Chapter 9: Eswar Kartazen
“What’s going on?”
"No, I misstepped."
"I feel like my legs are giving out from the grandeur of the palace, Your Highness. Hahaha!"
Hostang, who had leaped from the stable, laughed heartily and unnecessarily. His face looked happy, having finally caught a fight after so long. Rosentine shrugged.
She decided to embrace that sense of triumph for now. Shartus and Lucien disembarked before her, who wasted time by fumbling around. Rosentine glanced outside. Fortunately, Arzen's carriage was empty.
'Arzen? Father?'
There was one thing she forgotten. For a moment, Rosentine felt a pang of hiccup when she realized that, as a Princess, there must be many people in the palace who knew her.
Of course, she disguised herself, but Rosentine realized there was one person she had to be wary of: her father.
Since Heimt was a man of considerable observation, she was confident that she could completely fool most people who were not Heimt.
Rosentine now wasn't the same personality they'd known before. Her facial expressions also changed depending on her personality. Those who had been in charge of Rosentine had probably never seen her smile so shamelessly as she did now.
But if it were her father, it might be a little dangerous. He was a famous strategist in Ciartazen.
“You’re late."
"Ah, haha, I have a cramp in my foot."
'What’s going on?'
She pretended to rub her legs in her chair, lost in thought. In fact, it wasn't surprising that Heimt Arzen would show up at the Crown Prince's palace.
She pretended to rub her legs in her chair, lost in thought. In fact, it wasn't surprising that Haimt Arzen would show up at the Crown Prince's palace.
He loved the empire and supported the Crown Prince chosen by his close friend, the Emperor, as the heir to the throne, so this dispute over the succession to the throne would not have been a concern for Heimt.
Arzen's name could not be shaken by a single situation like this.
'Come to think of it, I think I've heard it before. Something about the Crown Prince.'
She thinks it was someone saying that she resembled her father like a snake. When Rosentine heard that, she shrugged at the way they called her.
She could just smile because she was Korean by birth, but Violetta's face often turned pale.
"Do you need help?"
When Rosentine didn't come out, Shartus poked his head into the carriage. Rosentine flinched at the inhuman face that suddenly barged into her deep thoughts.
His silver hair sometimes seemed to sparkle even in rooms where direct light wasn't present. A fleeting thought crossed Rosentine's mind, "This guy should be banned from doing this." She waved her hand.
"No, I'm going. I'm okay now."
Rosentine pulled her darkened hair forward, trying to hide her face with it.
Even though she had to hide everything, she felt excited for some reason.
It's been a while since Rosentine saw her father, and she's starting to feel like she's playing hide-and-seek with him. Rosentine grinned.
***
Decorating a home varies from person to person. The Crown Prince's palace, unlike the quiet yet somewhat wild-like Shartus's palace, was decorated in bright colors. The interior exuded a soft elegance. Rosentine gave a small exclamation.
"It's a place where I feel at ease, ironically."
Lucien smiled faintly, as if he understood her feelings.
"His Royal Highness is exactly like this. But he is clearly the Crown Prince and the next Emperor."
It was a warning not to let your guard down. Rosentine nodded and looked around.
The furniture, lined with ivory as the centerpiece, was all of a high-quality variety. It was a given, but the drawing room was decorated with a refined, elegant gold, rather than a flashy one. It was a skill she wanted to learn from.
"Please wait a moment as we have guests."
At the words of the chamberlain, Shartus nodded silently. His face was no different from usual, but the fact that it was his usual face that caught Rosentine's attention.
It certainly wasn't the face expect to see from his brother. It was a surprising sight, considering he'd worked so hard for his brother.
The man in the valet's uniform had neatly swept back gray hair. Rosentine let his words slip away and lifted the teacup he had placed before her.
If things were normal, she wouldn't have been treated like this in her current position as a maid, but now she was with the Second Prince.
She liked the sweet and bitter taste of the tea. But the moment she raised her head, she had to hastily lower her face.
Heimt Arzen was coming down. It seemed he was the Crown Prince's guest. The knight accompanying him was coming down with a measured stride. He, too, was a knight from a family Rosentine knew well.
She briefly considered running away, but quickly decided it was foolish. He wouldn't pay much attention to a mere maid.
Rosentine glanced up and saw Heimt. He was talking to the chamberlain.
"I'll visit again soon."
"I will deliver the letter to His Royal Highness."
"You must have heard that I've been working hard all along, but these days I'm just waiting for letters from the villa."
"Is this a letter from your daughter?"
