Their tea party was held indoors rather than in a garden. Fortunately, they were seated beside a large window. Bright rays of sunlight poured over them. If she gazed out, there was plenty of vivid greenery to please the eye.
“My deepest gratitude to you, Your Highness, for taking the time to meet with me today,” Claudia said as she performed the perfect curtsy. She didn’t settle on the sofa until the prince offered his permission.
There was a desk firmly positioned between them. On the other side, hovering just behind the prince, was a redheaded boy.
It’s Tristan, the knight captain’s son.
Claudia remembered seeing him on the day she was condemned to a nunnery. He bluntly chastised her for her actions too. She knew, in retrospect, that she completely deserved everyone’s anger, so she held no grudge against him. Although she’d been tricked into committing much of what she’d done, there was no denying the maliciousness behind her actions.
She was the same age as both the crown prince and Tristan, so they looked more boyish than when she’d last seen them. It’s the same as when I saw my elder brother. Maybe it’s because I’m mentally older, but they just look so adorable!
Judging by how Tristan stood directly behind the prince, he was present as His Highness’s personal bodyguard. It was a strange choice, since Tristan was still an inexperienced knight. On the other hand, the very occurrence of this whole tea party was pretty odd in Claudia’s book. All she could do was pray that the reason he’d brought his bodyguard wasn’t because he hated the idea of being alone in a room with her.
“As a symbol of our budding friendship, might I offer a small token?” Claudia asked, holding up a small bundle.
Tristan strode forward to receive it. He was still undergoing training to become a full-fledged knight, but he conducted himself with surprisingly perfect decorum as he accepted the bundle. His eyes briefly landed on her bandaged fingers, which Claudia knew because she’d watched his gaze closely.
When His Highness took the bundle from Tristan, he tilted his head to the side. His silver hair, cut short at his ears, shifted with the motion.
Ugh, he’s so adorable! I might mistake him for a porcelain doll if he sits perfectly still and keeps his mouth shut.
His long lashes seemed to shimmer as though moistened by morning dew, framing glittering golden eyes that were emblematic of Harland’s royal family. The prince also had a slender, regal nose and thin lips. With skin like alabaster, he was breathtakingly beautiful—agonizingly so, in Claudia’s eyes.
“Mind if I open it now?” he said.
“Please, be my guest. Though, I will warn you that it’s nothing special.” Claudia forced a smile, inwardly berating herself for nearly being bewitched by his looks.
Nestled inside the bundle was a handkerchief embroidered with the emblem of the royal house—Claudia’s handiwork.
“Huh, so the rumors are true. You’re talented at embroidery.” The prince lifted the handkerchief up and handed it to Tristan so he could inspect it as well. She assumed that he’d given her gift a passing grade.
“Rumors, you say?” Claudia furrowed her brows.
“You also sent a handkerchief to your father, the duke, didn’t you? Even I’ve heard how incredible your needlework is.”
It was true; she had given handkerchiefs to both her father and Virgil. There was no opportunity for her to hand it directly to the duke, however, so she’d enlisted a butler to deliver it to his office. She never dreamed rumors were circulating about it.
Fermina is also adept at embroidery, so I was certain he wouldn’t even bat an eyelash at my work.
But the existence of rumors indicated her father had not only opened her package, but shown off the handkerchief to other people.
Claudia nodded inwardly to herself. Of course. That makes sense. He wouldn’t be able to show off his illegitimate daughter’s embroidery, after all.
Claudia’s legitimacy had allowed him to freely brag. She was grateful now that she’d spent so much time practicing her needlework at the brothel.
“H-how embarrassing,” she stammered. “What I sent my father had some rough patches on it, I’m afraid.”
“This is a lovely gift. I assume those wounds on your hands are from your needlework?” The prince’s gaze was focused on her bandages.
Claudia quickly hid her hands from view. This was precisely why she asked her maid to rebandage her hands before she left the estate. I hope this gives him the impression that I’m delicate but determined.
It wasn’t entirely a sham; Claudia was still unaccustomed to her much younger body, so she’d pricked her fingers numerous times throughout the process. But she wouldn’t deny that she’d exaggerated the amount of bandages necessary for her wounds.
“Yes, I’m afraid I’m not quite used to embroidering yet. I apologize that you saw something so unsightly.” She lowered her gaze.
“How could it be unsightly when it’s proof of your dedication? It’s incredible you were able to accomplish this.”
Tristan nodded solemnly. He had a strong sense of righteousness, and even he was acknowledging her efforts.
“It’s heartening to hear you say that, Your Highness,” said Claudia.
“This is a perfect opportunity, actually. You may call me Sylvester. I’ll likewise refer to you simply as Claudia.”
“Thank you, that is a great honor.”
The tea party was proceeding smoothly. Claudia assumed things were headed in a positive direction since he’d permitted her to refer to him by his first name rather than his title. Still, there was something unsettlingly cold about Sylvester’s responses.
The hands she hid from his view grew damp with sweat. I can’t read his emotions at all. From the moment the tea party commenced, his expression had been frozen in a warm smile. It really did give the impression that she was communicating with a porcelain doll.
Is it just that I’m used to my elder brother being too transparent? No, that can’t be it. I can read Tristan’s emotions as well.
Tristan was trying to maintain a convincing poker face, but when he admired her embroidery, he looked genuinely impressed.
No, it wasn’t a failing on her part—Sylvester was the abnormal one.
Are all the members of the royal family like this? That’s a terrifying thought. Claudia had completely forgotten that she was much the same, having trained herself to only display the emotions she wanted others to see.
Claudia suddenly felt as though she was pitted against an enemy the likes of which she’d never faced before. At this rate, she was going to lose confidence in her ability to stick with this whole potential bride business. If he was going to be this utterly unreadable, she had half a mind to say Fermina could have him. But then…
“You could speak more openly with me.” Sylvester shot her a mischievous look, eyes narrowed. It was the first sign of emotion she had seen from him.
Is he testing me? She got the impression he was scrutinizing her.
His golden eyes seemed to twinkle in the light, but perhaps that was just a figment of her imagination. Still, the instincts she’d cultivated at the brothel were never wrong. So, the correct answer to this must be…
“My apologies, Your Highness,” she said with a sheepish smile. Her response was subdued. Bland. But now wasn’t the time to be bold. Her father had assured her all would be fine provided she didn’t do anything too careless.
“You’re very reserved, I see.”
His voice sounds so gentle, but my heart is thundering. I wonder why that is. It wasn’t the sort of racing pulse a young maiden dreamed of experiencing with a handsome young man. Claudia felt more like a lamb locked in a wolf’s gaze. She maintained a calm facade, but underneath it, her stomach was twisting in knots.
Ah, I know exactly what this is.
They were both wearing masks, each trying to deceive the other. It was only fortunate that their conversation thus far had lacked barbs from either side.