Side Story:
Laurence — Colette (Nine Years Old) Gets Locked Up
“WHAT? COLETTE was locked away in the royal castle dungeon?!”
I grabbed the chamberlain by the collar after he reported to me.
“A-ack, Y-Your Highness, please, I can’t breathe! If you don’t loosen your grip, I’ll be summoned to the pearly gates with my report left unfinished…”
I doubted at first that the grip of a twelve-year-old could truly choke him out, but reconsidered as the lanky man flailed in my grasp. I hurriedly loosen my hold but continued to press him. “There! Now tell me what happened. Why was Colette thrown into the dungeon?!”
“Well, you see…” he began.
I paled as he explained. After he was done, I dashed to the dungeon while shouting, “Coleeeeette!” with the chamberlain trailing behind me.
Just the other day, Colette proudly treated me to food she made herself. It was rather…unique, the kind of dish I’ve never seen here in the royal castle. She used monster meat but forgot to remove the poison, which made serving it to royalty a bit of an issue. I knew she meant no harm, so I quietly hid the indiscretion. I assumed that was the end of it, but Colette, apparently guilty over going unpunished, placed herself in the dungeon. Confused, I rushed to the dank underground cells.
Surely no duke’s daughter would willingly put herself in such a dire place, I thought. But all the blood drained from my face when I glimpsed Colette through the bars of a cell. She sat atop a bed carved from stone with nothing but some straw for padding, head hanging listlessly.
“Colette, what are you doing?!”
The knight guarding the dungeon startled and straightened when he noticed me. I didn’t so much as glance his direction, going right for the cell, grabbing the bars, and getting as close to Colette as I could.
“Let’s go! I’m getting you out of here!”
Colette didn’t lift her head to look at me, instead burying it in the straw. Through tears, she said, “N-no! I’ve done something awful to you, Master Laurence, and I must be punished!”
“I see. But you realize you’re the daughter of a duke, right? If we locked you away in a dungeon, it would have to be a dungeon fit for a noble—one with the proper furnishings and such. If you stay here on that paltry bed of straw, we’ll have to punish whoever brought you here as well.”
“Huh?!” She jerked her head up, her naivete on full display and rather adorable.
If she really wanted to insist on staying in this cold and uncomfortable cell, I couldn’t stop her, but she was too kind to do that at the cost of someone else getting punished, which was exactly how she ended up here in the first place. The moment she placed herself in this cell, it was checkmate.
From what the chamberlain said earlier, a knight who knew me and her very well had brought Colette here. He of course knew of Colette’s naivete, so when she insisted on going to the dungeon, the knight brought her to the one for regular prisoners, confident I would arrive eventually to try to convince Colette to leave the cell.
Just as planned, Colette paled at the thought of the knight suffering because of her. She left the cell without further protest.
“I-I’m the one who kept insisting on being thrown in the dungeon,” she said. “It’s not the knight’s fault!”
“I know, I know,” I said as I led her to a warmer room. I wrapped her in a blanket and made her sit on a sofa, then brought her something warm to drink.
She dissolved into tears, water dripping down her cheeks. “I-I’m sorry, Master Laurence. I know apologizing again and again doesn’t mean anything. I should be punished, all the more so because you’re the crown prince.”
Regret twisted her face as it dug into her.
“Look, I’ve told you before, but I knew you might’ve forgotten to remove the poison the moment you showed me that meat. I ate it anyway because that was what I wanted to do. So if anyone is at fault here, it’s me.”
“Huh? B-but…” She furrowed her brows at me like she couldn’t figure out if I was joking, comforting her, or merely stating the facts. Of course, it was all three of those things at once, but this adorable open book of a girl couldn’t keep any of her feelings off her face. She could be stubborn at times, and she was certainly naive. Trying to persuade her wasn’t too hard.
Sure enough, she came around after about ten seconds of thinking. Though her shoulders still slouched, she swore she wouldn’t try to punish herself any further.
When it came time for her to return, she murmured, “…I wish I could be a saint. Then I could help you whenever you’re in trouble.”
“Is that right? I’ve never heard of anyone wanting to become a saint for somebody else’s sake,” I replied. Most people wanted to become one for their own sake.
A brilliant smile lit up her face, and it made me think of how wonderful the future could be if she got to live out this ambition of hers.
“…But that would be nice, indeed,” I said. “I’ll pray from the bottom of my heart that you turn out to be a saint.”
That way, I can make you my queen.
There’s no knowing which of us wished for it more, but by next year, when they tested her, Colette ended up being a saint. Our shared wish had been granted.
Which meant there was something I absolutely had to do.
I dropped to one knee and proposed on the spot to the only girl in the world who could make me knowingly want to eat poison.