Chapter 90
As soon as Flint ordered Prince Pablesica to come north, the Cyclamen couple hurried back to their region. Meanwhile, Eliano headed to the greenhouse in Howard Manor’s garden.
Inside the greenhouse stood several healthy peach trees, warmed by magical temperature control. It was said the peaches had ripened just in time—Eliano had come to admire them.
Stepping into the greenhouse, she froze. The golden-haired figure standing by the tree triggered a memory so vivid she turned pale and whispered, “He came all this way…” She stumbled backward and collapsed.
Jane rushed up, alarmed: “Your Grace! Are you alright? Shall I fetch the physician?” The golden-haired man turned, chewing a peach, then hurried over to Eliano. Fear and surprise mirrored on his face.
Eliano lowered her head in trembling silence.
“What’s happening… Is the Duchess too ill?”
That voice snapped her back to reality. She’d mistaken him for someone else. The memory of abduction was still raw.
She exhaled and spoke weakly: “Jane, please help me up.” Jane lifted her gently. Seeing that the man wasn’t the threat she feared, Eliano regained composure and bowed with respect:
“Grand Duchess of Howard greets the Crown Prince.”
Heriath shook his head gently.
“No formalities, please. The Duchess is my only friend now—no need for stiffness.”
She replied, “As the wife of my husband’s commander and as one of the future Sun’s kin, I must observe proper courtesy.” Her tone polite—but firm. Heriath narrowed his eyes. The unseen wall between them remained—but he was capable of breaking it.
“We were casual friends in childhood, Ria.”
Hearing her childhood nickname made her smile faintly.
“I appreciate that the Little Sun still remembers childhood things.”
He noticed her pink hair.
“It’s still a beautiful color.”
She looked surprised.
“You remember that childhood time when I removed the earring to show you my true hair color? Damian nearly caused a scandal…”
Back then, she’d secretly shown Heriath her natural pink hair. He’d said it was the most beautiful color he had ever seen. Since then he always thought of her as pale rose quartz—though she’d pushed him away, feeling she didn’t deserve that delicate comparison.
Now he asked quietly:
“How did you come so deep into Howard Manor?”
Eliano regarded him coolly. She knew he had entered the manor discreetly through a secret passage. He chuckled:
“I came secretly. No one knew.” He winked. Eliano considered sealing off the passage—Flint already knew exactly where it was.
“The passage is for emergencies only…” she muttered. He laughed softly:
“I only know one—behind this greenhouse. Flitter knows too.”
Flitter? It was John’s nickname for him once—a soft childish name that didn’t seem to fit the duke. She widened her eyes.
“I couldn’t forget the taste of these peaches.” He handed one to Eliano, rosy and ripe.
She tasted it carefully. It was sweet—but surprisingly mild. He asked:
“Well? Very sweet, isn’t it?”
“Yes… sweet.” She passed the rest to Jane.
Jane asked if more peaches should be picked. Eliano said:
“Wait—give it more time. Just two for now.” The guidance conflicted with Heriath’s gentle urging to pick more. Jane hesitated, then picked a few under Eliano’s approval. The prince pointed out which were riper—light banter.
As they walked back toward the house, Heriath kept chatting in his natural, winding way. He offered his arm when Eliano allowed it.
Though he now treated her warmly—inquiring about coastal seafood, trade between Cyclamen and Zacador—Eliano stayed mostly silent.
She glanced at him and asked sharply:
“If you have something to say, say it, Crown Prince.”
He laughed, then turned serious:
“I feel deeply sorry for what happened to your sister.”
Eliano’s expression darkened.
“I hope it’s not improper to say this to a bride before her wedding, but…”
She waited. He sighed.
“Even you should know… family matters weigh on more than ceremony.”
His sadness was sincere. Eliano looked out as they entered the house—his words drifting in the warm light of early afternoon.
