overly handsome man makes eye contact with me, he gives me his signature smug smile.
“Shall we go to sleep now?”
"Is it so."
The end of my answering voice was subtly off, but I tried to pretend like nothing happened and got up.
I took a shower and dried my hair in front of the fireplace. By the time I was done drying, Noah was coming out of the bathroom, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.
“Noah. Are you supposed to keep your hair black?”
"No. I dyed my hair a unique color, so I only dyed it when I was running away, in case I got caught. It'll fade quickly, so do you like it better this way?"
“They are both pretty.”
My personal preference is for his natural, frost-colored hair. But black hair is also stylish and alluring. He pulled a thick blanket over me as I lay in bed, then lay down next to me, placing his hand on the blanket and beginning to pat me.
"Good night."
“Why do you always watch me sleep before you sleep?”
“I think it’s a habit.”
Perhaps the fatigue from the trip had set in, and I felt myself sinking into the fluffy bed sheets. As I sighed, feeling exhausted, he asked in a soft voice.
“Should I give you another arm pillow?”
The last breath I let out in that languid, tired voice caught in my throat.
***
The sun hasn't risen yet. I'm in a predicament, unable to breathe deeply or move even once.
When I opened my eyes slightly in the dead of night, my face was buried in the hollow beneath Noah's collarbone. I'd clearly called it a pillow, but now he was hugging me, my head resting between his shoulder and chest.
I tried to gently pull away, but my body was trapped tightly in his arms, making it impossible. At this rate, my heartbeat, pulsating at will, began to knock against his body.
But when I finally raised my head and looked closely at Noah's sleeping face, there was one thing I found particularly striking: a straight jaw, a delicately shaped nose, upturned lips, downturned eyes, and long eyelashes.
The shadows cast on his face beneath his high nose look sweet. The number of bandages on his smooth face has decreased slightly.
I carefully observed his beautiful features, then gently stroked Noah's cheek with my finger. He was a former soldier, so why did his skin feel like a baby's?
His plump, pretty lips were slightly parted, as if tempting. They looked like a forbidden fruit, so tempting that I couldn't resist the thirst.
I think I'm crazy.
I brought my lips to it as if possessed, then flinched at my own impulsive action and hastily tried to pull away.
But Noah's strong arms tightened, holding me tighter, preventing me from escaping. He closed his mouth and let out a snort.
This man... wasn’t sleeping!
“Have you been secretly kissing me every time I sleep?”
He asked with a whisper, a laugh mixed in. His low, nasal laugh was deadly.
“No! Is this my first time?”
In embarrassment, I blurted out a strange politeness.
“You don’t have to do it secretly. You’re being cheeky.”
“...I will ask for permission from now on.”
“Then please do it now.”
His lips curved leisurely. The sleepy, sleepy look in his eyes, just awake, was incredibly seductive. "You want me to go first?" I couldn't resist. I'm a worn-out adult.
Despite this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, perhaps due to the psychological pressure, my body wouldn't move. Noah, who had been patiently waiting for me, froze like a statue, smiled faintly.
He cupped my face with his hand and looked me in the eye.
“Your face feels hot. Do you have a fever?”
He spoke calmly, then gave me his arm and let me lie down comfortably, then let out a tired sigh.
“Sleep more. You must be tired.”
I sighed inwardly in admiration.
Wow... this guy is truly a master. His control of tempo is a work of art. If I go to Medea, I'll probably want to avoid sleeping with him.
It's like he's waiting for me to make the first move, like he's setting bait. After he gets what he wants, he'll smile wickedly and speak in a sensual voice.
'The Princess is really proactive. She's cute.'
I'll never kiss you first. You're such a pitiful man. A strange competitive drive arose.
I fell into a brief, light sleep and woke up with even more fatigue on my back. It was still early, 6 a.m., and outside the cabin window, the thick fog was clearing, revealing the rippling currents and tiny islands.
The sun was slowly rising, a golden glow beginning to tinge the deep blue horizon. It seemed we were almost in Medea. I think it was called the land of the eternal sun. The sunrise looked incredibly magnificent.
Noah was already up and ready. He straightened my messy hair and told me we had arrived safely at our destination.
“Did you enjoy your trip?”
Yes, yes.
I can't express it in words other than that. It was fun, but it was also painful, like sleeping with the enemy inside me.
Noah put a cup of warm tea in my hand, sat down on the sofa, and opened the newspaper.
"Hurry up and wash up and get ready. We'll have breakfast in the Medea capital. I've also found a mansion for us to stay in."
I nodded, drank my morning tea, and headed to the bathroom. It was surprisingly easy to get there. He was a brilliant officer with exceptional strategic and tactical prowess, so he must have planned a retreat route and escape plan well.
As we disembarked from the ferry and waited for our vehicles to be loaded onto the dock, Baroness Zelda Mason, whom I'd met yesterday, approached us. She wore a pale yellow silk dress and a white fur muffler and smiled brightly at us.
“Go to Chevenant Manor and rest today, and come to Tempshire Palace tomorrow. The Queen wishes to see you.”
“Yeah. Tell them I’m going alone.”
At Noah's answer, Baroness Mason's pretty face tilted in question.
“Her Majesty would like to meet Princess Diana, too?”
“Next time. Diana has a bit of a fever.”
I don't have a fever, but I'm not that oblivious. I looked at her with a bashful expression, her expression fading, and she smiled faintly.
“I will convey that. Our Queen is generous.”
Baroness Mason greeted me with a smile, then turned and disappeared.
We left the port city by car and headed to the capital, where the Chevenant Mansion was located.
The United Kingdom of Medea, comprised of the Kingdom of Medea, Magnolia, Estria, and Tristana, boasts the world's largest colonies and maritime power, and is also known as a vast colonial empire with numerous colonies. However, the Bethlin family, which produced numerous royal houses including the Spencer Dynasty, did not recognize her legitimacy, so the Queen only served as the Empress of the Cynthia Empire and was never given the official title of Empress.
Queen Grace II, who rules over the entire United Kingdom, was loved, loyal, and respected by the people of Medea.
It seemed a different form of totalitarianism and fascism, which enforces blind loyalty and sacrifice to the nation through violence and fear, and enforces the collective rather than the individual. Historically, they have committed widespread genocide, and given the current situation, such a thing could happen in this world as well.
As we chatted and reflected on various matters, we arrived at the Chevenant Mansion, where we would be staying. This mansion, located in the capital, was as magnificent as Noah's original mansions.
It's said to have been occupied by the nobles of Medea's prestigious family, but it appears to have been empty for a long time. The garden's natural fall foliage covered the path, rustling with every step.
As we entered the mansion, Molly, who had arrived earlier, greeted us with a still expressionless face. She had one arm wrapped in a bandage.
“Molly? What’s wrong with your arm?”
She looked Noah up and down with cold eyes, not giving me an answer to my question.
“I shot it.”
Noah answered as if it was nothing.
“Huh? What did you say?”
"Otherwise, Molly will be captured and tortured. That would be even more painful."
Molly sighed with a look of weariness on her face and led us to the tidy room. Fortunately, Noah and I had separate rooms, but it was useless.
At night, he would come to me quite naturally, lie down on my bed, and pat the sheets as if telling me to come to him.
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