Episode 146. Isabelle Hands Over the Flashlight
"Your Majesty, the Queen."
As the Queen turned her head at someone's call, Olivia turned around with her. Several noble ladies were standing there, including Mrs. Lehmann, Lucy's nanny.
"Oh, everyone's here."
Beatrix gently took Olivia's arm.
“Olivia, these are noble ladies I am close with. Let me introduce them.”
Then, a petite lady wearing a red shawl approached Olivia and urged the Queen in a gentle voice.
“Your Majesty, the Queen, please introduce me to Her Royal Highness. I will go first. I have been waiting for this moment since her congratulatory speech for the founding of the Royal School.”
"Oh, dear. I need to go first, Your Majesty, as I have some admissions counseling to attend. I absolutely must learn about admission to Harrington College today. It is very urgent."
Beatrix let out an exaggerated sigh and said as if it couldn't be helped.
"I’ll introduce you in order of age. Starting with the oldest."
"Oh, my God. How cruel."
Loud laughter erupted, and Olivia ended up laughing along as well.
Time passed quickly.
For the first time in days, Olivia laughed sincerely and engaged in meaningful conversations with people. She momentarily forgot Noah, who had been occupying a corner of her mind, and forgot the magic dome that had stirred Herod, and thus, she even forgot time itself.
Someone approached and spoke to Olivia, who was unaware that the sun hanging overhead was sliding westward and slowly setting.
"It's been a long time, Your Highness."
Mrs. Lehman's expression stiffened slightly as she spoke with Olivia.
When Olivia turned her head toward the person who had called her, standing there was someone with gorgeous red hair that looked as if it had been made by melting the sunset.
How could she ever forget this red hair?
Olivia smiled and greeted them.
“It’s been a long time, Lady Seymour. How have you been?”
Queen Beatrix, who had been watching from a distance, slammed her wine glass down, revealing her displeasure. The lady standing nervously beside her bowed her head respectfully.
“Marchioness Coleman, I wonder why you went out of your way to bring Seymour’s daughter here.”
Mrs. Coleman wore a desperate expression at the Queen's blunt remark.
“Isabelle is scheduled to marry my son Jackson soon, Your Majesty. I ask that you regard her as Coleman’s woman, not Seymour’s daughter. Isabelle will apologize to Her Highness the Princess today on behalf of her mother for her rudeness.”
The Marchioness Coleman turned her head to look at Isabelle. The light in her deep reddish-brown eyes was as hard as mahogany wood and felt stern.
The Marchioness soon turned her head toward the Queen and spoke loyally, like a knight.
"Coleman exists for Astrid's glory."
“...”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty, for deciding to accept Seymour’s daughter, who dared to challenge Astrid’s glory, as a member of the family.”
Just then, Olivia stood up from her seat. She then headed to the deserted terrace with Isabelle. Mrs. Lehmann, who was with Olivia, gave them a hurried look.
Beatrix, who had been agonizing over the decision, picked up her wine glass again and spoke.
“I’ll believe you. Coleman has always been loyal.”
Marchioness Coleman nodded as if to ask to be believed, then muttered in a weary voice.
"I've found that there are no parents who can win against their children."
“...”
"It was impossible to win."
Marquis and Marchiness Coleman objected, but Jackson Coleman insisted that it had to be Isabelle. There was no way to win.
The sincerity mixed in the Marchioness's deep sigh was conveyed to the Queen as well.
Beatrix looked up at the terrace where Olivia and Isabelle had disappeared. What could they be talking about?
The fence of the family and parents was so solid.
Isabelle realized it only after the fence was gone.
"I didn't want to take you in as a daughter-in-law."
It felt as if her skin was being cut by the fierce gaze of Mrs. Coleman, who once held her hand tightly and showered her mother with praise.
“The Marquis of Coleman is supposed to maintain friendly relations with the Royal Family. But didn't Mrs. Seymour treat the Princess with disrespect? I didn't want to go out of my way to bring you in as a daughter-in-law and cause trouble.”
“But why...”
"It's because of Jackson."
Her dark brown eyes were so cold that it felt as if a shiver was washing over her. The Marchioness stared intently at her face.
“There is a charity party hosted by Her Majesty the Queen today. I hear that Her Highness the Princess is attending as well. Come with me now. Go and apologize to Her Highness the Princess for your mother’s rudeness.”
"But...!"
“Why? What more do you need to apologize for regarding that?”
Marchioness Coleman chuckled and picked up her teacup.
“If you don’t want to, please call off this marriage.”
