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AS the king and Richard were speaking in hushed voices to each other, Sara was resting in the next room with a cup of tea made by one of the castle’s maids.
“It’s delicious,” Sara said to herself.
The maid had only stayed to prepare the tea and then quietly left afterward. Even Daniel had told her, “I’ll be waiting out in the hallway.” So Sara was left all alone in the small reception room.
She thought of the room as “small” because it wasn’t quite as large as the room she’d spoken to the king in, but she felt quite at ease. The ornaments that decorated the shelves, the paintings depicting fruits, the chandelier with so many flickering flames it looked like it was wrapped in countless stars… All the room’s furnishings were to her liking, so she felt very comfortable there.
All things considered, the king may have been a little different from what I thought he would be, but he and Richard seem to be very close, so I’m glad they got the chance to see each other.
Sara had been at a loss for words when he had questioned her so directly and bluntly, but as the king, he had every right to be wary of her. Above all else, however, was the fact that Richard had immediately spoken up for her, irritated on Sara’s behalf, which had made her indescribably happy.
The memory of Richard growling “stop tormenting my wife” in a low voice was playing on repeat in Sara’s head. Her cheeks suddenly flashed red-hot.
He never called Sara by name. He always addressed her directly as “you,” and to other people as “my wife.”
Sara had never objected. Richard probably had his own reasons why, and to be honest, she was grateful for it.
If he called me “Hermine,” I would feel like the body double I really am… But when he says “you,” it seems like he’s just addressing me…
She knew the pleasure she derived from this was probably foolish and childish. But she really liked the way he sounded and how he looked at her when he said “you.”
Sara was absentmindedly thinking about Richard in his formal clothes when the windows rattled a bit from the wind, snapping her back to reality.
What on earth am I daydreaming for?! I’m a fake princess in a political marriage with a prince—this is no time to start getting the wrong idea!
If (and that was a big “if”) Richard did start liking Sara, it didn’t change the fact that she was deceiving him. But still…if he started calling her Hermine, her heart might shatter into a million pieces.
Ugh… My head is spinning… I wonder if I can step outside…
Sara glanced out the window. Luckily, the drizzle had stopped. Despite the stubborn gray sky, it didn’t look like she had to worry about getting caught in any rain if she stepped outside.
She pushed open the glass door to the damp terrace and stepped outside, trying to avoid the steadily dripping water coming from the roof as she went.
The handrail was soaking wet. It looked like she could only stay dry standing near the glass doors.
The air after the rain was clear and smelled just like it did after weeds had been pulled—like earth and mud.
The humidity gave her skin a sheen of moisture.
But the prince said he didn’t like the humidity because it made his hair curl up.
She remembered Richard’s face when he had muttered that to her… Sara had come outside to clear her head, but she started to feel her cheeks warm up again.
I suppose the prince just makes me feel this flustered…
When Sara had dated Firmin, she had never remembered him from time to time like this—his face and words had never popped into her head. She had been with Firmin much longer than she had been married to Richard, so why was there such a difference?
As Sara absentmindedly looked down at the peaceful, wet garden, she heard a door opening from below her and then several female voices.
“Oh! The rain’s stopped.”
“Keep the door open—there’s a nice breeze coming in.”
Some young women were chatting in the room directly below her.
Now that she thought of it, Sara remembered there were several game rooms and lounges in the castle where aristocrats could mingle with one another.
As Sara stood on the terrace, the women’s voices were carried up to her on the humid breeze.
“So, what were you talking about, again?”
“The prince, the prince! The recluse of the royal villa! I’ve heard he’s in the castle as we speak, on one of his rare visits!”
Sara couldn’t believe she was hearing people gossip about Richard the moment she came outside…
She could have turned around and gone back inside the room, but unable to suppress the bubbling curiosity in her chest, she quieted her breath and strained her ears to hear the women’s conversation.
“It seems so. I heard the king ordered him to bring his wife along, too.”
“His wife… That’s the princess of Saleilles, right?”
“That’s right. I’ve never seen her myself, but the servants at the villa say she’s a lovely, charming woman. But even so, I can’t imagine being the prince’s consort… She may be from Saleilles, but I feel sorry for the poor girl.”
Sara pursed her lips in frustration (although as an eavesdropper, she didn’t have much room to judge the ladies).
She had no clue what rumors the servants from the villa were spreading, but she was more concerned that they were speaking ill of Richard than pleased that they were praising her.
No matter how much of a recluse he is, that was quite a thing to say about a prince of your own kingdom…
One of the women below seemed to share Sara’s thoughts on the matter.
“Don’t say that! His Highness has had a hard lot in life, too, you know.”
“That’s true… It all happened before we were old enough to know what was going on, but the prince’s mother was apparently quite a difficult woman.”
“I heard she found out the prince wasn’t a mutant and became weirdly obsessed with him… And if that’s true, we should save some of our pity for the prince.”
I see… So that’s how people see Richard…
Daniel had said that it was very likely Richard wasn’t a mutant, and Claire had said that Richard’s late mother had shut herself away with him.
The royal concubine had probably snapped from the shock of learning that her son, who she had hoped to become king, didn’t have an ability.
But listening any more to this would just be tasteless.
They were just rumors, after all. Sara couldn’t let them make her lose sight of the Richard she knew.
Just as she thought this, she turned and started to walk away—until one voice stopped her in her tracks.
“I wonder if the rumor’s true…that the royal concubine was so restrictive with the prince, she was punished by the Black Beast.”
“Many people think so, though they cannot say so openly… I heard the Black Beast also made an appearance at the battle against Saleilles six months ago, and that it just recently appeared in one of the suburbs and executed a wanted criminal.”
“The royal concubine’s body had been found badly injured, right? Almost like she had been attacked by an animal…”
Sara suspected the aforementioned “Black Beast” probably had something to do with the abilities she’d so frequently heard about—but if she continued listened to these women, her own judgment might become clouded.
Sara quietly walked back inside, shut the door, and went to the table. She touched the teapot—the tea inside had become totally cold.
Your Highness…
Richard… Son of a concubine. Older brother to the king. A man who likely didn’t have any special powers.
Sara couldn’t even begin to imagine what his early childhood was like.
His own mother, killed by the Black Beast after forcing Richard into confinement…
The emotions Richard had felt must have been well beyond simple anguish or sadness.
It probably wasn’t a topic Sara could easily broach.
Just as she took a steadying breath, there was a knock at the door. Daniel poked his head in and announced, “The king and the prince have finished talking. I’m sorry to interrupt you while you’re enjoying your tea, but we’ll be going home soon.”
“Okay,” Sara replied. She rose from her seat, feeling regretful that she had let the tea go cold.
She would return to the villa with Richard. She hoped her face wouldn’t give away that something was amiss.
As she left the small reception room with Daniel, the women below continued to gossip, completely unaware that Richard’s new wife had been eavesdropping on them.
“The Black Beast… Is it really an ability?”
“I have no idea. The rumor goes that it only appears at night, and then it leaves like the wind, bathed in the blood of the criminals it’s killed…”
“I’m glad it gets rid of evil people, but I hope it doesn’t come anywhere near the royal capital!”