Home/The Prince died, so we're starting over!/ch7

Episode 7

Ah, so he meant something like the stigma of being a divorcee.

Only then did I understand why the Third Prince had pulled out such an overwhelming card—the North's only ice-free port.

This was a sort of alimony. And an astronomical sum at that.

Come to think of it, in this conservative noble society, a broken engagement was clearly a significant matter. All the more so if it was with the Imperial family.

Any typical noble lady who considered a broken engagement a great disgrace would never dream of accepting a contract engagement with the Third Prince.

"Would having Delique make any difference?"

But even if Delique was a magnificent city, it couldn't restore damaged honor.

Having Delique would just make you a wealthy divorcee instead of a plain one—wouldn't it?

Of course, as a modern person, I didn't think much of a broken engagement, but there was no way the Third Prince could know that.

At my question, the Third Prince awkwardly stroked his chin with his fingertips and mumbled quietly.

"...Cal—no, the Northern Duke's most coveted land is Delique. All goods bound for the North must pass through Delique."

"Are you saying... you want me to use Delique to negotiate with His Grace the Duke?"

"If that is what you wish, Lady Lulupel."

Oh ho.

This made it abundantly clear that the Third Prince had not abandoned his fixation on the theory that Hariella was pining after the young duke of Cal-something-or-other.

The Third Prince had come to Lulupel believing that Hariella, who pined for the Northern young duke, would certainly be interested in his proposal.

Certainly, if it were the Northern Duke—if not any other noble—he would not refuse a daughter-in-law who brought Delique as her dowry.

Of course, having never even seen the young duke's face, I would sooner choose to live well on my own with Delique than offer it to the Northern Duke and marry his son...

But the more I observed the Third Prince, the more unique he seemed.

Did normal children think this deeply? Was it because he was a prince? Or because he was the sub-male lead?

"...By the way, is it certain that we'll break off the engagement?"

"Excuse me?"

No sooner had one question been resolved than another sprang up like a fountain.

The Third Prince, who seemed to have never anticipated such a question, blinked wide-eyed and tilted his head.

At times like this, he seemed like an ordinary child again... Was he just precocious?

"All the clauses seem to be premised on breaking the engagement once you come of age."

"Is that not what you want?"

Well, I mean, it was, but...

I had nothing to say, so I let the words trail off.

What on earth was the Third Prince getting out of this engagement?

I simply couldn't find an answer to that question.

The Third Prince wasn't some giving tree—it made no sense for him to be giving away so much unilaterally.

A deal that entirely favored one party could never be a complete deal.

"Your Highness! Here you are!"

But I couldn't press the Third Prince for any further explanation.

A servant of the prince had entered the garden and was running toward us breathlessly.

"It seems we can't talk any longer."

"So it seems."

"Read the other clauses carefully when you return to your room. If there's anything you'd like to add, feel free to write it in at the bottom."

"All right..."

"...And."

Rising from the bench and neatly straightening his attire, the Third Prince looked me straight in the eye.

"I trust you will keep everything we've discussed just now a secret. All of it—the existence of this contract, and even the fact that I am the owner of Delique."

With a warning that didn't suit his adorable face, the Third Prince turned and walked away.

A boy who, while proposing an engagement premised on a future breakup with someone he had no affection for, still thought of his fiancée's future.

A boy who stammered like a naive, innocent child, yet held back his words on truly important questions.

Was he cold or kind? Dim-witted or shrewd?

The Third Prince was truly an unfathomably strange child.

---

It was quite some time after the Third Prince's servant had come and gone that Sir Peter finally arrived at the lakeside garden.

Drenched in sweat, he offered a half-hearted excuse about getting lost in the maze garden.

Feeling a bit sorry for him, I handed over my handkerchief.

It was the very same handkerchief that had been rejected by the Third Prince just moments earlier.

Unlike the Third Prince, Sir Peter was deeply moved and accepted the handkerchief with the utmost care, as if it were a sacred relic.

"I shall treasure this handkerchief as a family heirloom...!"

"Don't think about keeping it—just wipe your sweat."

He had been clutching the handkerchief I'd given him to wipe his face and spouting nonsense, only to be scolded by me.

With Sir Peter now looking much fresher after wiping off the sweat, he escorted me back to my guest room in the palace.