"... Yes?"
“I have no desire to bring into the household someone who would be a liability rather than a benefit. The Marquis shares this sentiment. If you wish to become a member of the Coleman family, follow our family traditions. A Princess is a Princess. The Royal Family is the Royal Family.”
“...”
“What are you going to do, Isabelle?”
At Mrs. Coleman's bitter question, Isabelle eventually came to this place.
She could not leave the capital with her family. She did not know where the compulsion that she had to die within the capital, if anything, originated, but she desperately wanted to stay.
As the terrace door closed, the Princess turned to look at her.
"Do you have something to say to me?"
The Princess, with her back to the faint light, was incredibly beautiful. Isabelle was unbearably envious of her for possessing both the tiara she had been unable to give up and Noah Astrid.
“She is a person who does not need your approval. A Princess is a Princess. Just keep that in mind.”
Recalling the voice of the Marchioness Coleman, Isabelle clenched her teeth tightly. Then she bowed her head respectfully.
“I apologize on behalf of my mother for her rudeness, Your Highness. Please forgive her.”
Overwhelmed by a flood of shame, she felt as if tears were about to burst forth. As her eyes grew hot, Isabelle pressed them shut tightly.
How ridiculous must I seem to you like this?
A fleeting moment felt as long as an eternity, when an indifferent voice settled over her head.
"There is nothing for me to forgive, nor is there anything for you to ask me to forgive."
The voice, devoid of even a shred of joy or mockery, felt alien.
Isabelle opened her eyes wide. When she looked up, the Princess was staring at her with a face as emotionless as her voice.
“What is that...”
"Just be polite to me from now on. I will be polite to you, too."
"Are you accepting my apology?"
"Is it important whether I receive it or not?"
"It's important."
“Then I’ll just say I received it. If anyone asks me that, I’ll answer that I did.”
Isabelle was growing increasingly irritated. Her heart was surging violently like a stormy sea, yet the Princess was so detached.
Even though she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't take her gaze off the Princess as if she were glaring.
"If you have nothing more to say, I’ll be going now."
The Princess straightened her back elegantly and brushed past her.
Isabelle's lower lip trembled.
'Isn't it ridiculous that I'm floundering in the abyss like this?'
Isabelle turned toward Olivia and called out to stop her.
“Just a moment, Your Highness.”
She stopped. Because the lamp was behind Isabelle, Olivia's face as she turned around was clearly visible.
Isabelle looked straight into her eyes and opened the clutch. As she slowly took out the silver item that gleamed dazzlingly even in the dim light, the Princess's gaze followed.
Isabelle held out the flashlight to her.
“Aren’t you the owner of this flashlight...?”
Isabelle's heart pounded.
That's really strange. She clearly held it out, intending to hurt the Princess, but...
As the Princess accepted the flashlight, she wondered why she felt as though she were falling into an even deeper abyss.
The Princess looked down at the flashlight with an inscrutable expression, then raised her head. And she slowly began to speak.
"That is right. It is the item I gave to His Royal Highness the Prince."
Isabelle's mind went blank.
How preposterous was the dream she had hoped for?
“Why did you show this to me?”
“...I’m going to return it.”
The Princess let out a chuckle. Then she held out the flashlight again.
“I gave it to His Royal Highness the Prince, and if His Royal Highness gave it to you, it is yours. There is no need to return it to me. If you wish to dispose of it, you may do so, Young Lady.”
There was no lingering emotion in the clean refusal.
How can this woman be so neat? Why doesn't she waver even once?
“Aren’t you curious how I got this?”
It was a stupid question.
The Princess Consort's expression darkened for a moment, but she soon spoke indifferently.
“That was probably given to you by His Highness before he married me.”
“...”
“Everyone has their own reasons for living, so no matter how much I love him, I do not want to dig into his past. If he gave it to you, there must have been a valid reason, and since it has nothing to do with me, I won’t bother to pry.”
“...”
"It would have been better if I hadn't known, but since I found out, it can't be helped. I'm going to give up and forget about it. So, take care of disposing of that item yourself. That is, if you came here with the intention of apologizing to me."
It was a clean refusal and an equally clean reason.
The Princess turned elegantly and disappeared, leaving Isabelle alone in the mud, along with the flashlight the Prince had left her.
Isabelle, who had been standing there blankly, became genuinely envious of Olivia.
She envied her for uttering the word "giving up," and she envied her composure to turn away without any lingering regrets.
Isabelle stopped in her tracks and stared down at the flashlight for a long time, oblivious to the biting winter wind creeping chillingly into her embrace.
