Episode 9. Like a Flower
The knight commander tightened security around the estate since royalty was visiting.
While checking the guards at the main gate, he spotted one of the knights arguing with an old man.
When he got closer, he realized the old man was looking for someone who supposedly worked inside the mansion.
The commander figured it was best to send him away—things were hectic with the banquet preparations—but then he caught a familiar name.
“Morant is waiting for his sister…”
“Morant?!” The knight repeated, surprised.
The commander froze, too, ears sharp.
The old man introduced himself quietly. “I’m the physician looking after Morant. I must see Sola.”
The knight snapped back, irritated. “There’s no woman named Sola here.”
The two were about to raise their voices when the commander cut in firmly.
“Let him in.”
The knight, startled, saluted quickly. The gate opened, and the old man hurried inside, bowing gratefully.
The commander’s eyes narrowed. He quietly followed.
Soon, he saw the old man and Morant slipping into the study together.
Another piece of news to report to the Duchess.
Inside, the banquet hall was buzzing.
Candles lit the long tables, musicians tuned their instruments, and servants rushed in and out with trays of food.
I had just finished checking the arrangements and returned to my room to tidy up before the banquet.
Everything was finally ready.
I only had to meet Ryan so we could enter together.
“You’re dressed like a flower tonight,” Ryan said when he came to escort me.
His compliments always came with barbs, so my heart sank.
“Trying to look good for the Prince?”
“As the hostess, I’m just doing my duty,” I said evenly.
Ryan leaned lazily against the doorframe, watching me.
“Of course. My brother, the true heir, deserves your best. Unlike me, the half-blood.”
My stomach twisted. Why did he always find fault?
“So, my wife has dressed up for my brother. Shall we go in together?”
I rose but ignored his hand. His words stung too much.
I wasn’t trying to catch the Prince’s eye.
I was grateful to the imperial knights for protecting Stroud from the barbarians, nothing more.
He knew how hard I’d worked today—hours in a suffocating gown, my hair pinned so tightly it hurt, running back and forth to make sure everything went perfectly.
My chest boiled with anger, slowing my steps.
“It was a joke. Why take it so seriously? Unless there’s something to hide?” he muttered, following me.
Just before the banquet doors, I finally snapped.
“How many times must I say it? The Prince and I are nothing like what you imagine.”
“Ryan. I’m the Duchess of Stroud. I am your wife.”
He stayed silent, expression cold as ever.
“So stop humiliating me.”
A servant peeked out nervously, asking if they should open the doors.
I nodded.
As the doors swung wide, Ryan suddenly gripped my hand tightly.
Too tightly. It hurt.
Inside, the banquet was already in full swing.
Hilbardo and his closest men had arrived, and nobles from the surrounding lands filled the seats, honored to welcome the one who would drive out the barbarians.
The hall glowed with warmth and music, but between the Duke and Duchess of Stroud, the air was icy.
The staff, used to our constant fights, thought little of it.
But Hilbardo noticed. Since entering the mansion, he had not once seen me smile.
The banquet ended past midnight.
Ryan pushed me to drink a few glasses of wine, and I sat stiff with nerves all night, afraid I’d make some mistake.
My whole body ached. Tomorrow, I’d probably wake with sore muscles.
‘So tired…’
From dawn, I’d been working—welcoming the knights, checking every detail, barely eating.
I hadn’t even had time to visit Jaive.
He was probably fast asleep now, my sweet boy.
Just picturing him resting like an angel eased my exhaustion.
I was about to wash up and sneak into his room when—
tok… tok tok.
At first, I thought I was imagining it.
But no, the sound of pebbles hitting the balcony grew louder.
Dragging my heavy body, I opened the balcony doors and found a small box tied with a string.
A letter was tucked into the knot.
I found this on the way here.
I hope you’ll like it.
No name, but the handwriting was unmistakable.
He hadn’t even tried to hide it.
I hesitated, then opened the box.
Sweet, crisp fragrance filled the cool autumn night. Red apples, ripe and shining.
I smiled despite myself.
Memories rushed back—back when I lived at Pardia’s mansion.
Hilbardo used to send me gifts like this.
Once, I even caught him struggling up to my balcony with a box, his face bright red with effort.
I laughed so hard then.
His embarrassed expression had matched the color of the apples.
Just like now.
I tapped one apple gently, imagining him climbing up to this high balcony again.
The thought tugged at my lips, unwillingly.
But I shook it off.
Things weren’t the same anymore.
I couldn’t just accept gifts through the balcony like before.
I decided I’d return the box in the morning.
Still, just as I reached for the door—
‘Maybe… just one.’
I opened the box again, picked the biggest, shiniest apple, and set it carefully on the table.
It made me smile just looking at it.
The next morning, Hilbardo returned from training.
His maid set the apple box before him.
“The Duchess returned this, Your Highness.”
He stared at it, disbelieving.
His gifts had never been refused before.
“She also sent this.”
The maid handed him my letter.
Fresh from the bath, his damp hair dripped onto his shoulders as he unfolded it.
I know it’s against etiquette to say this in a letter.
Please understand.
Official gifts are welcome, but personal ones… It’s better not to send them.
His wet hair dripped onto his thin white shirt, soaking it like his heavy heart.
“What expression did the Duchess wear when she gave you this?” he asked suddenly.
The maid thought, then answered, “No different than usual.”
“…I see. That’s all.”
Alone, he opened the box.
Six apples had become five.
He slammed the lid shut and clenched his fists.
That one missing apple—taken after long hesitation—hurt more than anything.
