Chapter 21

Scree…

Omo blinked its beady, button-like eyes and tilted its head.

I pressed my overheated forehead against the window to cool it down.

“Haaa…”

After calming myself and organizing my thoughts, I wrote a letter. I carefully tied it to Omo’s thin leg and held him up gently with both hands.

“Omo, can you deliver this to the Duke of Claremont?”

Screeee? Scree! Scree-scree-screeeee!

Omo flared its eyes, flapped its wings furiously, and pecked at the edge of the note tied to its ankle in protest.

Wait—did Tessarion do something to him? Omo clearly didn’t like Tessarion. Holding the struggling bird with both hands, I made eye contact with him.

“I have to stop the Duke from doing anything reckless right now! Sending a reply to Altair can wait—this is more urgent!”

Omo blinked his dark eyes quietly. I pressed more firmly.

“Find the Duke. Now.”

Finally, Omo flew out the window. I slumped into the chair and stared at the note from Altair in my hand, then glanced back up at the full moon.

“Goddess, I seriously don’t know what’s going on anymore…”

Maybe it was just the frustration—I started muttering a prayer.

“But I’m supposed to just make the male lead and the heroine fall in love, right?”

The goddess gave no answer. Everything was a tangled mess I couldn’t fully understand, but even if the route was twisted, wasn’t the destination all that mattered?

That’s why Altair… could not, under any circumstances, be allowed near Berieta. She had come to this foreign place to marry, and running into a kind older brother she once had a childhood crush on would only stir her heart again.

“All I need is the enchantment spell…”

As long as Berieta could be happy with Tessarion—that was all that mattered in this world.

“Roy.”

I jumped at the voice calling my name. I must’ve dozed off for a bit.

When I looked up, Tessarion was standing with his back to the large terrace window, looking down at me.

“Oh, you’re back, Duke. I apologize.”

I bowed toward the owner of the room. The sky had turned a bluish hue. His cloak smelled of early dawn and damp earth—he must have been outside all this time. I reached quickly to take the dew-soaked gear from him.

“Did you go somewhere urgent? Why did you suddenly leave without saying anything?”

“…”

Tessarion didn’t take off his cloak or gloves. He just stared at me.

I fidgeted, lips parting, then dropped my gaze.

“Did I say something inappropriate earlier? Did I offend you? I’m sorry. If you let me know what I did wrong, I’ll never repeat it again.”

“Forget it. I just…”

Just?

Tessarion clamped his mouth shut and turned his gaze away.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Well, now I am worried.

“Ah, yes. Then, shall I help you change?”

I swallowed my curiosity and reached to undo his cloak clasp, but Tessarion slapped my hand away and stepped back.

“No need. We’re leaving in an hour anyway.”

Was it that late already? I glanced out the window. The stablehands and attendants were bustling about, preparing horses and loading supplies onto carriages.

“You said you had something to tell me before we leave. What is it?”

Ah.

I finally remembered the contents of the note I sent with Omo. I bowed my head again.

“I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“…”

I’m worried about your mental state, how much more Princess Berieta might get hurt, whether things will fall apart and I’ll end up dying without ever going home again… You know, those kinds of worries.

I gently grasped the edge of his black cloak and knelt.

“Your Grace, I was brought here due to my father’s grave mistake. I have a distant relative—Sir Murray—but I only met him once as a child. I still feel uncomfortable around him, and with you, and the steward, and the knights… It’s been hard adjusting. And that’s me, someone who’s also from the North. The princess, with no ties here and in poor health, must be struggling even more. So…”

“…”

“I beg you to consider her circumstances, even just a little.”

“Consider her?”

Tessarion’s cold tone made my throat tighten and my hands tremble.

“Are you asking to serve the princess now?”

I’d suspected it, but now it was clear—Tessarion had no intention of appointing me as Princess Berieta’s knight-attendant. But I had to fix this wreck of a storyline.

“I will follow Your Grace’s orders.”

“Hah!”

Tessarion scoffed in disbelief.

Caring for one’s betrothed, soon-to-be wife, should be the bare minimum. But Tessarion’s record over the past nine lifetimes was disgraceful.

There were rumors he barely even looked at the bride on their wedding day, skipped the ceremonial kiss, or even sent a proxy to sign the marriage certificate without showing up at all.

The story of their disastrous marriage had been posted in full detail on bulletin boards across the empire. To Berieta, the Claremont estate must have felt like exile.

“Why should I consider the princess?”

Tessarion sneered like the regretful male lead he was.

“Isn’t the princess the one who’s been the most deceitful—trying to control me by flaunting her status and connections?”

He turned his back, slandering a fiancée he hadn’t even met. My hand slipped from his cloak.

Grinding my teeth, I lowered my head. I could fully understand now why the original Roy Dover risked his life to betray Tessarion and help Berieta escape the estate.

“You think the princess is the emperor’s spy?”

Tessarion let out a hollow chuckle.

“A spy? Given how cleverly she flatters the emperor, she’s more dangerous than Crown Prince Heliote.”

What? How could he call a delicate, lily-like woman a cunning fox? That gap was insane.

“I know the rumors about her aren’t good. But you can’t really know someone unless you meet them yourself, right?”

“Don’t care to.”

Despite my plea, Tessarion stayed wrapped in his stubborn pride. Even though he’d suffered at the hands of the emperor, he usually never judged someone without firsthand experience—yet he was holding a deeply unfair prejudice against Princess Berieta.

He warned me in a low voice.

“Roy. Don’t be fooled by her.”

I scowled and pouted.

Hmph! Just wait. One day, you’ll be groveling at the princess’s feet like a dog!

That’s the fate of a regretful male lead!

❖ ❖ ❖

At the center of the Serentiti River, which split the continent north and south, stood a giant island fortress made of dense marble buildings.

Canals and small bridges wove between structures like spiderwebs, and people of all races and regions moved busily around the city day and night.

This was Shinnevan, the Free Economic City. Despite its neutrality under the Peace and Trade Pact, the Empire’s 1st Knights Division—draped in red capes and gold armor—had been stationed here for five days.

The crimson sun sank beneath the western horizon. As night fell, the tall streetlamps by the canals and the lights strung on gondolas lit up one by one, casting a brilliant glow.

It was a dazzling nightscape unlike any other city.

On a fourth-floor terrace overlooking Shinnevan’s north gate, a beautiful young man leaned against the railing and sighed.

“They said they’d arrived… Why aren’t they here yet…”

His long, moonlit blonde hair fluttered gently in the breeze. His milk-white face was flawless, his nose high and sharp, eyes as clear as the sky, and his rosy, plump lips looked as sweet as they were red. Even his frown looked as delicate and lovely as a newly blooming flower.