"Your Majesty, the Queen."
As the Queen turned her head at someone's call, Olivia turned around with her. Several noble ladies were standing there, including Mrs. Lehmann, Lucy's nanny.
"Oh, everyone's here."
Beatrix gently took Olivia's arm.
“Olivia, these are noble ladies I am close with. Let me introduce them.”
Then, a petite lady wearing a red shawl approached Olivia and urged the Queen in a gentle voice.
“Your Majesty, the Queen, please introduce me to Her Royal Highness. I will go first. I have been waiting for this moment since her congratulatory speech for the founding of the Royal School.”
"Oh, dear. I need to go first, Your Majesty, as I have some admissions counseling to attend. I absolutely must learn about admission to Harrington College today. It is very urgent."
Beatrix let out an exaggerated sigh and said as if it couldn't be helped.
"I’ll introduce you in order of age. Starting with the oldest."
"Oh, my God. How cruel."
Loud laughter erupted, and Olivia ended up laughing along as well.
Time passed quickly.
For the first time in days, Olivia laughed sincerely and engaged in meaningful conversations with people. She momentarily forgot Noah, who had been occupying a corner of her mind, and forgot the magic dome that had stirred Herod, and thus, she even forgot time itself.
Someone approached and spoke to Olivia, who was unaware that the sun hanging overhead was sliding westward and slowly setting.
"It's been a long time, Your Highness."
Mrs. Lehman's expression stiffened slightly as she spoke with Olivia.
When Olivia turned her head toward the person who had called her, standing there was someone with gorgeous red hair that looked as if it had been made by melting the sunset.
How could she ever forget this red hair?
Olivia smiled and greeted them.
“It’s been a long time, Lady Seymour. How have you been?”
Queen Beatrix, who had been watching from a distance, slammed her wine glass down, revealing her displeasure. The lady standing nervously beside her bowed her head respectfully.
“Marchioness Coleman, I wonder why you went out of your way to bring Seymour’s daughter here.”
Mrs. Coleman wore a desperate expression at the Queen's blunt remark.
“Isabelle is scheduled to marry my son Jackson soon, Your Majesty. I ask that you regard her as Coleman’s woman, not Seymour’s daughter. Isabelle will apologize to Her Highness the Princess today on behalf of her mother for her rudeness.”
The Marchioness Coleman turned her head to look at Isabelle. The light in her deep reddish-brown eyes was as hard as mahogany wood and felt stern.
The Marchioness soon turned her head toward the Queen and spoke loyally, like a knight.
"Coleman exists for Astrid's glory."
“...”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty, for deciding to accept Seymour’s daughter, who dared to challenge Astrid’s glory, as a member of the family.”
Just then, Olivia stood up from her seat. She then headed to the deserted terrace with Isabelle. Mrs. Lehmann, who was with Olivia, gave them a hurried look.
Beatrix, who had been agonizing over the decision, picked up her wine glass again and spoke.
“I’ll believe you. Coleman has always been loyal.”
Marchioness Coleman nodded as if to ask to be believed, then muttered in a weary voice.
"I've found that there are no parents who can win against their children."
“...”
"It was impossible to win."
Marquis and Marchiness Coleman objected, but Jackson Coleman insisted that it had to be Isabelle. There was no way to win.
The sincerity mixed in the Marchioness's deep sigh was conveyed to the Queen as well.
Beatrix looked up at the terrace where Olivia and Isabelle had disappeared. What could they be talking about?
The fence of the family and parents was so solid.
Isabelle realized it only after the fence was gone.
"I didn't want to take you in as a daughter-in-law."
It felt as if her skin was being cut by the fierce gaze of Mrs. Coleman, who once held her hand tightly and showered her mother with praise.
“The Marquis of Coleman is supposed to maintain friendly relations with the Royal Family. But didn't Mrs. Seymour treat the Princess with disrespect? I didn't want to go out of my way to bring you in as a daughter-in-law and cause trouble.”
“But why...”
"It's because of Jackson."
Her dark brown eyes were so cold that it felt as if a shiver was washing over her. The Marchioness stared intently at her face.
“There is a charity party hosted by Her Majesty the Queen today. I hear that Her Highness the Princess is attending as well. Come with me now. Go and apologize to Her Highness the Princess for your mother’s rudeness.”
"But...!"
“Why? What more do you need to apologize for regarding that?”
Marchioness Coleman chuckled and picked up her teacup.
“If you don’t want to, please call off this marriage.”
"... Yes?"