It was a small talk, but it was about her. Rosentine pricked up his ears. Heimt's stern, stern demeanor softened as her story began.
He scratched the back of his head, a sight that belied his image as a cool-headed high-ranking official. Her father looked immensely pleased—perhaps even a little too pleased.
"This isn't my daughter. It's a letter from the head of the household who has looked after my daughter since she was little."
"Your daughter's story must be in there. I can tell just by looking at your face."
"Haha, this girl is all grown up, and she goes around playing and doesn't even show her face, but Klast said, Oh, Klast is our attendant. She makes up stuff to give me and talks about me all day long and prays."
'When am I?'
Rosentine covered her mouth to hide the laughter that threatened to burst out. A small, hollow cough followed suit.
Klast had some kind of contract with her.
At the villa she had been to since she was a child, the attendant who had taken care of her for a long time was the caretaker
It was a place Heimt had sent for the old man who was about to retire. He felt the warm sea breeze and enjoyed his old age. She's sure he's enjoying it to the fullest.
She's not sure if her stomach will hurt a bit.
It was thanks to Klast's help that Rosentine was able to hide in the palace without worrying about Heimt.
Instead of sending a greeting letter, of greeting Klast writes to Heimt as if Rosentine were in the villa every day.
This was her secret with her old friend, the old attendant, Klast. He didn't have a bit of a slur, but he was always willing to listen to Rosentine's requests.
"[I'm glad to hear that your imagination is growing, Klast. Think well. Maybe this is an opportunity to write a novel and make a difference, right? Even if I'm not there anyway, it's good for the eyes to see what I'm going to do. I can clearly see Klast blushing and shouting at me for writing those words. Hmm, I guess it's okay if I'm not there...]
Rosentine remembered the letter she had sent him the other day, and she giggled with pleasure. Even if she didn't look at it, she could hear a voice in her ear, 'Miss!'
She couldn't help but nod her head.
She can't even begin to describe how much effort she put into getting a letter to him. She passed through so many hands and names that she would never be discovered as Rosentine Arzen.
Apparently, her secret partner was not only a writer with remarkable talent, but also met the needs of his clients.
She could easily imagine Klast biting the tip of the quill and thinking of the Duke.
If Violetta's hair was a brilliant blonde that was close to white, Heimt's hair was a strawberry blonde with a stronger red color. Yes, just like hers.
The man of dance, who once made the women of the social world cry one after another, retained his age even as he grew older. Serious eyes and a straight and strong posture.
But how should we view such a man's mouth breaking open when talking about his grown daughter?
'It's embarrassing to see you like this in front of me, Father.'
Rosentine had to work hard to hide the corners of her mouth that were twitching involuntarily.
As the chamberlain nodded to the benevolent face, Heimt opened his mouth a little more, as if his mood had brightened.
"I sent her down to a faraway place because she said she really wanted to rest and look at the sea, but judging by the way she's talking, it seems like she's doing well, so I'm relieved. This is especially true since she's not usually interested in socializing."
"She is Violetta's daughter, so I'm sure she'll take care of it."
"Haha! Right? Because she's his daughter, you know. Corte pouted, missing his sister. Their friendship is also great.”
Heimt, in a good mood, lightly patted the chamberlain on the shoulder. He looked as happy as he had been when he had dinner with Violetta and her two daughters at the mansion.
Seeing this family in someone else's eyes, Rosentine felt a strange flush of joy. It was like looking at a diary filled with affection.
Her stomach squirms with a ticklish itch. If only Shartus and his companions hadn't been there, she would have blushed to her heart's content. She thought so until she heard the next words.
"She said she would stay by my side without getting married."
“Is it that much?”
"Haha! I guess she just hasn't met anyone like this father yet."
'...Is this revenge?'
Rosentine, who almost coughed for a moment, quickly lowered her head. It seemed the letter contained not only the client's needs but also resentment toward the client.
It was clear to see Klast finish writing the letter and smile wickedly and contentedly.
'Clast!'
Rosentine screamed inwardly.
Heimt's mood seemed to be reaching its peak at this point. He couldn't even speak, and his mouth was trembling.
No, she's not even five or six years old, and she's grown up enough to say something like that. Rosentine rubbed her forehead with her palm and shook her head.
It wasn't a bad feeling because Heimt seemed to be infinitely happy, but she still thought that she should give him a hard time when she got back.
[You can come and cause trouble. Please show me your face.]
Klast's last letter contained such a sentence. He must have missed her as much as his old friend, so she resolved to go and get back as soon as possible.
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