Surely he does not wish for a hairpin of his own, as Heilliese does.
“Just my wretched luck,” he cursed. “To think my greatest rival in love would end up being Lady Rozemyne...”
“Lady Rozemyne?” I asked. “Do you mean to say that you have feelings for Lord Ferdinand?”
“Is that some kind of cruel joke?! I find it anything but amusing! I am a candidate for your hand, Lady Hannelore!”
Seeing the tears in his eyes, I apologized without a second thought. But how else was I meant to interpret his apparent rivalry with Lady Rozemyne?
“You expressed your envy of Lady Eineliebe’s hairpin before, so I planned to have one delivered through Lord Lestilaut once our engagement was settled,” Rasantark explained, his voice almost a shout. “And yet... Lady Rozemyne’s personal hairpin craftswoman has made you maximal-quality hairpins to your exact specifications! How can I ever hope to compete?!”
The expression “my mind went blank” was surely invented to describe situations such as this. Rasantark’s words inspired a strange sensation within me, as though all the blood in my body had reversed its direction. It rushed to my face, and a loud thumping rang in my ears.
“Um, if you would allow me to ask... Is that to say I am the one you have feelings for, Rasantark?”
He stared at me, wide-eyed. Kenntrips looked just as taken aback.
“Is that really a surprise?!” Rasantark exclaimed at last. “As a candidate for your hand and one in the process of courting you, I thought it went without saying that you are the sole object of my affection. I have made it very clear that I wish to protect you, fight alongside you, and so on!”
I paused, trying to think of any times he had conveyed his feelings for me. None came to mind.
“I recall you declaring that you wished to marry me so you could play ditter with Alexandria,” I said, rendered uncomfortable by my suitors’ pointed stares. “That is to say... I thought you cared more for ditter than for me.”
Rasantark clapped a hand to his head, stunned silent by the fact that his meaning had been lost on me.
“Lady Rozemyne invested eighteen large golds without batting an eye when the matter of translating Dunkelfelger’s history arose,” Cordula weighed in. “Few men will have the budget to compete with such lavish hairpins. Still, as they are from Aub Alexandria, and you have promised to match, I would advise that you continue wearing them.”
Rasantark clutched at his chest and grunted. As always, when the rest of us were dancing around an uncomfortable truth, Cordula showed no mercy in taking us to task.
“E-Erm, Cordula...” I said, “this was not my intention.”
“Face the facts, milady—this is the consequence of your thoughtless acceptance of a new hairpin when the knights were entranced with true ditter.” It seemed that I was being scolded as well as Rasantark.
“But I had no engagement candidates at the time, and would it not have been improper to refuse a gift? I never thought things would escalate as they have.”
I had wanted a new hairpin, and the celebration in Ehrenfest had seemed a wondrous time to speak with Lady Rozemyne and decide which colors and flowers would suit me best. Never had my intention been to wound the hearts of the men chosen to court me.
Rasantark was the picture of melancholy. I no longer knew what to say to him.
“Not only did you fail to consider matters thoroughly, but your timing was also rather poor...” Cordula went on. “Or perhaps it was excellent. There can be nothing better than your hairpins for rejecting proposals from other duchies.”
“Proposals from other duchies?” Kenntrips echoed, turning so suddenly that his hair swayed. “Even though she has candidates chosen by the aub?”
“Indeed. Earlier today, Lord Ortwin of Drewanchel proposed to milady during class. She was stunned to learn that a man was taken with her. Had the two of you made your own feelings more apparent, this would not have happened. How ungraceful.”
“What?! Drewanchel proposed during class?!” Kenntrips exclaimed, repeating the words in shock.
“Does he mean to challenge us to bride-stealing ditter?!” Rasantark bellowed, his chestnut eyes gleaming. “I ACCEPT!”
“Be calm, Rasantark,” Cordula said. “It was not a formal proposal, and milady turned him down.”
“I see. Well, Lady Hannelore, Lord Ortwin is bound to yield when he sees your hairpins and comes to the natural conclusion,” Rasantark mused with a reassured sigh.
In contrast, I found my own mood growing exceptionally dark. As my head attendant had said, I had informed Lord Ortwin of my engagement candidates and dodged his proposal. Perhaps my hairpins really would stop him from pursuing me, but it seemed cruel to deceive him when he had ultimately worn his heart on his sleeve.
I suspect it will pain Lord Ortwin to see me wearing these hairpins the day after he proposed to me.
He would not let it show, but still. Thinking back to the look he had given me upon noticing his mistake, I could only imagine how much it would eat away at him.
I do not wish to hurt him. Explaining that Lady Rozemyne gave me the hairpins should prevent any further misconceptions. Although... I am surprised that I feel so compelled to act in the first place.
Kenntrips brought his eyebrows together in a frown. “Lady Hannelore, what did Lord Wilfried say of this proposal?”
“Hmm? Lord Wilfried...?”
“Did he not attempt to stop it or present himself as a suitor?”
My heart ached, and my throat became so parched that I found it hard to answer. Lord Wilfried had done nothing to interfere. At most, I could say that he, ever the gentleman, had ensured that Lord Ortwin’s behavior would not harm my reputation. Did I truly need to report that he did not even consider me someone he might wish to propose to?
“He did nothing of note...” I said at length. “Lord Ortwin used a sound-blocker, and we were in the middle of class.”
“I see.”
Our bride-stealing ditter match with Ehrenfest was a thing of the past. I wished my peers would understand that and stop bringing up Lord Wilfried at every opportunity.