The garden of this mansion was indeed not as vast as the garden of the Handler Family's main residence in Brandenburg. Yet its expanse of flowers still stretched wide, far surpassing the small garden Mother had always tended at home.
Flowers bloomed beneath the warm sun. Small bees flew from one blossom to another, busy gathering nectar.
Such endearing little creatures.
Since leaving the drawing room, Fabian had not ceased to watch me. The more I noticed it, the harder it became to keep my composure. In the end, my attention shifted to the flowers swaying gently in the breeze, as though that were the most interesting thing in this garden.
"The weather is warm."
"Indeed, Your Grace."
The conversation began with simple pleasantries. Yet rather than driving away the awkwardness, the atmosphere only grew more silent still.
Ahead, an open pavilion stood gracefully at the corner of the garden. White stone pillars with fine carvings lent it an elegance without appearing excessive.
We walked toward it.
"My Lady."
"Your Grace."
"Your appearance is very different today."
"I hope my appearance does not offend Your Grace."
"That is not what I mean, My Lady."
"Then?"
The question had already left my lips, though in truth I had hoped it never would.
Yet being near Fabian always stirred a strange urge to know what lay within his thoughts.
Why?
I did not know.
Perhaps... I only wished to hear an honest opinion of my appearance today.
"Hm."
"..."
"Beautiful."
"Beautiful?"
"Indeed. You look very beautiful. It is difficult for me to look away."
"Ah... I..."
"Yes, My Lady."
When I turned, there was only a gentle smile behind Fabian's calm face. My gaze quickly returned to the flowers that had been my refuge all this while.
Beautiful.
That one simple word was enough to make my cheeks feel warm. I held back the flush of red with all my strength, so it would not show.
As much as possible, Fabian must not notice this oddity.
"Your Grace. The more I come to know you, the more it seems you are quite experienced in praising a woman's appearance."
"That is a poor judgment of me."
"Heh. Is that not rather a compliment?"
"Not all compliments carry good meaning."
"To my mind, it sounds like a good one."
"Haha..."
I glanced briefly as Fabian laughed softly, as though the light jab I had thrown were taken merely as a small jest.
Perhaps it truly was so.
We fell silent once more, following the stone path toward the pavilion.
Just as we reached the foot of the steps, my footsteps halted.
Fabian's manner felt too protective. The way he looked at me made me feel like some fragile girl unable even to climb a few steps.
"I can manage on my own."
"My Lady."
"Your Grace, please treat me as you would ordinarily. I am not so weak. Climbing a few steps is no trouble."
"Am I being too much, to the point that you feel uneasy being near me?"
"No."
"May I take your hand?"
"...."
"My Lady."
His calm voice was difficult to refuse.
"Allow me to accompany you. At the very least... as a sincere form of apology."
"That..."
"I am sorry."
"Very well. But please stop apologizing to me. Your Grace has done nothing wrong."
"Thank you for your generosity, My Lady."
"You..."
I let out a slow breath.
Fabian was truly skilled at choosing his words. There was always a way to close off every avenue of refusal.
Indeed there was no fault on his part. Only, the consideration he showed felt excessive. If I kept refusing, that apology would only keep repeating itself.
Besides...
It was only holding hands.
"My Lady."
I accepted the offered hand.
The instant our skin touched, my body tensed faintly. Nervousness arrived uninvited.
Calm down.
Yet that touch felt different.
There was a familiarity difficult to explain, as though my body still remembered it. Not as a clear memory, but as a faint feeling.
Fabian's palm was slightly rough. The calluses characteristic of a swordsman felt so real.
I lowered my gaze at once, avoiding those crimson eyes that kept fixed upon me, while my steps were guided up the stairs.
Upon reaching the pavilion, the grip loosened gently, and we took our seats. Fabian chose the chair opposite mine. The wooden table between us formed a boundary between the two of us.
Ian had likely seen what had just happened. I hoped no misunderstanding would arise.
Fabian broke the silence once more.
"I apologize for acting excessively."
"It is all right, Your Grace. I do not hold it against you. I only hope Your Grace no longer feels at fault."
"Thank you."
I offered a faint smile in return.
For a moment, those crimson eyes widened slightly before growing calm once more.
It was hard to guess what had surprised him so.
Did this smile look strange somehow?
Perhaps I ought to check a mirror later.
