TEWRIT 91

Chapter 91 

Flint asked the Cyclamen couple to fetch Prince Pablesica, and they hurried back to their domain. Eliano walked to the estate greenhouse, admiring the ripe peaches grown there.

Inside, she froze—regaining composure only when she realized the golden-haired figure before her was not a threat. Prince Heriath, smiling, called to her, removing the formality:

“No need for titles anymore—you’re my friend, Ria.”

She bowed respectfully:

“Grand Duchess of Howard greets the Crown Prince.”

Yet Heriath insisted on ease, though Eliano gently insisted on keeping propriety—especially as the wife of the Duke’s commander. He smiled knowingly: they had once been childhood friends.

He pointed out her pink hair, recalling the time she had shown it to him in secret. Since then he always remembered her as delicate, like rose quartz.

They strolled back toward the manor, chatting about peaches, hidden passageways, and trade links between Cyclamen and Zacador. Eliano stayed mostly silent, finally turning to say:

“If you have something to say, say it, Crown Prince.”

He paused, then conveyed heartfelt concern over Eliano’s sister Isabella’s death. Eliano’s face grew somber.

After tea, he spoke:

“I regret deeply the tragedy that struck your family. You deserve to know the truth as kin.”

Eliano appreciated his sincerity.

Moments later, Flint appeared, gently taking Eliano’s hand and kissing its back:

“Enjoying the sun? Let’s walk together tomorrow, then tea outdoors.”

He asked about her dessert preferences for the pastry chef.

Heriath grumbled, noticing Flint’s focus on her:

“Here I am, escorting the Grand Duchess—and you don’t even acknowledge me.”

Flint replied humorously:

“Come in—why are you just standing there?”

Heriath teased:

“Is this a honeymoon? You show up for the wedding, but vanish after?”

Eliano offered formal gratitude:

“Your presence honors Howard’s most sacred union.”

They moved inside, and suddenly a young lady vaulted into Heriath’s arms, exclaiming, “I missed you!” Eliano felt the fast rhythm of the moment before Flint pulled her back protectively.

“Elisa Fillin, companion of House Pailin,” Flint introduced.

Eliana recognized the name—Elisa was the adopted daughter of Count Pailin living quietly in the annexe. But her speech revealed a subtle Zacador accent, unusual in the North.

Eliano noted it with a subtle interest—only someone who’d lived often in Zacador would speak that way.

Heriath reprimanded Elisa gently for not greeting Eliano yet. Elisa protested that Flint had said greetings would occur on the wedding day. Eliano soothed the situation, telling Elisa:

“You are young and learning customs—it’s fine.”

Heriath added:

“At nineteen, you’re not that young—know your manners.”

Eliano softly chimed in:

“Nineteen or not, her intent wasn’t wrong.”

She then gestured for Heriath to come inside. He followed politely, with Eliza trailing behind while wiping her eyes, clearly contrite.

Later, Flint escorted Eliano back to her rooms. Heriath stayed to speak privately with Flint in the adjacent retreat.

Eliana headed to her room, while Flint joined him soon after. She had faintly heard them exchange:

“Why are you so attentive to the Duchess? I know you don’t love her.”

Flint paused, then answered:

“She came north with nothing—just me. As the estate’s mistress, I must show care so others follow.”

Heriath laughed.

“I never thought you had such tenderness. Should’ve scolded Eliza yourself.”

Flint quietly replied that Eliana was generous and seeing no need.

Heriath teased further:

“You’re so bad at lies—I guess you really don’t love her, huh?”

Flint spun around, but Heriath blocked him. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small locket. When Flint saw it, his eyes widened—

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