YWPWYLFDM 47

Chapter 47

Crown Prince Winfred of the Peles Empire opened the drawer tightly locked with a key and took out his treasure.

It was none other than a portrait of Eila that he had drawn himself.

Compared to the large framed portrait he had given to Eila’s parents, it was tiny, and since it had been drawn for practice, it was only a sketch, uncolored.

Yet to him, it was priceless.

Along with the handkerchief he had placed for Eila on the rooftop in the past, it was his most cherished possession—tied for first or second place among his treasures.

As he thought of the handkerchief, which he always kept in his pocket, freshly washed and ironed, Winfred couldn’t help but smile.

Every time he saw that handkerchief, the dreamlike moments he had shared with Eila came vividly to mind.

The stars scattered across the night sky as if pouring down just above him. The gentle moonlight.

The sweet air of an early autumn night, the cool breeze.

Eila’s silvery hair that shimmered like it was dusted with gemstones, her strangely lonely smile—every sensation came flooding back.

Winfred carefully returned the precious drawing to its place in the drawer, locking it again, and then reached into his pocket.

He wanted to retrieve the handkerchief.

But—

“Huh?”

It wasn’t where it should have been.

He searched through his pockets, even checking the other one just in case, but Winfred’s precious handkerchief was nowhere to be found.

A cold chill ran down his spine.

He searched his study, thinking perhaps it had fallen nearby, but unfortunately, he couldn’t find it.

Where on earth could it have gone?

Winfred bit his nails anxiously, trying to recall his actions.

Until this morning, the handkerchief had definitely been in his hand. He clearly remembered changing clothes and putting the freshly laundered handkerchief into his pocket.

After that…

As Winfred carefully retraced his steps, a memory of the chaotic lunch earlier that day came to mind.

Today’s luncheon was with Marquis Kainis, currently serving as the Imperial Minister of Finance.

Marquis Kainis was one of the few people that Winfred, who normally didn’t care much about others, avoided.

His arrogance and slightly insolent attitude made every meeting unpleasant.

Of course, since Winfred was the crown prince of a nation, Kainis never outright insulted him.

He never crossed the line openly, but subtly enough to irritate him.

It had been the same today.

“…I’m not a child anymore.”

Winfred pouted.

Marquis Kainis had treated him like a child, testing his patience.

The level of offense was subtle enough that if Winfred showed his displeasure, he would appear overly sensitive.

He had struggled to hide his irritation throughout the meal.

The climax came after the meal. As he was leaving the dining room, he accidentally collided head-on with the marquis and fell.

As crown prince, Winfred naturally intended to go first, but the marquis wouldn’t yield, which caused the accident.

Being smaller than the adult man, Winfred inevitably fell onto his backside.

The next heir to the throne falling was, of course, a huge commotion.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!” cried the servants rushing to help him up, while the maids brushed off the dust from his clothes.

Even the marquis who caused the incident bowed in embarrassment, adding to the chaos.

It seemed unlikely that the marquis had intended to make the crown prince fall.

‘Well, Kainis being arrogant isn’t new. Let’s move past it.’

Could the handkerchief have fallen during all that commotion? It was entirely possible.

‘I need to check the dining room.’

Winfred thought anxiously, tapping on his desk.

Although he wanted to rush immediately, he still had duties to complete.

Even for something as precious as the handkerchief, he couldn’t abandon the crown prince’s responsibilities.

So Winfred worked efficiently, applying several times his normal focus.

His aides were astonished at his unusually sharp performance.

“Your Highness! Be careful, you’ll trip!”

Once his work was finished, Winfred dashed toward the dining room.

“Win… are you really that hungry?”

He drew a light-hearted comment for his hurried appearance, but at that moment, the handkerchief’s whereabouts were the priority.

Upon reaching the dining room, Winfred began scanning the floor frantically, checking the spot where he had fallen and the surrounding area.

