Two days flew by since I saw the prince with Lady Irene. I sat at breakfast, a single letter in hand, and informed my father and brother of my plans for the day.
“From Prince Theodore?”
I nodded in response to my brother’s question. “I still have a dictionary I took from the archives, so I’ll go return it today.”
Just four days prior, I went to the archives to borrow said dictionary, unable to finish my book without it. I’d returned the book but accidentally took the dictionary home with me.
I wracked my brain trying to think if there were any other tomes I’d yet to return. There was also the room they’d provided for me when I was welcomed into the palace. It would be agonizing work, but I should pack my things there quickly.
While my brother was lost in thought, my father called over to me. “Oh, Eli. There’s something I’d like your input on.”
“Yes?”
My father, a man in his mid-forties with white strands peppered amongst his light brown hair, was an easygoing, carefree type of person. It was rare for him to seek my counsel for anything. Formerly he worked under Prince Theodore as an archive official (though it was really a job in name only), but since I became Prince Christopher’s betrothed, the post no longer suited our elevated status, and Father was selected to work as a cabinet minister in the Ministry of Finance. My brother’s situation was similar, his days kept busy as the prime minister’s aide. Once again I felt guilty for the responsibilities I’d forced upon my family.
“We received a letter from your grandfather not long ago, if you’ll remember. You haven’t been back in so long. What do you say? Fred and I will take a holiday, and the three of us can go back together.”
“Father,” my older brother Alfred cut in, his tone strict and reprimanding.
I tilted my head and considered the suggestion. It didn’t seem like a bad idea. My grandfather had given up his title to my father and secluded himself in our territory. And true enough, we’d received a letter from him urging my return around my eighteenth birthday.
Since the annulment of my engagement with His Highness was just a matter of time, it would be uncomfortable for me to stay here in the capital. Besides, I’d feel better if I didn’t have to see his new bride-to-be in person. Some might accuse me of just running away, but these bottled-up feelings needed somewhere to go.
“But can you both really take a holiday?” I interjected as the two engaged in some kind of verbal dispute.
There wasn’t a single instance since I’d been welcomed into the palace where the three of us had been able to return home together. When I’d peeked in at their work desks before, they’d both been covered in an artistically arranged mountain range of paperwork. One that threatened to collapse at any moment. It wasn’t hard to imagine that their current workload far surpassed what it had been when they worked in the archives. They had my respect for doing jobs completely unrelated to their previous field without gripe or complaint.
Father replied nonchalantly, “Don’t worry! In fact, I’ve already applied. Holidays are important. The number of hours a person has (to read books) is limited.”
Hm, something about that was suspicious, as if there was an underlying motive hidden in his words. The way he was beaming made his thoughts transparent; he was imagining himself surrounded by his beloved books, merrily passing his time.
Alfred sighed, exasperated.
~.~.~.~
I accompanied my father and brother to the palace, where I was left agape at the rows of pillars that made up the government offices. Normally I came here at the blessing of His Highness, using a passage that was exclusive to royalty, so I only met a limited number of people. Naturally, not many here knew who I was.
Our coach pulled up where a crowd of people were waiting, and as soon as it came to a stop, they immediately began talking to my father and brother, whisking the two off to their respective offices. By the looks of it, they were quite busy. If that was anything to go by, I wondered if they really could get permission for a holiday or not.
“...Prince Christopher did?”
My heart jumped out of my chest, unprepared for the name that came flying out from a nearby conversation. A door was left ajar, and amidst the hubbub of shuffling papers and bustling bodies filtered out the sound of a conversation.
“Nah, there’s no way, not possible.”
“No, I’m telling you! One of His Highness’s messengers was at Earl Casull’s house, they say. And you know Lady Irene’s family is a branch family to the Casull’s.”
“Seriously? So the prince is really serious about breaking off his engagement to the Bernstein’s Fairy Princess and switching over to Lady Irene instead?”
“Huh? Sir, that sounds like a load of crock. I heard those are just rumors Viscount Palcas’s people have been spreading.”
