BCOM 12

Chapter 12

“Have you arrived, Marquis Rejurn!”

The loud voices of the knights echoed.

Every morning, once Theowin finished his brief exercise and sat down to a slightly late breakfast, the sound of knights greeting someone from afar would drift in.

Of course, the words weren’t perfectly clear, but from the very first day, when he happened to overhear it nearby, that greeting had served Theowin as a reliable alarm.

When he left the imperial palace, his attire was so ordinary that it was difficult to think of him as the Crown Prince at all. No outfit could ever fully hide his tall frame and strikingly handsome face, but his clothes looked like something any noble heir in the capital might wear.

“Are you going out again today?”

A man followed behind him, speaking in a low but precise tone, almost like a whisper.

“Do you still bother with such questions?”

The Crown Prince deflected the inquiry with another question. His escort knight, Randler, shook his head, not answering.

“You’ve never once given me a proper answer, have you?”

Randler had his own frustrations.

His duty, of course, was to guard Theowin. But for several days now, Theowin had been disappearing alone in the afternoons, leaving Randler with no idea where he went.

Yet not only did Theowin refuse to take him along, he wouldn’t even say where he was going. Answering a question with a question was the clearest dismissal possible.

Ignoring Randler’s mounting frustration, Theowin lengthened his strides. Today, however, his persistent escort kept close.

“Please, take me with you.”

“There are places you must not go.”

The curt reply startled Randler. Until now, Theowin hadn’t deigned to answer at all—but now, when he finally pressed, his words were flatly denied. Randler’s brow furrowed deeply in irritation.

Theowin himself was beginning to grow impatient with his knight’s persistence.

Who would willingly wait around, hoping Lady Aneth might appear at her window?

Just the day before yesterday, she had checked to see if he was outside. After that, she brought out her embroidery, set it aside almost immediately, and picked up a book instead.

The sight of her sitting on the bed with a book had looked like a painting. Like a delicate young lady, a little under the weather, reading peacefully in the warm sun.

And then she had lost herself in the story. Lost so deeply that she hadn’t noticed the passage of hours.

“Today, I should be back quickly.”

With only that parting remark, Theowin pressed on with determined steps. When he quickened his pace, Randler stopped following.

Mounted, Theowin left the palace behind. His face lightened, as if the ride itself had unburdened him.

Yesterday, she had already been in her room when he arrived, glancing out at the terrace to check his presence—yet she hadn’t opened the window.

“She must be very stubborn… or she simply despises me.”

Whatever her reason, he hadn’t expected such consistent rejection.

And yet, the truth was, he was the odd one here. If she refused him, he could simply stop coming. No one had ordered him to go. Nothing terrible would happen if he didn’t.

Why, then, did he keep treating her as someone special?

He couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment it had begun.

Perhaps it was that day.

The anniversary of the Marchioness’s death, when Aneth had been left alone in the mansion while the Marquis went to the mountains. That day, the Emperor had invited her to the palace.

She had grumbled endlessly, even going so far as to suggest breaking off the marriage. He had been so irritated by her then. And yet… maybe even at that time, he had already fallen into the strange delusion that she was someone he must have.

That was why he could not bring himself to demand she accept his visits. His repeated appearances were not the result of any mutual promise—he alone was acting unilaterally.

“Well… if I’m being honest, the one in the wrong here is me.”

By now, his horse had carried him to a familiar high wall.

He had no permission to be here. No welcome awaited him.

And still, his feet carried him forward.

He tied up his horse nearby, vaulted lightly onto the wall, and dropped into the courtyard in one smooth motion.

Behind him, only the horse remained, lazily chewing grass.

Would she be waiting inside today as well? He so loved that brief instant when their eyes met.

With such thoughts swirling, Theowin leapt up onto the terrace. Inside, all was quiet. As he crept toward the window, her room seemed still.

He always arrived during her mealtime. After startling her once by appearing suddenly, he had since tried to be more cautious.

He climbed softly, careful not to startle her, hoping she would simply notice him.

“So yesterday really was unusual.”

Already, something felt different.

Though no one was inside, when he glanced toward the table in search of a chair, he froze.

Spread across the tabletop was far more than usual: a steaming teapot, fine porcelain cups, sandwiches, and even cookies—an elegant tea spread.

“This… for me…?”

His brow furrowed, refusing to smooth out.

She hadn’t wanted to let him in, nor to publicly admit any closeness with him. Yet if she didn’t… then whenever he appeared, he’d remain nothing more than an uninvited ghost at her window.

Still, he stared at the table.

Everything was there—except for three things: a second teacup, an extra fork, and a teaspoon.

The table had been set for one.

For him alone.

Should he be pleased or saddened? His frown deepened, then suddenly broke into laughter.

What a sly young lady. He could hardly remember why he had been so tormented before.

Theowin sat down at the solitary place set for him. Somehow, she had even matched his tastes: the type of tea, the fillings of the sandwiches, the cookies—all perfectly to his liking.

Did she know his preferences? Or had she simply arranged things politely, since she was preparing them anyway?

His large, elegant hand moved gracefully. For all his soldierly bearing, he poured the tea with practiced poise. He raised the steaming cup, savoring its aroma. It tasted almost identical to what he drank at the palace—clearly well chosen.

“Today, I’ll ask her to open that door. Maybe…”

He took another sip of tea, bit into a sandwich, and chewed carefully. Just then, he felt movement from inside the room.

He forced himself to finish chewing, then sipped again, keeping his face composed.

Only one person entered. And it was, unmistakably, the one who had occupied his thoughts for days—Aneth.

She would, of course, check the terrace first. But what would she think, seeing him calmly drinking tea at the table she had prepared?

Theowin finally set everything down. This was no time to sit idly over tea.

“Lady Aneth.”

He rose from his chair and approached the window.

Even with it closed, he knew she could hear him clearly. He had already discovered the soundproofing was poor.

At his voice, she turned slightly from the cabinet she had been gazing at.

Normally, she would have pretended not to hear. Today, that small reaction was a great change.

“You’re here.”

How long had it been since she last spoke to him? For days, though he was always there, she had treated him as if he were a ghost.

Theowin suppressed the smile tugging at his lips and looked at her.

Yesterday she had seemed pale, but today her face was bright. That alone lifted his mood.

“Perhaps it’s time you opened this door. If you can’t let me in, then you can at least come out. The sunlight feels warmer than you’d expect.”

He offered the suggestion lightly, trying to sound casual. Today, he thought, perhaps the door between them might finally open.

“What door are you talking about?”

Her reply was strange. Theowin’s brow twitched—he hadn’t expected rejection.

“…This locked door, of course. Or must I say ‘window’ for you to understand?”

He clicked his tongue, annoyed at himself for sounding petulant.

She turned fully toward him, her gentle smile radiant.

“That’s just it. There is no locked door here.”

Ah. He’d been caught.

Realizing the meaning behind her words, Theowin gave a helpless, self-mocking laugh.

Click.

Without looking away from her, he grasped the handle. The window, which should have stopped firmly shut, slid open with ease.