Yet, there was no sign of the handkerchief.

“Your Highness, what are you doing?”

The chief steward, seeing him as if about to clean the floor himself, asked in bewilderment.

It didn’t seem like he was hungry, given that he ignored the tables entirely, and no one could understand why the crown prince was scrubbing the tiles with his expensive clothing.

“My handkerchief… it’s gone.”

Winfred said despondently. The steward finally understood why he was acting strangely.

“Oh… you mean the handkerchief Your Highness cherishes so much?”

The steward nodded with a relieved expression, and Winfred was slightly shocked.

He had thought he had hidden it so carefully. He hadn’t realized the steward knew about this particularly treasured handkerchief.

“How did you know?”

The steward looked slightly embarrassed at the question.

‘…He wanted to keep it a secret.’

Winfred’s emotions were transparent, but it seemed he didn’t even realize it himself.

“Is there anything about Your Highness I wouldn’t know? I serve closest to you, after all,” the steward replied smoothly, hiding his thoughts behind a gentle smile.

It was to protect the crown prince’s innocence.

“Oh, I see.”

Winfred nodded, accepting the explanation, then let his lips and eyes droop again.

“My handkerchief… where could it have gone? Did I drop it here?”

The dining room was his last hope. If it wasn’t there, he couldn’t imagine where it could have fallen.

“Let’s have dinner first, Your Highness. I’ll keep looking in the meantime,” the steward suggested, seating Winfred while promising to search further.

“Please. I have to find it. It’s really precious to me,” Winfred said in a weak voice.

Seeing his pitiful expression, the steward resolved to find the handkerchief no matter what.

Yet, despite the steward’s determination, no one claimed to have found the handkerchief during the day in the dining room.

“Still haven’t found it?”

“…I’m sorry, Your Highness,” the steward apologized, bowing his head.

Winfred looked utterly defeated, as if the world had ended.

Would he never see it again?

Losing it inside the crown prince’s own palace and not finding it—he was heartbroken. He could have pulled the blankets over his head and cried.

“I’ll keep looking,” the steward promised.

“…Okay.”

Winfred remained sullen, and the steward, feeling unnecessary guilt despite not being at fault, stepped back.

Two days passed.

Winfred remained gloomy. Losing the handkerchief with precious memories of Eila made it natural for him to be so.

He barely ate and his face had grown pale. Always wearing a melancholic expression, both the emperor and empress were extremely worried.

Even now, he poked at bite-sized pieces of steak with a fork, looking utterly uninterested.

He knew he had to eat to ease his parents’ worries, but his appetite was gone.

“Your Highness, if you don’t like the taste, shall I bring you something else?” asked the steward, concerned.

“Hmm… no, it’s fine. I’m eating. I’ll finish it. Just one more glass of juice,” Winfred replied.

He didn’t want anything else, but he shook his head, not wanting to worry his already-ailing mother.

The steward called a maid holding a jug of orange juice to fill Winfred’s glass.

Then—

The maid accidentally spilled a little juice on the table.

“Oh! I’m sorry…!”

Flustered, she tried to take a handkerchief from her apron to clean it.

At that moment—

“Ah! That handkerchief!”

Winfred screamed and snatched it up.

“My handkerchief…!”

Joy instantly washed over his face. He had thought he would never find it again, but here it was.

The maid, already embarrassed from spilling the juice, froze, her eyes wide in shock at losing the handkerchief to the crown prince.

“…It never shows up when you’re searching for it,” the steward muttered, exasperated.

Over the past two days, he had asked every servant in the crown prince’s residence if they had seen it, straining his voice.

He had no idea where this maid had come from.

He studied her face carefully.

Her plain brown hair and brown eyes, a lovely face, but shy and unassuming, hardly noticeable.

She had recently transferred to the crown prince’s palace, and he remembered that she had been on leave for the past two days.

“Her name was Binka, wasn’t it? She was on leave until yesterday.”