One bite, then another.
The crisp texture of the almond was surprisingly satisfying.
Before Rick knew it, the entire florentine had disappeared into his stomach.
'…I guess I'll just call it an appetizer.'
Still, perhaps thanks to the sugar, the gloom that had settled over him after witnessing Maria hand Arthur a gift eased somewhat.
Though the memory of Maria trembling nervously as she extended her hand, Arthur's hand trembling even more as he accepted it, and the bright smile she gave him afterward would be etched in Rick's mind forever.
Leaning back against the bench, Rick let out a deep sigh.
'I already knew, didn't I? That Maria likes someone else…'
He had long been aware of her unforgettable first love and that she had reunited with him in this city.
Their mutual affection seemed evident, so it was something to genuinely celebrate. Truly.
And yet…
'Why am I… even here in this city?'
The only reason Rick had insisted on following Maria as her guard was for her sake.
Until the day he came of age, Rick Rey had never trusted people.
It was only natural. He was born of dirty desires and irresponsibility, and he grew up nourished by conflict and contempt.
He had resigned himself to living in a world that was like a bottomless swamp when he encountered a woman as pure as a lotus flower.
That woman was Maria Meyer.
Despite the discrimination she faced from her uncle, she remained steadfast, even inspiring the servants who subtly belittled her.
Rick pretended to be a diligent worker to get closer to her. It wasn't the kind of relationship where they could bare their hearts to one another, but that was fine. Maria deserved to live happily without ever having to witness filth.
Then Maria's decision to move to the capital was finalized.
Securing a position as her escort, Rick spent that night wrestling with his own tangled emotions.
He could do anything for Maria.
…Or rather, if he didn't do something, these feelings would mean nothing.
'I'd just be a creep staring at a young lady from the shadows.'
So, he resolved to follow her to the capital.
A powerless beauty like Maria would be easy prey for the socialites of high society. To the men, she'd be a plaything; to the women, a source of gossip.
Anyone who dared to sully her would be dealt with quietly.
That determination had held firm.
…At least until the beginning of the season.
That spring, on the day Maria attended some botanical garden's opening event, Rick secretly trailed behind her. As expected, Maria became the target of criticism, despite having done nothing wrong.
Rick even considered spooking a nearby tethered horse to create an "accident" that would take out a few of the trash-talking nobility.
But then someone redirected the conversation.
Instead of criticizing Maria, they began betting on the outcomes of couples' relationships.
'That was Dorys Redfield.'
It wasn't exactly a wholesome diversion, but at least it was better than Maria being the sole target of their ridicule. And the way Dorys shifted the topic felt natural—something Rick could never have pulled off.
From then on, Maria became friends with Dorys, much to Rick's dismay. He couldn't even bring himself to celebrate their newfound friendship, which filled him with self-loathing.
'I prepared everything I could to protect Maria… but none of it matters.'
Rick had gone as far as joining the "Sacred Salon" to gather information on the capital, despite the hefty introduction fee.
He even found a way to participate in the hunting tournament legally, certain that such an event would attract men with ulterior motives.
Yet here he was, watching Maria adapt to life in the capital with ease, enjoying herself.
Meanwhile, Rick Rey remained incapable of truly dedicating himself to her.
If Arthur became Maria's rock, Rick's presence in her life would only diminish further.
'What am I even doing here? What's the point of me…?'
Rick stared blankly at his empty hands.
These hands, which had been ready to wield a sword to protect someone for the first time…
Now only carried the faint sweetness of sugar.
'Ha… Dorys Redfield. She's infuriating.'
Yet, perhaps it was the sugar, but somewhere deep inside, he felt a faint warmth in his stomach.
Returning to the banquet hall, Rick arrived just as the waltz began to play.
In the center of the room, the first prince and his wife were the first to dance.
They looked to be in their mid-30s, moving with precision and grace. Their expressions, however, betrayed the exhaustion of civil servants forced to attend a weekend community festival.
The mood around them, in contrast, was lively, especially among the couples.
One lady from earlier had already cozied up to a new partner.
"Shall we join the next dance?"
"Yes, of course. By the way, my lady, I read in your letter that you're not confident in your dancing skills."
"Ah, yes… You've already read it? Will I be a burden to you…?"
"Not at all. Having you lean on me would be the greatest happiness of all."
'How fresh…'
As the second piece began, couples eagerly took to the floor.
I, on the other hand, claimed a spacious seat and leisurely began my second round of snacks.
Meanwhile, my sister dominated the makeshift dance floor.
'How many songs is she going to dance to? Does she even run out of stamina?'
The most impressive part was that her partner changed with every dance.
Though she only danced with men who were unattached, I noticed people beginning to cast her judgmental glances.
Even from the seat next to me, someone whispered: "She's leaving high society after this year, isn't she? Maybe that's why she's in such a hurry."
"Hurry? She looks more like she's given up."
No. My sister just really loves dancing.
The number of men approaching her started to dwindle. Perhaps she'd finally take a break… or so I thought.