“Nah, I’ve seen it myself. It looked like the prince and Lady Irene were having a tryst.”
“Wait, the maids were talking about it too. Saying stuff like, ‘So the prince is just like every other man.’”
“There’s also been some strange rumors going around amongst the maids too. They were saying that the Fairy Princess is jealous of Lady Irene and has been doing horrible things to her and stuff.”
“Codswallop. I don’t buy that at all.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
The conversation trickled on, but I pressed past and left it behind me. Some of the words didn’t make much sense to me, but the conversation did reflect that those working in the palace were really invested in the prince’s relationship with Lady Irene, as well as myself.
I only associated with an extremely limited number of people within the palace and was unfamiliar with the gossip. Perhaps there were other people or places that knew about the prince and his relationship far before I’d ever heard about Lady Irene. It seemed I, completely lost in my books, was the only one that didn’t know. I brooded over the thought.
All I could think about was running from the problem, but at this rate even Prince Christopher’s reputation, which he’d gone to painstaking lengths to build, would be tainted. For the sake of Sauslind Kingdom’s future, this wasn’t a desirable state to be in. We would need to announce the annulment of our engagement soon if we were to break out of this current deadlock, but that wasn’t something a marquess family could request. Not unless the circumstances were extreme enough to warrant it.
As I anguished over who I might approach to consult about the issue, the door in front of me burst open.
“...Have we obtained the evidence?”
“The third patrol unit has the warehouse surrounded, but we have a report that a number of riverboats left in the early morning heading for Ulthar.”
The man’s cunning eyes turned chilly. He had an imposing air about him but maintained a polite facade. “Tell me, are the capital’s patrol units full of imbeciles? They kept watch over the warehouse on the Neville River, but didn’t keep a lookout for boats?”
“N-No! They’ve already deployed troops to the mouth of the river. Commander Glen said we’d round them all up in one go!”
“So it seems three days of no sleep or rest is enough to make even a stupid man come up with something intelligent.” The Ice Scion’s smooth features contorted in a grin so malicious he could be the devil’s henchman. Then his gaze wandered to the sacrificial lamb who’d missed her (my) opportunity to run.
“If it isn’t Lady Elianna. I’m glad to see you have so much free time. It’s thanks to you that the entire palace is drowning in work. While you’re headed to the archives, I’d like you to take this as well. On the way, deliver this letter to the Royal Household Department and tell them to resubmit their reorganization proposal and personnel catalog for the past five years by this afternoon. And also be sure to tell them, ‘Absurd ideas won’t get you anywhere.’ Can you do that?” Lord Alexei was looking even more ghoulish than usual. A closer examination of his pale blue eyes revealed they were bloodshot, and even his pale skin looked a shade of exhausted I hadn’t seen before. Had something serious happened?
While I stood there blinking, Lord Alexei forced a number of miscellaneous chores on me. His subordinate looked at me pityingly, but apparently he wasn’t chivalrous enough to offer himself up in my stead. The only reason I’d come was to return this book and clear out my private quarters, but now things had taken a strange turn. No, perhaps it was more apt to say this was things operating as usual?
At last I reached a place I recognized (in the form of the grand staircase at the heart of the palace) and laboriously began my ascent. Then suddenly—
“Eeeeek!”
I heard a cry from behind me and the sound of something tumbling. Shocked, I looked back to see a girl, who’d apparently fallen, at the base of the steps. Her soft chestnut-colored hair was splayed out over her body. What really drew my concern was how pitifully her arms and legs were spread out around her as she lay there face down.
Before I could rush down the stairs to inspect her, another cry echoed.
“Irene!” This time it was a man, one who raced to the fallen girl. “Irene! Irene, stay with me...!” The man, who so woefully screamed her name, had honey gold hair, feminine features, and a petite form that might cause some to mistake him for a boy. “Irene! Why did this have to happen to you...!”
Instead of mourning, I think you should call a doctor.