Chapter 33
‘Why isn’t he watching the play? Why is he staring at me?’
When I asked, Jereon quickly snapped his head forward, fixing his gaze on the heroine on stage.
“Ah? Oh. Right, the play.”
The awkwardness of his reaction suddenly reminded me of the note Zeke had slipped me yesterday.
His Highness kept looking at you… did something happen between you two?
I had brushed it off as coincidence at the time, but now his words came back to me with force.
The first act ended, and the second began almost immediately. In this scene, the Grand Duke of the North, ill and bedridden, found himself cared for by a common woman. The male lead spoke in monologue about the beauty of her soul. Her face isn’t exactly plain either, I thought. So in the end, looks still provide the strongest logic.
As I watched, I began to feel a prickling warmth on the side of my face.
‘No way… is he staring at me again?’
I counted silently—one, two, three—and then whipped my head toward him. Sure enough, Jereon’s eyes darted forward in feigned focus the instant I caught him.
‘Why does he keep staring? It’s so uncomfortable.’
It was impossible to concentrate on the play. I wanted to ask him outright, but with just the two of us in the audience, any conversation would echo awkwardly.
By the time the fourth act arrived and the story reached its climax, the lovers’ passion had grown uncontrollable. The Grand Duke confessed on a bridge and kissed his beloved deeply.
With a full house, such a scene would be easy to watch. But alone with the Crown Prince, it felt like we were intruding on someone else’s intimacy—like that moment in the Western Gardens.
‘The kiss scene is way longer than last year’s.’
Embarrassed by the noisy sound of lips meeting, I turned my eyes away, sneaking a glance at Jereon instead.
He was staring at the two actors kissing—seriously, intently—so much so that I almost felt sorry for the performers.
‘Is he studying because he’s never kissed before? Still, that’s way too obvious—huh?!’
Suddenly, Jereon’s gaze flicked toward me. Startled, I whipped my head to the opposite side. Yet the actors were still locked in each other’s embrace, clinging tightly. Maybe it’s just because the North is cold, I thought wryly.
Hoping he’d returned his attention to the stage, I checked again—only to find him still looking at me. This time, his chin rested on his hand, elbow propped casually against the armrest.
I froze, staring forward. Then he leaned slightly toward me and whispered.
“Shanael…”
“……?”
“Have you ever had a kiss as deep as that?”
“N-No!!!”
The words burst from me too loudly, echoing all the way to the stage. The actors, still in their embrace, glanced our way in surprise. Mortified, I jumped to my feet and bowed toward them in apology before sinking back into my seat.
I shot Jereon a glare, but he only smirked, chin still propped, eyes twinkling with amusement. As if he had kissed anyone before himself!
The play concluded with the lovers overcoming their differences in status and marrying in a triumphant happy ending. As the curtain fell, I rose to applaud with genuine joy.
One of my favorite actors, Müller, blew me a playful kiss. My heart skipped—is today my birthday?—and I quickly lifted my hand to return the gesture. But before I could send it, Jereon stepped forward, blocking my view from the balcony rail.
“If you’re done watching, let’s leave.”
“……”
Disappointed I couldn’t send the kiss back, I couldn’t bring myself to resent him. After all, thanks to him, I’d had a private performance and even received Müller’s attention.
Outside, the imperial carriage awaited. When the driver opened the door, Jereon stepped up but paused, turning back to offer his hand.
“After you, Shanael.”
He still wore his hunter’s garb, which hardly matched such a gesture, but no one had ever escorted me into a carriage before. I hesitated, then laid my hand atop his. His palm was warm—he wasn’t wearing gloves.
Because of the bandages around his hand, he held my fingers carefully, guiding me up with gentle firmness.
‘So this is what it feels like… to be cherished.’
It was the first time since losing my parents that I felt such warmth.
Once seated, Jereon followed beside me. Hassel climbed in last, and the carriage rolled forward.
Opposite me, Hassel smiled politely.
“Did you enjoy the performance, Lady Shanael?”
“Yes, very much. I’ve never seen actors from so close before.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Then he turned to Jereon.
“Your Highness, as instructed, I retrieved two gold bars from your private treasury to pay for the performance.”
“Good.”
Two gold bars! One alone was worth over 200 gold coins. A farmer would be lucky to make even 20 gold in an entire year. I knew paying for an encore of a full production would cost a fortune, but the reality still shocked me.
‘All that money… just for me? No, he must have enjoyed himself too. Maybe I should only feel half guilty.’
When I sneaked a look at Jereon, he wasn’t watching the passing scenery but me, a wry smile playing at his lips—as though to say, “You’re grateful, aren’t you?”
Still staring, he addressed Hassel.
“Hassel, I have a question. Suppose a courtier called me a ‘heartless bastard’ in the palace. What punishment would suit him?”
“Whoever dared such insolence deserves immediate punishment, Your Highness. To insult you within the palace—unthinkable. He would deserve flogging at the very least.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely.”
A chill spread through me. One moment he was showering me with generosity, the next, speaking of punishments.
Then his voice drew me again.
“Shanael.”
“Y-Yes, Your Highness?”
“What do you think? Should he be punished?”
“My opinion is… a little different.”
Even Hassel turned his eyes to me, intrigued. I swallowed and pleaded with all my heart.
“I think… that servant must have been at his limit to speak so. You wouldn’t know, Your Highness, how suffocating it can be to always hold back. Perhaps he endured and endured until it burst out. And he’s never once acted against you or spoken rudely before, has he? A single mistake after countless acts of loyalty—should that condemn him? If you punish every small slip, how can anyone breathe around you?
Instead, I think Your Highness should reflect. Why did a man who never spoke that way before finally call you heartless? If you show mercy this time, I’m sure he’ll be so grateful that he’ll serve even more faithfully. Forgiveness will win you greater respect than fear ever could.”
I poured it all out like a desperate final defense. But Jereon’s face didn’t soften.
“It’s always easy the first time. He’ll do it again.”
“He won’t! I mean—he won’t, Your Highness.”
“Still… he must be punished. Letting it slide doesn’t sit right with me.”
My throat tightened. Was I about to trade my chamber in the annex for a damp prison cell? If my eyes weaken from lack of sunlight, how will I even write?
The closer the carriage drew to the palace, the heavier my dread grew. He spent gold bars to show me a play… only to throw me in a dungeon after? Shouldn’t the order be reversed?
At last, the carriage crossed the drawbridge and halted at the palace gates. The door opened. Jereon glanced at my stiffened form and said coolly:
“Get out.”
I stepped down, casting Hassel a pitiful look, but he only frowned in confusion at my sudden misery.
As I lingered to exit last, Jereon extended his hand again. Terrified of defying him, I placed mine gently atop his. But instead of letting go once I was on the ground, he held tight—drawing me closer.
Then, without releasing me, he issued a command.
“I’ll take Shanael to the annex myself. The rest of you may go.”
Hassel bowed deeply and withdrew at once.
And so, hand in hand, I was led away. My heart pounded—not only at the warmth of his grip but at the uncertainty of what “punishment” awaited.
‘Why won’t he let go? And just what sort of punishment does he mean…?’
