CHAPTER 11……………………………
“Who’s coming?!”
Rosnelli, seated on an ornate chair so large it resembled a throne, raised one eyebrow skeptically.
Natasha smiled and repeated herself.
“His Highness Crown Prince Leonhardt.”
“Say that again.”
“Ugh… I said His Highness Crown Prince Leonhardt has made a reservation at Silentium!”
“…Why all of a sudden?!”
Even Rosnelli thought it was a foolish question. Of course he was coming for treatment. It wasn’t like he was visiting his ex-wife’s face after a divorce. He had always been unwell—he must have gotten worse during the war. It was such a simple, obvious reason that Rosnelli awkwardly cleared her throat and fiddled with her hair.
“Isn’t it good publicity if rumors spread that the Crown Prince visited?”
“…We’re already so famous that we don’t need any more publicity. In fact, we’re reaching the point where too many people are coming.”
“Come on, you say that, but I know that’s not really how you feel, boss.”
“Huh?”
Natasha spoke seriously. She knows? What does she know? Rosnelli was just uncomfortable about seeing her ex-husband. What could be more awkward than a divorced couple meeting in the same place?
“I have eyes, you know. You’ve been worried the whole time. Ever since you heard he went to the battlefield.”
“That’s just basic decency as a person.”
“I also know you’ve been secretly sending supplies to the battlefield.”
“—What are you even talking about…?”
Rosnelli pretended not to understand, but her ears turned red. It wasn’t anything special—just guilt. After all, Leonhardt had agreed to her unreasonable request for divorce and ended up going to war because of it. She wasn’t the only one sending supplies; plenty of nobles did. It was nothing. Just basic decency.
Come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t that awkward. Maybe she was just overthinking it. He was probably just coming because Silentium was a perfect place for recovery.
“Oh, and His Highness said he’ll be renting the entire annex.”
“He’s certainly generous.”
“He also asked us not to accept any other guests. And he’s paying this much money, including a special request fee.”
Natasha showed her a number scribbled on paper with a feather pen.
Rosnelli stared at the figure for a long moment, then gasped.
“…Yes. Tell him we will serve him with utmost sincerity.”
“Understood.”
It didn’t matter if he was her ex-husband. He was a guest now. And guests were kings.
A few days later, Rosnelli received an official imperial decree.
It stated that Crown Prince Leonhardt would be coming to Silentium for rest, and that King Terius and Queen Kanis of Pantreon would also be visiting for a vacation.
For three months, Rosnelli, as both the manager of Silentium and a citizen of the Robea Empire, was to host them with utmost care.
It was a little awkward having to serve her ex-husband—but the jewel box filled with unimaginable wealth had already won her over.
This worked out better. Having the king and queen of another nation as guests would make things less uncomfortable than just Leonhardt alone.
“The Kingdom of Pantreon… that’s the country that requested military support during Leonhardt’s war, right? Are they close or something? Coming on vacation together…”
Rosnelli had overlooked one thing.
That such an astronomical payment always came with a reason.
And she would one day regret not paying closer attention to Natasha’s words.
Especially that “special request.”
Meanwhile, the ministers clung to Leonhardt as though they were holding onto his cloak, trousers—anything they could grab.
Please rest! You must recover!
Tired of their endless pleading, Leonhardt finally gave in.
“Fine. I’ll go to Silentium. Now leave me alone.”
Satisfied, the ministers quickly retreated and immediately sent an official decree to Silentium.
They knew his temperament well—once he decided something, it was final.
Leonhardt, meanwhile, intended to finish as much state work as possible before leaving the palace.
His obsessive work ethic had three reasons.
First, he trusted no one but himself.
Second, he believed rest was a waste of time—he didn’t even know what “rest” was supposed to be.
Third… he simply couldn’t sleep.
Tomorrow he would leave for Silentium, yet sleep would not come.
Lying in bed, he felt an inexplicable tension—like being back in a trench on the battlefield.
He remembered the past.
Arrows flying overhead. The thunder of catapults. The ground shaking with explosions. The unfamiliar sound of bombs that felt like the end of the world.
Terius had once said, looking at a locket with his wife’s portrait:
“I’m going to confess to Kanis once I make it back alive.”
“You’re already married. What are you confessing?”
“I don’t think I ever actually told her I love her. What about you?”
“Me?”
“You’re hopeless. No wonder you got divorced. And don’t you always think of Rosnelli?”
“That’s nonsense.”
“Don’t be stubborn. If we survive, you should confess too. Your expression is way too tragic.”
He had dismissed it as delirium brought on by death’s proximity.
But now, why was he remembering it?
Leonhardt shook his head.
Nonsense. Just nonsense.
Or… had it been a prediction?
On the morning of departure, Terius—waving wildly with zero royal dignity—was indeed standing there.
“…Why is that bastard here?”
“Your Highness, please refrain from calling a king ‘that bastard’…”
“Then why is that bastard here?!”
Leonhardt glared at the ministers.
Terius grinned.
“Leonhardt! Why are you scolding the old men again? You’ll give yourself an illness like that, haha!”
“What are you doing here instead of running your kingdom?”
“Relax, relax. I’ve worked hard, my ministers are competent, and I just came for a break. Even kings need rest!”
Leonhardt stared at him silently.
Terius quickly cleared his throat and changed tone.
“My wife has been unwell lately, so we came for treatment. Right, dear?”
“Yes, of course.”
The queen looked perfectly healthy and glowing.
“Since you’re also going to rest, wouldn’t it be better if we all vacation together? You’re secretly quite lonely, aren’t you? Don’t deny it—”
“Your country?”
“Everything’s fine. I’ve got capable ministers. Don’t worry about it!”
Leonhardt exhaled quietly.
He already understood their intentions.
They were here for Rosnelli.
“I told you nothing will change…”
He muttered under his breath.
That woman’s heart would not change.
She had once said:
“You’re handsome, that’s all. Not my type. I have bigger goals.”
Yes.
Even if everyone gathered here tried…
Rosnelli Ferdi’s heart would not be moved.