“I have no desire to bring into the household someone who would be a liability rather than a benefit. The Marquis shares this sentiment. If you wish to become a member of the Coleman family, follow our family traditions. A Princess is a Princess. The Royal Family is the Royal Family.”
“...”
“What are you going to do, Isabelle?”
At Mrs. Coleman's bitter question, Isabelle eventually came to this place.
She could not leave the capital with her family. She did not know where the compulsion that she had to die within the capital, if anything, originated, but she desperately wanted to stay.
As the terrace door closed, the Princess turned to look at her.
"Do you have something to say to me?"
The Princess, with her back to the faint light, was incredibly beautiful. Isabelle was unbearably envious of her for possessing both the tiara she had been unable to give up and Noah Astrid.
“She is a person who does not need your approval. A Princess is a Princess. Just keep that in mind.”
Recalling the voice of the Marchioness Coleman, Isabelle clenched her teeth tightly. Then she bowed her head respectfully.
“I apologize on behalf of my mother for her rudeness, Your Highness. Please forgive her.”
Overwhelmed by a flood of shame, she felt as if tears were about to burst forth. As her eyes grew hot, Isabelle pressed them shut tightly.
How ridiculous must I seem to you like this?
A fleeting moment felt as long as an eternity, when an indifferent voice settled over her head.
"There is nothing for me to forgive, nor is there anything for you to ask me to forgive."
The voice, devoid of even a shred of joy or mockery, felt alien.
Isabelle opened her eyes wide. When she looked up, the Princess was staring at her with a face as emotionless as her voice.
“What is that...”
"Just be polite to me from now on. I will be polite to you, too."
"Are you accepting my apology?"
"Is it important whether I receive it or not?"
"It's important."
“Then I’ll just say I received it. If anyone asks me that, I’ll answer that I did.”
Isabelle was growing increasingly irritated. Her heart was surging violently like a stormy sea, yet the Princess was so detached.
Even though she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't take her gaze off the Princess as if she were glaring.
"If you have nothing more to say, I’ll be going now."
The Princess straightened her back elegantly and brushed past her.
Isabelle's lower lip trembled.
'Isn't it ridiculous that I'm floundering in the abyss like this?'
Isabelle turned toward Olivia and called out to stop her.
“Just a moment, Your Highness.”
She stopped. Because the lamp was behind Isabelle, Olivia's face as she turned around was clearly visible.
Isabelle looked straight into her eyes and opened the clutch. As she slowly took out the silver item that gleamed dazzlingly even in the dim light, the Princess's gaze followed.
Isabelle held out the flashlight to her.
“Aren’t you the owner of this flashlight...?”
Isabelle's heart pounded.
That's really strange. She clearly held it out, intending to hurt the Princess, but...
As the Princess accepted the flashlight, she wondered why she felt as though she were falling into an even deeper abyss.
The Princess looked down at the flashlight with an inscrutable expression, then raised her head. And she slowly began to speak.
"That is right. It is the item I gave to His Royal Highness the Prince."
Isabelle's mind went blank.
How preposterous was the dream she had hoped for?
“Why did you show this to me?”
“...I’m going to return it.”
The Princess let out a chuckle. Then she held out the flashlight again.
“I gave it to His Royal Highness the Prince, and if His Royal Highness gave it to you, it is yours. There is no need to return it to me. If you wish to dispose of it, you may do so, Young Lady.”
There was no lingering emotion in the clean refusal.
How can this woman be so neat? Why doesn't she waver even once?
“Aren’t you curious how I got this?”
It was a stupid question.
The Princess Consort's expression darkened for a moment, but she soon spoke indifferently.
“That was probably given to you by His Highness before he married me.”
“...”
“Everyone has their own reasons for living, so no matter how much I love him, I do not want to dig into his past. If he gave it to you, there must have been a valid reason, and since it has nothing to do with me, I won’t bother to pry.”
“...”
"It would have been better if I hadn't known, but since I found out, it can't be helped. I'm going to give up and forget about it. So, take care of disposing of that item yourself. That is, if you came here with the intention of apologizing to me."
It was a clean refusal and an equally clean reason.
The Princess turned elegantly and disappeared, leaving Isabelle alone in the mud, along with the flashlight the Prince had left her.
Isabelle, who had been standing there blankly, became genuinely envious of Olivia.
She envied her for uttering the word "giving up," and she envied her composure to turn away without any lingering regrets.
Isabelle stopped in her tracks and stared down at the flashlight for a long time, oblivious to the biting winter wind creeping chillingly into her embrace.
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