While the maid flinched at the unexpected attention, I asked a question.
"What did you like about him? Was it because he was diligent?"
Of course, the male protagonist from the play earlier wasn't a villain. He was a hardworking tailor and quite wise too.
But the maid shook her head.
"I really liked how he was always by the heroine's side! Like waiting for her with an umbrella after work on a stormy day…"
"Oh, right. That made him seem so thoughtful. The scene where he helped serve customers on a busy day without trying to take any credit was really memorable."
"Exactly! Men who quietly help out when needed are so rare! I like men like that."
Her eyes sparkled.
At that moment, Tristan cut in.
"But our protagonist wasn't entirely a saint, was he? Didn't he dig into the handsome stranger's background out of jealousy?"
"Well… honestly, I-I liked that part too."
"…"
Tristan's hand, holding his teacup, trembled slightly, as if he hadn't expected that response.
But the eighteen-year-old maid, unable to hide the excitement in her heart over the fictional man, fully revealed her feelings.
"Don't you think it's nice when someone who's always kind and humble can't quite hide their jealousy?"
"…I wouldn't know. Isn't it better to remain consistently kind?"
"Characters like that don't tend to be popular in fiction."
I nodded in agreement. The fate of kind, brown-haired supporting male characters is usually like that. At least in matters of romance, they need jealousy or a tragic backstory to stand a chance at survival.
The maid added, "Well, in real life, men who are just diligent and kind are probably already married or taken anyway…"
"Probably. Diligence and kindness are universally valued and yet hard to find."
"Haah… Do you think Mr. Rick Rey is kind to his partner?"
"Huh?"
A name I hadn't expected suddenly popped up.
First of all, that guy isn't even kind to just one person—he's more selective than that.
And there's another issue.
"He stood by and did nothing when you were in trouble! Isn't that the opposite of kindness?"
"That's true… Honestly, I thought he was kind of cool, but that ruined it for me."
"You made the right call."
"But if someone like him offered to kindly walk me home… I think I'd fall for it anyway."
"Are you sure you've really moved on?"
While the maid passionately discussed her preferences, Tristan, who had been silently sipping his tea, let out a deep sigh.
"So, this was supposed to be a discussion about the play, but I seem to have misunderstood the situation."
"S-sorry! My apologies!"
The maid, face bright red, hurriedly bowed her head in embarrassment.
Tristan, as if you weren't the one suggesting ridiculous ideas like killing off the male protagonist, your comments weren't exactly productive either.
Anyway, I decided to steer the conversation back on track.
"I'll wrap up my thoughts on the play today. What I found most valuable was the direction that relied on the actors' performances…"
Tristan, showing how attentively he'd watched the play, eagerly added his own commentary to my points. The maid, likely too aware of her earlier embarrassing remarks, remained mostly quiet.
My teacup was the first to empty after all the discussion.
As I poured my second cup, a waitress served cake at a nearby table. It was a chocolate cream cake. The cream looked incredibly soft. Just one bite with tea would be…
"Waitress. Three slices of cake for this table."
There wasn't even time to stop him. Tristan ordered the cake, the maid looked flustered, and soon, three slices of cake were placed in front of us.
The chocolate cream, soft and glossy, glistened invitingly.
It looked delicious.
"Well, I couldn't possibly refuse His Highness's generosity. I'll gratefully enjoy it."
I picked up my fork.
I hadn't expected much, considering this was just a random shop near the theater. But as long as palm oil wasn't involved, and the chocolate actually contained sugar, chocolate cake in this world always delivered a faithful flavor.
Ah… It's so good.
After moving my fork exactly three times, I hesitated briefly before picking it up again. At that moment, the maid tugged at my sleeve.
"You've had enough, my lady."
"…But isn't it fine if I just eat the cream?"
"No, absolutely not. What if Lady Natalie finds out and scolds you? Besides, if you keep eating, you might break out with pimples tomorrow, and then you'll be caught."
"…Alright."
The diet was still ongoing. With a heavy heart, I put the fork down and gave the maid a nod, signaling that she could eat without worry. It's enough for me alone to endure this suffering.
As for Tristan, whether I ate or not, he'd eat his own share regardless…
Or so I thought.
To my surprise, he was frozen in place, holding his plate as if he were about to hand it over to me.
"Dorys Redfield. What do you mean by that? Is Natalie restricting your meals?"
"Oh, it's nothing bad! There are circumstances. She's doing it for my sake!"
The diet was, after all, indirectly your fault.
Honestly, I wanted to ask outright: are you sulking because I never wore the dress you gifted me?
I appreciated the gesture of offering me the cake, but this wasn't the behavior of a fiancé. It was more like a grandmother fussing over her grandchild.
Tristan seemed lost in thought for a moment but didn't press further about the "circumstances".
"…Understood."
He took a bite of the cake he had initially planned to give me. His expression contorted slightly, as though he had tasted ginseng candy for the first time, but he didn't leave a crumb behind.
Thus, my final theater visit came to an end.
While the maid went to call for the carriage, I exchanged parting words with Tristan.
"Thank you for your company, Your Highness. Thanks to you, I had a much more enjoyable time than usual. Above all, I'm grateful for the insight you've shared with me, as someone with limited knowledge of the arts."
This should suffice as polite.
Granted, it was dripping with insincerity, but I had zero desire to put on a show of friendliness.
You can take this as enough to soothe your conscience over how poorly you treated me during your hospital visit and leave.
Unexpectedly, however, he said nothing until I finished speaking and raised my head. And, to my surprise, he wasn't feigning indifference either.
He simply stood there, looking at me, his hand clenching and unclenching nervously as though he were anxious.
"Your Highness?"
"Dorys. Let me ask you something."
He spoke cautiously, his voice unusually serious—like the day of the hunting competition when he faced the monster.
"Is there someone in your life causing you distress? Someone whose actions trouble you so much that you can't even confide in others because it would tarnish your reputation, leaving you to suffer alone?"
Wow. What a perfect self-introduction.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Your Highness."
"I've wanted to say this for a while. If there ever comes a time when you face a problem too great to handle on your own, please remember that I am here to help."
"…"
He's technically not wrong.
After all, Tristan—the greatest source of my life's stress—can only be dealt with by Tristan himself.
I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
But then… Tristan's nervous hand, clenching and unclenching, and the tone of his voice…
"I'm not good at protecting or helping others, to be honest."
The sentence felt utterly out of place for the arrogant Tristan I knew.
And yet, it robbed me of my amusement and held my gaze on him.
His voice grew firmer.
"But I've stood before monsters, even without experience, and I held my ground in the end."
"…"
"I may not have the answers to solve your struggles now, but I believe I have the strength to protect you."
"Your Highness…"
Even as he admitted his shortcomings, his unwavering blue eyes were fixed entirely on me.
My mind questioned, 'Is this really the Tristan I know?'
And my heart promptly answered.
'Yes. Though surprising, I've definitely seen this side of Tristan before.'
When he forced me into the infirmary while I was injured, or when he stood before the monster… I had no doubt that he gave his all in those moments.
My heart pounded.
Embarrassingly enough, the heat starting in my chest seemed to creep up to my face.
Could it be…? Could it really be that I'm… falling for Tristan…?
Before I could reach that horrifying conclusion, Tristan spoke again.
"So, if your sister is the source of your distress… please allow me to help you."
At that moment, my heart gave up entirely. It seemed to sigh, 'Why did I even bother beating for this?'
Thank you, Your Highness, for the clarity.
That's absolutely not what this is about!
I responded firmly.