Chapter 4: Suspicion and Confession
ONE season had passed since Sara and Richard had gotten married. The roses that had been budding at the beginning of their marriage were now in full bloom, sprinkling the villa gardens with splashes of color.
“Look, Your Highness!” cried Sara. “Birds have come here to play!”
“You’re right,” Richard replied, his tone somewhat formal.
Their hands were laced together, so when Sara rushed forward in excitement, she ended up pulling her husband along.
Sara had recently been encouraging him to go out for walks during the daytime. He was quite reluctant at first, but after her continued requests and Daniel and Claire backing her up, he eventually caved. He agreed, but only on the conditions that Sara go with him, they don’t leave the villa grounds, and he always be allowed to wear a mask.
Everyone had been shocked that the reclusive prince started to go outside (albeit begrudgingly), but they had been perhaps even more shocked that he had conceded to his wife’s request.
Some aristocrats had apparently heard a rumor of the prince’s daytime outings and had tried to gate-crash the villa, but with an uncharacteristically severe expression, Richard had ordered impenetrable security to be stationed when they were out.
As a result, the gardens and the surrounding area were practically devoid of human presence when they went for walks. At most, Sara might spot soldiers and gardeners employed at the villa, but even Richard’s chamberlain, Daniel, and Sara’s personal maid, Claire, watched them from a distance instead of accompanying them.
Richard held the parasol, so whenever Sara would dash forward, she’d slip out from under its shade. She told him she wouldn’t mind holding the parasol herself, but he refused to hand it over, insisting, “This is the husband’s job,” so she just let him do as he pleased.
“Do you see that little bird over there?” he asked.
“It’s such a pretty blue, isn’t it? I’ve only seen it a few times before… Do you know what it is, Your Highness?”
“It’s called a ciclana. It’s a tiny bird that lives in warmer climates from the end of fall until spring, but during this time of the year, it migrates north and lives around the royal capital. The people of Ferrier have known about it since olden times. It eats harmful pests and mice and is often sung about in nursery rhymes.”
“Wow…”
Richard might not have left the villa very much, but his mind was an incredible treasure trove of knowledge. He was well-informed on the subjects of economics and politics, certainly, but he also knew a lot about plants, animals, and other branches of ecology. Sara could see why the king relied on him so much.
Sara spotted another ciclana—they must have come to play in the garden in a pair. They perched side by side on the back of a slightly aged bench, chirping at each other adorably.
“Can we get closer?”
“Ciclanas are typically easygoing birds, so they should be fine if you get closer. You should try.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“…I’ll watch from here,” Richard replied, handing her the parasol.
As he was stubbornly unwilling to move any closer, Sara took the parasol and approached the bench. She watched the two birds closely as they continued to chirp happily.
They didn’t seem apprehensive of her at all. Even when she approached with the umbrella in her hand, they didn’t fly away—in fact, their beady round eyes returned her gaze. When they both tilted their heads in unison, a smile crept onto Sara’s face.
“They’re so cute… They look like a couple! Your Highness, come look! They’re so adorable!”
Richard was quiet for a few moments, but at his wife’s insistence, he reluctantly began to walk over from where he waited in the shade.
Sara really wanted him to get a good look at their adorable visitors, but—
After Richard had taken only a few steps, the ciclanas seemed to notice his presence and immediately took off into the sky.
“Oh!”
“…I figured that would happen. I’m sorry for making them fly away.”
“No, don’t worry about it. But…why did you think that would happen?”
Beforehand, he had said “they should be fine if you get closer.” It was almost as if he had known that the birds would fly away if he approached.
Richard took the parasol from her and, after some awkward silence, looked up to where the ciclanas had vanished in the sky.
“For a long time now, animals haven’t liked me very much. It’s probably because I stink, huh?”
“Stink…?”
He was probably referring to the smell that lingered after he transformed into a beast out of anger.
He hadn’t gone out at night for quite some time, however, so it seemed as though he hadn’t had any “jobs” in that department for a while. Subsequently, even Sara, who had an unusually sharp nose, couldn’t detect any of the beast odor on him. But then again, animals had a much more sensitive sense of smell than Sara did, and the ciclanas probably also had a sixth sense for detecting the presence of predators.
“I’ve frightened away birds, as well as the occasional stray dog or cat that wandered onto the villa grounds,” he explained. “They’d growl or hiss at me. Horses get scared, too, naturally. It’s like they instinctively know that I can turn into an enormous beast.”
“I see…,” Sara said, choosing an innocuous response.
She loved animals, so she would be deeply shocked if a dog or cat growled or hissed at her. They were probably just acting on instinct—trying to protect themselves against a stronger creature—but it clearly hurt Richard.
Always wanting to pet a fluffy animal, but never being able to… That would certainly have been a painful experience.
“I suppose you can’t help it if it’s how you smell. Animals have better noses than I do,” Sara said.
“I’ve been wondering about your sensitivity to smells for a while… Do people in Saleilles have better noses than we do?”
“I-I don’t think so. It’s just a skill I was born with—more like a talent, really.”
“I see… It’s an interesting talent. Much more useful than my ability.”
“You think so? At least you can fight—my talent doesn’t give me any fighting power at all.”
“You don’t need a talent like that,” he said shortly, but his tone was much gentler than before.
For centuries, there had been prejudice in Ferrier against people with an ability like Richard’s. Even in his twenties, he was still affected by the feelings and ideas his birth mother had instilled in him as a child, and Sara was keenly aware that they were not going to be so easily undone.
But the prince was moving forward, little by little. His manner of speaking and the look in his eye had become kinder, and he did accept most of Sara’s invitations or requests, despite the annoyed face she was often met with. One of these positive changes was that he spent more time with his mask off during the daytime, even in front of her.
He did say he wore his mask to keep his anger in check… Does that mean he doesn’t think he’ll get angry in front of me?
Sara melted into a grin at the thought. Richard, ever perceptive, noticed immediately.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, I was just thinking…about how fun it is to spend my days with you like this, Your Highness.”
Richard mumbled something inaudible with such a look of concentration, Sara’s face grew suddenly serious.
“What?” she asked.
Richard’s mouth snapped shut, his face steely, and then he turned away from her.
“I said…I feel the same.”
“Oh, Your Highness…!” she gushed.
“…I’m tired. Let’s head home.”
“Sure. I think Claire made some iced tea. Shall we have some together?”
“Yes, let’s have some.”
Richard quickly marched toward the house, but soon after he slowed his step so that Sara, wearing a dress, wouldn’t have to jog to match pace with him.
I hope these days can go on forever…, Sara thought, even as the thorn of truth cut deeper and deeper into her heart—the truth that she was still deceiving Richard, even now.