The more often Fabian apologized, the more awkward the atmosphere grew. Especially since it did not seem fitting to watch a Grand Duke keep humbling himself over so trivial a matter.
It only created its own kind of discomfort.
"Your Grace, may I know why you wished to speak with me alone?"
"It is nothing important."
"Then why must it be alone?"
"My Lady."
"Your Grace."
"Did I not say so yesterday? I wish to know you more closely. A conversation such as this is more fitting done alone."
"Ah... wait!"
"Is something wrong? Or am I truly unfit to know you further?"
"That is not it, Your Grace."
The words left my mouth almost without thought.
"You said it too suddenly."
"Then?"
"Are you... serious?"
Fabian nodded.
A moment later, his face turned aside. That small movement was nearly imperceptible, as though some change of expression had been deliberately hidden behind his calm.
This man, in all the time I had been near him, I had rarely seen so subtle a reaction.
Which meant...
Those words just now had not been a jest.
My heart began to beat faster once more.
More closely.
Did he truly mean closeness in a personal sense?
As friends...
Or...
That thought stopped at once.
Too quick to draw a conclusion.
***
The Crown Prince's Palace, Imperial Palace Complex
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
The clash of steel echoed across the main training yard, at the corner of the magnificent palace complex.
Upon the packed earth, two men of nearly the same height stood facing one another. Both swords moved swiftly, creating a pressure that held the knights around the arena transfixed as they watched.
Ssshhh!
A sharp slash cut through the air, followed by a thrust aimed at a vital point. Yet that attack was parried at once with a flawless motion.
The two did not merely exchange blows.
Each swing carried the distinct swordsmanship of its wielder, confining the opponent's space to move while reading even the smallest opening.
Those who watched could only hold their breath.
"His Highness grows stronger still. He is able to match Sir Robert, and has even begun to seize control of the bout's rhythm."
"His talent is truly fearsome. Reaching Supreme Expert at so young an age is something rarely seen."
"He is the future of the Empire. The Emperor's blood flows within him. As knights, it is our duty to support and protect his path."
"You are right."
That small exchange was filled with admiration and pride.
Not a single word was excessive.
The oath of loyalty once sworn in days past felt all the more meaningful now that the figure they protected had grown into one of extraordinary ability.
What was more, that man was the future Emperor of the Thronheim Empire.
The one who would carry this nation's glory upon his shoulders.
Slash!
Clang!
The bout did not slow.
On the contrary, the pressure between the two rose ever higher, as though reaching the very peak of their abilities.
Until at last...
Clang!!!
A sword flew loose from its grip and soared through the air before falling to strike the ground. Half its blade sank into the earth, trembling faintly from the impact.
Sir Robert, one of the chief guards who loyally attended the Crown Prince, halted before his opponent and lowered his head.
"Your Highness, your skill has surpassed mine. I am no longer able to keep pace with the rhythm of attacks you create."
"Robert, you praise me too much."
"No, Your Highness."
The Crown Prince drew a slow breath as he lowered his sword.
"It takes years to reach this level. Yet the outcome would differ were this a fight to the death."
"Your Highness. I mean it in earnest. In a fight to the death, the victor would still be you."
"Enough."
He then turned to the knights standing about the yard.
"Continue training. Improve your individual combat skill and instinct. I do not wish to hear any excuse during next month's expedition simply because your ability fails to meet expectation."
"The order shall be carried out at once, Your Highness."
After giving a small nod, he left the training arena.
At the side of the yard, a servant had already been waiting with head bowed.
The sword was handed over, and a cloth was received in turn to wipe away the remaining sweat.
"Your Highness."
"Sir Armand. What is it?"
"Count Blanken requests time to meet with you."
"Hmm. Has he completed his task?"
"Indeed, Your Highness."
"I am fond of his speed."
A faint smile appeared for a moment.
"Let us go. I am beginning to grow curious about the information on that girl."
"Yes, Your Highness."
***
How could Fabian know about my future attendance at the Imperial Academy?
Hearing the purpose of my visit to the capital from his own mouth still felt startling.
The information network he used to obtain such knowledge had never even crossed my mind.
Only two days had passed since we came to know each other, yet Fabian already knew of my plan to enter the academy.
That information was not something dangerous to the Empire. Yet the speed with which Fabian had obtained it since our meeting yesterday was already enough to leave me uneasy.
There was a possibility Fabian had investigated further still.
"It seems you know a great deal more about me, Your Grace."
"My Lady."
