He had a point there, but it didn’t apply in Amelia’s case. “There’s no chance of that. I’ve only got a single servant, and he can’t fetch what we don’t have.”
“A single servant?!” he exclaimed. “And you don’t have any envelopes and paper?!”
His surprise was understandable, but it was already the norm for Amelia. “Plus, I can’t leave my residence as I please, so I can’t even head out to meet him formally.”
Luke looked at her with bewilderment. “But right now, you’re…”
“I snuck out through a hole in the wall. Keep that a secret, will you?” She doubted anyone would guess a princess was sneaking out of the royal court, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
“Okay. So you’re selling strawberry sweets to earn money. You want the money to buy envelopes and paper. In other words, are you doing all this to write letters?”
Amelia nodded before adding, “Oh, I’ve also got plans to make a formal dress.”
Luke looked thrown off. “Why’s that?”
She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know where my fiancé’s estate is. Marching up to him and confronting him directly during an evening party is the most realistic in terms of time and distance.”
“Ah, I guess… But you must have received plenty of dresses up until now.”
She tilted her head. “Received?”
“Uh, from your fiancé, I mean. He must have gifted you dresses, right?”
True, a normal fiancé would probably send such gifts. Without realizing it, a dry smile pulled at Amelia’s lips. “Never. He didn’t even send me a single reply to my letters for four entire years, you know? Presents…? That’s unthinkable,” she muttered self-deprecatingly.
For some reason, Luke froze with an astonished expression. “They wouldn’t give you food. You were locked up. The letters and present weren’t delivered to you, and you aren’t even sickly…”
She didn’t know what the “sickly” part was about, but now that he listed it out, her life was rather brutal. In contrast to Amelia, who considered it impassively as if it were someone else’s story, Luke furrowed his brows and clenched his trembling fists.
Frowning worriedly, she looked over him. “What’s wrong? You look kind of pale.”
“Amelia… Do you dislike your fiancé?” Luke asked with an imploring gaze.
Slowly, she shook her head. “Isn’t it the other way round? He’s the one who hates me.”
He fixed his earnest eyes on her. “I want to know your honest feelings.”
After taking a moment to mull it over, Amelia sighed. “Promise me you won’t laugh.”
“I won’t.” Luke nodded. He didn’t seem like he was teasing her.
Standing around while talking wasn’t the best idea, so Amelia took a seat on a wooden crate in a nearby alley. Luke settled down next to her.
“I’ve only met my fiancé once,” she began. “It was four years ago, so I don’t even remember his face now, but he had golden eyes just like you, Luke.”
The crate was tall, leaving Amelia’s legs dangling. In contrast, Luke’s shoes were firmly planted on the ground. Now that she had some perspective, she belatedly realized there was quite a difference in their heights.
Luke smiled at her, and she hurriedly averted her gaze. She continued, “To tell you the truth, I can summon strawberries with magic. He showered me with lots of praise about it, and I was overjoyed. I…like him.”
Even though she was talking about someone who wasn’t present, it was still embarrassing to admit how she felt to someone else. She stole a glance at the young man beside her. Luke’s cheeks were flushed bright red, just like hers. It appeared that listening to her was also embarrassing—she felt somewhat remorseful. That said, the sweet and fuzzy part ended there, so she hoped that he would be able to put up with it for now.
She sighed. “I know. He hasn’t been willing to see me even once in four years, nor has he replied to my letters. He’s not interested in me. I know that much.”
If it had happened once or twice, she would have accepted it with resignation, thinking that he must be busy. But when it was four whole years and multiple loops, it’d be clear as day to anyone that he had no intentions of sparing any of his time for Amelia in the first place.
“Still, there’s something I want to talk about in person,” Amelia said. “That’s why I’m selling strawberries.”
“By that, do you mean that you’re manifesting strawberries with magic, making sweets with them, and selling the end results?”
“Nope. I’m summoning strawberry desserts with magic.”
It was, of course, possible to start with strawberries and use them as ingredients. That, however, required both effort and material costs. In the Fifth Palace, where food and ingredients were meager, it was out of the question.
Luke hesitated. “I’ve never heard of such magic before. I can understand summoning fire or water, but just summoning strawberries is rare. And you can even summon finished food products, huh?”
“Only finished food products involving strawberries,” she corrected. “Strawberries are the best!”
“I have to wonder where your absolute trust in strawberries came from.”
Luke looked exasperated, but strawberries were amazing, and that was a fact. And facts are facts.
Amelia shrugged. “Anyway, I need money. And envelopes and paper, but I’m also going to make a dress. Dresses are expensive, you know? When I heard the market price for them, it gave me a good scare. Even an entire pile of strawberry daifuku wouldn’t be enough.” She spread out her arms to emphasize the “pile” part, earning a wry smile from him.
Sighing, she continued, “But I can’t attend a formal evening party in this outfit, so I need one. Not to mention…” She cut off her sentence and cast down her eyes.
Puzzled, Luke peered into her face. “Not to mention?”
“It’s been four years, you know.” Shyness welled up, and she pouted. “Of course I want him to think that I’m at least a little cute.”