Anna, who had been waiting alone for me all evening, rushed to the door the moment we opened it.

"Ah, good evening, Miss Anna!"

"Good evening, Sir Peter."

"Oh, you look as beautiful as ever..."

"You must have had a long day. It would be best for you to go rest now. Good night!"

Sir Peter seemed to want to say something to Anna, but she all but shooed him away.

She slammed the door shut, bolted it, and immediately clung to me.

Anna's eyes were practically bursting with curiosity about how my first meeting with the Third Prince had gone.

"How was it?"

"How was what?"

"Oh, don't play coy with me!"

The same smile I'd seen that morning was plastered across her face.

It was that look—the one of watching a little child begin their first love.

"Well, nothing much happened... Still, he was cute."

"He was cute?"

"Yeah. Like a newly hatched chick."

It felt a bit uncomfortable, but I figured playing it cool would seem stranger, so I mixed in some honesty.

Then, from between Anna's lips, an odd sound escaped—whether a sigh of joy or lament, I couldn't tell.

"Goodness... Hearing you say that gives me such a strange feeling."

"Don't tell me you're treating me like a child now?"

"Oh, of course not."

Anna kept chattering away while efficiently attending to her duties.

She brushed my hair, washed my face, and finally changed my clothes.

Having Anna wait on me was quite pleasant—though the downside was that it made me feel like an overgrown child.

It was a similar sensation to the pleasure of having one's hair washed at a salon.

"Now, raise your arms."

I obediently bent my head and closed my eyes as Anna instructed. It was only when I raised my arms that I remembered the contract in my dress pocket.

"Oh!"

"Yes? What's wrong? Are you unwell?"

"Hmm? No, it's nothing. A leaf must have stuck to me."

Slipping my hand into the pocket, I crumpled the contract and tossed it under the bed with a casual air, as if it were something of no consequence.

Fortunately, Anna didn't seem to notice anything amiss. She continued her work without comment.

"But really, where on earth did you go and what did you do?"

"Hm? I went to the banquet."

"No, not that. I'm asking because you came back with your hem covered in dirt and your hair in complete disarray."

"Oh, that's..."

I couldn't very well tell her the truth—that I'd been negotiating an engagement with the Third Prince by the lakeside garden.

I rolled my eyes, searching for something else to say, when a thought struck me and I clapped my hands.

"That's right! Anna!"

"Yes?"

"Do you know the young duke of Cal-something-or-other?"

"The young duke of Cal-something...?"

"Cal—no, maybe it was Curry-something?"

"Curry-something...?"

The name had been something like that. But for some reason, Anna didn't seem to catch on.

I rummaged through my mind for the young duke's name.

But no matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't recall that difficult name.

How strange. I'd definitely heard it... Had I been paying too little attention?

In the end, I gave up trying to remember his name. Instead, I offered an alternative.

"I don't quite remember the name, but he's the son of the Northern Duke. The young duke of the North! Do you know him?"

"The young duke of the North... Good heavens! Surely you don't mean the young duke of Caledonia?"

Riiip.

From somewhere, a sound like a football being torn apart reached my ears.

I looked down to see that Anna had neatly torn my dress in two.

"Anna..."

"Oh dear!"

"Did you have something good to eat while I was gone...?"

So full of energy. How lovely.

I muttered in dismay.

Anna flinched and didn't know what to do.

"C-C-C-Caled— no, wh-why would you ask about s-such an improper name...?"

"Anna, I can't understand a word you're saying."

Anna herself seemed unsure of what she was saying.

Her gaze wandered aimlessly, lost.

Her hands trembled like aspen leaves, unable to stay still.

I calmly poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table and handed it to Anna.

Only after downing three glasses in a row did Anna manage to regain her composure.

"I-I'm so sorry, my lady. I was just so surprised..."

"It's fine. But more importantly, I'm cold."

"Huh? Oh! Your nightgown!"

Anna was so startled that she seemed to have momentarily forgotten she had just torn my nightgown in half.

Just what secret was hidden between Hariella and that Cal-something young duke?

At this point, it was getting rather intriguing.

With the detached curiosity of an outsider, I pressed Anna for an explanation.

And truth be told, it was half someone else's story anyway.

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