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THE next day, Sara’s life as the prince’s consort began. But there was so little official work for her to do, she felt like everyone just wanted her to stay quiet and out of the way, like a hostage.
I read the letters from His Majesty the King and the queen mother, and they both seemed like totally ordinary, good people, Sara pondered. She had already been dressed that morning and was sitting at her desk, resting her face in her hands, waiting for breakfast.
The letters had included a number of niceties: “Thank you for being Richard’s wife,” “The villa is both of yours now, so please make yourself at home,” and “We’ll make introductions in person at another time, and I’ll want to hear how you’re getting on.”
And far from being annoyed at her for being the princess of a defeated kingdom, they were even openly anxious about Sara’s comfort as someone who’d become the wife of a fastidious prince. They were so kind, in fact, Sara started spooking herself, wondering if everything was really as fine as it seemed.
Sara took a deep breath and stood up, staring at a white door that was firmly shut. That was the door that led to Richard’s bedroom. The lock, however, was on Richard’s side, and there was no indication the door would ever be opened.
That’s understandable, I suppose. It’s not like Prince Richard will ever spend the night with me.
Last night was their first night as a married couple, but all they did was say “good night” to each other. Even after Sara went to bed, she lay awake, listening carefully, but she fell asleep without hearing the door to Richard’s bedroom open at all.
It doesn’t seem like he’s woken up yet, either… He must be a late sleeper and a late riser.
Sara wanted to have breakfast with Richard to try to improve their relationship, but she didn’t think he would be too keen on that idea.
Eventually, a maid arrived pushing a trolley with her breakfast. The villa had several maids, but this one—Claire—had been introduced to Sara yesterday as her own personal attendant.
“Good morning, Princess Hermine,” Claire said. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“Yes, I would.”
As Sara walked over, Claire quickly set the table and began preparing her breakfast. But then, Claire took the teapot she had filled with water and softly touched the surface of the cool water with her fingers. Almost immediately, Sara could hear the soft bubbling of boiling water.
I was pretty shocked when I first saw her do that yesterday, but her ability really is amazing!
“That must come in handy, huh?” said Sara, eyes glued to the teapot.
Claire smiled at her. “Thank you. I’m glad I can use my power to assist you.”
Claire was the child of low-ranking aristocrats, and she had the ability to alter the temperature of objects simply by touching them. Her touch could immediately boil water, melt a block of ice, or reheat lukewarm soup to just the right temperature.
Sara was surprised to learn that it wasn’t particularly rare for people to be born with that specific power. And after they learned how to control it in early childhood, it proved to be quite useful in their future careers.
Just the night before, Claire had adjusted the bathwater until it was a comfortable temperature and even warmed up Sara’s covers so she wouldn’t be cold when she crawled into bed. It might just be the perfect ability for an aristocratic daughter who wanted to work as a maid in the royal castle to have.
“I thought abilities would be much more terrifying,” muttered Sara, “but I guess they’re not so scary.”
Claire remained quiet for a few moments as she laid out the cutlery. She hesitated before speaking.
“It’s complicated… I just happened to have been born with a power that could be useful in normal, everyday life. But as you are probably aware, there are others who are born with powers related to combat. Those people are trained in special schools and then join the kingdom’s armed forces. And it’s not just men—women can also join the army and fight to protect the kingdom in times of crisis, if they want to.”
Sara blinked in surprise at the usually quiet Claire’s speech.
She has a point… Saleilles had overwhelmingly more troops during the war, but they still lost to the mutants…
Sara was silent, realizing she had spoken thoughtlessly, but Claire gasped and turned pale.
“I-I’m so sorry, Princess Hermine! I didn’t mean to frighten you…”
“Not at all! It’s fine. I need to learn about all of this, and I’m sure people with abilities have their own way of thinking about it, so that was a valuable reminder. Thank you, Claire.”
“I don’t deserve such kind words…”
The maid still looked a little sad, so Sara put on a big smile and tried to distract her by saying, “Well, why don’t we get on with breakfast?”
Sara ate as Claire explained each dish to her. By the time Sara was nearly done, she heard voices coming from the next room.
“Is His Highness awake?” Sara wondered aloud.
“It sounds like it. He was up doing official business until very late last night.”
“Does he always go to bed and get up so late?” Sara asked, dabbing the area around her mouth with her napkin. Claire grinned apologetically and nodded.
“Yes, usually. His Majesty the King drafts the documents during the day, and the prince reads them at night. They are returned to His Majesty by the next morning, so it seems to be a rather efficient system. His Highness also hates being around people, so he can go out for walks at nighttime more comfortably.”
“I see…”
So it wasn’t that he was nocturnal, exactly—his daytime schedule was just delayed compared with Sara’s (and the rest of the world’s).
In that case, it would probably be hard to have meals together…
Just in case, Sara decided to ask Claire if that was possible, but sure enough, Claire’s eyebrows furrowed together.
“That would likely be difficult… His Highness has always preferred taking meals alone. I mean, it would be impossible for him to eat with his mask on, right?”
“Now that you mention it, that’s true…”
Sara had heard that Richard always wore his mask. From the portrait of his real face, which was still in Sara’s bedroom, she could see that, beyond his sullen expression, he was quite a handsome man. But seeing his face in person was not so easy, it seemed.
Sara slumped her shoulders and leaned back in her chair.
“I assumed we would have some brief interaction in our daily lives, but even that is proving a challenge.”
“Wow… You really want to get closer to His Highness?” asked Claire, clearing the tableware with a slightly surprised look on her face.
Sara tilted her head and gazed at her.
“Is that so strange?”
“No… But you must have spoken to His Highness already, and yet you still want to talk to him… That just surprised me, is all.”
Probably a reasonable reaction.
Richard had told Sara not to get in his way and not to expect anything from him. That was as good as a warning that Sara would largely be treated as a hostage princess, so she shouldn’t hope that they would ever become a happily married couple.
But I still want to interact with him, no matter how short the interactions are… Even if we’ll never love each other, I want us to at least be like friendly neighbors. And I want to find even a modicum of happiness in this kingdom—with His Highness, if at all possible…
Sara couldn’t force him to do anything, and she didn’t want to.
But if the obstinate prince could at least see her for a little bit—if he could just let her get closer to him—then Sara would feel that casting away Saleilles and coming to this kingdom was all worth it.