"Yes."
"I do not mean to offend by looking into your past. There is no need to worry. I did not seek out further information on your background."
Those words...
Could they be trusted?
Hard to be certain.
Fabian was someone who lived at the very center of the capital's circle of power. It would be foolish to believe every word that left his mouth without question.
Yet...
For Fabian?
Was it truly right not to trust him?
Some strange feeling within me refused to believe that he was lying.
"Your Grace. I understand your position. Investigating my background is both a right and a duty held by someone of your standing."
"My Lady..."
"I too would make the same decision were I in your position. So Your Grace need not concern yourself with my opinion. Your decision was correct."
"Lady Charlotte does not trust me."
"That is not so, Your Grace."
Where had I gone wrong?
Fabian instead turned his face aside, avoiding my gaze.
And yet I had chosen those words carefully, so they would not sound like blame.
If he truly wished to know me more closely, as he had said, accepting the fact that such an investigation had indeed taken place should not have been difficult.
"Your Grace."
"My Lady."
"I do not blame you."
Our eyes met once more.
"I trust Your Grace."
That faint smile appeared again.
For some reason, the sight felt like déjà vu.
As though this conversation had been calculated from the very start. As though Fabian had already known the answer that would be given.
The feeling of being drawn into someone's game appeared without warning.
"I am glad to hear that you trust me."
"Heh. That is because Your Grace is indeed trustworthy."
There was something in those crimson eyes.
Something difficult to explain.
A butterfly perched upon a flower stem beside the pavilion became a reason to look away.
Better to gaze upon something that did not make my chest feel so tight.
"What is it?"
"You are looking at me like that."
"My Lady's smile is very lovely. I lose my composure, unable to look away."
"Haha... Your Grace grows more skilled at flattery still. I am ever more convinced you are experienced in such matters."
"Indeed."
That answer came without the slightest hesitation.
"I am experienced because a very beautiful woman has been teaching me since yesterday."
Strange.
Was he truly only just learning?
The way Fabian arranged each word sounded far too natural for someone merely trying it for the first time.
Then...
Who was the woman he meant?
For some reason, hearing of another woman called beautiful felt troubling.
"May I know the identity of that beautiful woman, Your Grace?"
"Of course, My Lady."
Curiosity rose once more.
The butterfly on the flower stem still remained there, as though waiting for the answer too.
"That woman... pink hair, and a pair of eyes deep black."
My gaze shifted slowly.
"Wait..."
Awareness came too late.
"That is me. Hah?"
"Haha..."
Fabian's laughter sounded out.
Heat rushed at once to my face.
My gaze was hastily turned aside yet again.
Lowering my head might have been the better choice, but it only made my embarrassment plainer still. Let it be.
He was truly enjoying this reaction.
Why was Fabian so skilled at playing with words?
And who had taught this shameless man how to court a woman?
How bold, to name someone as his teacher only to justify that skill.
A mad Grand Duke.
Truly skilled at toying with someone's heart.
Go away, Fabian.
At least let this embarrassment fade.
"Adorable."
"Your Grace."
"My Lady."
"When did I ever teach you to flatter? You are clearly lying."
Do not come closer.
Yet Fabian kept walking toward me.
"Look at me, My Lady."
I did not want to.
My head bowed even lower.
Until at last Fabian stopped right beside me, blocking my view of the butterfly that had been my refuge all this while.
"My Lady."
My eyelids closed tightly.
As though darkness could hide the embarrassment filling my entire body.
Then...
Warmth touched my hand.
Fabian took my hand without hesitation when I gave no answer.
"My Lady."
That low voice sounded close.
"I wish to know you further, and so..."
A kiss.
...
Hah?
Fabian had truly gone mad.
I rose at once.
Without daring to look back again, I quickened my steps away from the pavilion.
Truly shameful.
He had kissed the back of my hand without the slightest hesitation.
And worse still...
Its warmth still lingered.
"Haha..."
Laughter sounded from behind.
I did not care.
My steps grew faster still, leaving the garden behind.
Meanwhile, my heart beat ever more erratically. My face felt hot as though with fever.
"Elder Sister."
Dorothea's call went unheard.
"Miss Charlotte."
"Miss."
Amy and Tina's voices too went unheeded.
The only wish was to return to my room at once.
Bang!
The door shut hard, then was locked.
My body fell upon the bed, my face burying itself into the surface of the pillow.
"Fabian is mad."