Someone suddenly stepped forward, bowed, and extended his hand toward her.
A brief gasp of shock rippled through the room, so loud it nearly drowned out the music.
Of course.
"That guy, isn't he the second prince?"
A minor character in the original story. All I remembered about him waa that he was kind of unpleasant. Oh, and one more thing: His marriage was a bit of a mess.
That wasn't explicitly described in the original story, though.
I just remembered someone shouting this on my first visit to the Sacred Salon: "Here it is! Let's talk about whether the second prince's marriage will go smoothly or not!"
It seems his engagement, which was unstable enough to be the subject of gossip, ended up being called off.
'But why is he bothering my sister, of all people, you jerk?'
He couldn't possibly not know about my sister's infamous reputation. Could he handle it? Or did he have some ulterior motive?
Faced with such an unexpected dance proposal, my sister seemed a bit flustered. She tilted her head slightly, and her crimson hair flowed over her shoulders like waves.
Her appearance, reminiscent of a mermaid, captivated the crowd's attention.
After a brief moment of hesitation, my sister—
"With pleasure, Your Highness Percival."
—accepted the dance request.
The second prince didn't seem particularly thrilled. He naturally guided my sister as if retrieving something he had left behind.
'So his name is Percival.'
I guess the royal sons, both direct and collateral, were named after the Knights of the Round Table.
Percival danced gracefully, just like his older brother. Meanwhile, my sister…
"…!"
…boldly stomped on his foot.
She whispered an apology, but her expression didn't look apologetic at all.
Come on, Percival. You can still smile for now, can't you?
My sister seemed to say something, probably trying to probe into his true intentions. But Percival merely nodded or shook his head, brushing her off with a polite smile.
And then, stomp!
Once again, my sister's foot landed on his.
The mask of politeness on Percival's face cracked. He glared at her, his expression showing slight irritation.
But if it was a contest of intimidating stares, my sister wasn't one to back down. She smiled brightly, baring her teeth like a crescent moon.
Yes, this was true madness.
Percival's gaze slowly shifted elsewhere. Oh, losing your composure already, huh?
"Whether he has a hidden agenda or not, it's not my sister I should be worrying about."
Natalie will handle it.
What was immediately in front of me now was…
'Can I marry Tristan even if the original plot deviates?'
At a glance, there didn't seem to be a problem.
Arthur and Maria seem well on their way to being officially acknowledged.
Tristan, who used to act like a complete troublemaker, has lately been taking care of me quite earnestly.
'And he doesn't even flirt with Maria anymore.'
If this atmosphere continued, things would be fine.
If I could be certain of a happy ending, then maybe… just maybe, I could open my heart a little more to Tristan.
…Maybe we could truly become an engaged couple, human to human.
As these stray thoughts filled my mind, the music was already approaching its final notes.
The last page of the sheet music was turned.
The Crown Princess shouted: "I hope everyone enjoyed the evening!"
With applause, people began dispersing one by one.
My family gathered near the exit.
Father was heavily drunk. Mother, once again, failed to claim any fox trophies from this hunting competition.
"Hic! Girls, someone… help me…"
Both my sister and I avoided his outstretched hand. Instead, one of the hosts' servants rushed to assist him back to our tent.
My sister spoke, clearly unconcerned with Father.
"Dory, I told you to dance when there's a band playing."
"I can't dance with other men when I have a fiancé, can I?"
"Then you should've dragged your fiancé here."
"His Highness was injured managing the hunting grounds. He can't dance right now."
"What does that matter? You could sit him down and dance with other men."
"Don't you think you live your life a bit too recklessly, Sister?"
"What's the big deal? Let's head back."
My sister pulled me along by the shoulder. I walked beside her for a while, but something kept nagging at me, and I stopped in my tracks.
"I'll just go check on His Highness to see if he's all right."
"How thoughtful. Send him my regards. But don't bother saying I wish him a speedy recovery; he won't believe that. Instead, tell him, 'Hurry up and recover so you can at least gift your fiancée a fox.'"
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
My sister leaned close and whispered in my ear one last time.
"If he's really in no condition to get you a hunting prize, let me know. I'll give you one of mine."
"…Thanks."
She really is impossible to figure out—kind or cruel, who can say?
My footsteps naturally led me toward the royal medical quarters.
Of course, the royal medical quarters were on the complete opposite side of the noisy banquet hall, which meant a long trek.
In the meantime, people were retreating to their tents to wrap up the day. Some tents had already gone dark, leaving the surroundings eerily quiet.
It felt a little creepy.
No one in their right mind would cause trouble in the middle of a hunting event packed with armed individuals, but…
"There was alcohol at the banquet, wasn't there?"
If I was unlucky, I might run into some drunkard looking for trouble.
Should I head back to the tent and ask a maid to accompany me?
Just as I turned around to reconsider—
"…Huh?"
I saw a familiar silhouette.
Wearing attire entirely unsuitable for this place and time.