Daniel must have noticed Sara’s reaction, but he purposely glossed over it.
“Well, why don’t we go say hello to His Highness?” he asked before rapping on the door to the study. “Your Highness? It’s Daniel. Her Highness Princess Hermine has arrived.”
“…Come in,” came a young man’s voice from the other side of the door.
Sara felt nerves shoot through her—the voice sounded displeased—but it was too late to stop now. Daniel opened the door. Sara took a deep, steadying breath and then walked inside.
The room was very gloomy, despite it being the middle of the day. The gray walls didn’t help this, nor did the tightly shut window curtains. It was so dim, the desk lamp had even been lit.
Behind the stately desk was a man sitting in a leather chair, writing something. He was hunched over, so at first Sara could only see his slightly wavy slate-gray hair. But then he lifted his head—
Sara just barely managed to stifle the shriek that leaped to her throat at the man’s expressionless, blank white mask.
Sara stared. The prince’s soft bangs gently fell over the front of the snow-white mask.
It wasn’t one of the extravagant kinds people used at carnivals—it was a white clay casting of a human face, and the only holes were over his mouth, nostrils, and eyes.
The mask didn’t look like a real person’s face—it was clearly just an uncanny, generic imitation to prevent anyone from seeing his real face. But it was strangely comical, seeing the stark contrast of the mask with the flesh tone of his right hand as he brushed aside his bangs.
“So you’re Princess Hermine of Saleilles?”
Unsurprisingly, the bulge of his mask that mimicked lips did not move at all. His voice was slightly muffled, but Sara could still hear him. His voice was calmer than it had sounded before, and his tone was gentle. Sara could tell that her presence irritated him, but she didn’t sense any overt hatred.
Sensing that Daniel was giving her a pointed look, Sara took a step forward and bowed.
“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prince Richard. I am Hermine, from the Kingdom of Saleilles. I have come to serve as your consort.”
“…Raise your head,” he ordered, a sigh weaving through his voice.
Sara looked up, slightly taken aback. She had been fully prepared to have the entire conversation with her head bent downward, if need be, but Richard had told her to lift her head—to be at ease—much quicker than she had expected.
Perhaps the prince saw, through the eyeholes in his mask, that Sara was staring unabashedly at him. He put down his pen, languidly crossed his arms, and leaned back into his chair.
“I only agreed to this because Edouard insisted upon it. I’m sorry, but there will be no friendship between you and me. In fact, I only ask that you stay out of my way. I may be a recluse, but I do have quite a lot of responsibilities to get on with.”
“……”
“I can take care of myself, and if there’s anything I need, I ask the attendants, like Daniel over there. There’s really nothing I need from you. Your life here, at least, is secured, so just leave me to do things in my own way.”
Sara blinked silently at him several times.
She had heard that the king’s older brother was a recluse—eccentric—a misanthrope. She knew about his mask-wearing, too. She could even tell something about his likes and preferences by looking around his study. But truth be told…
I thought he would be much scarier and meaner than he is…
Sara heard a huff of laughter from behind Richard’s mask, perhaps because she hadn’t spoken, moved, or reacted in any way. He unfolded his arms and propped his elbows on the desk. Sara felt a jolt run through her—even in such a careless motion, a vague sense of elegance and sex appeal radiated off him.
Richard may be a masked recluse, but he’s still royalty, she realized.
“Are we done with introductions? As I mentioned before, I have things I need to get on with. Daniel will help you with everything else. You’re dismissed.”
“R-Right… If, um, there’s ever anything I can do, I will—so please call for me if you need something—or if you just feel like it,” Sara said in a rush.
Richard had never wanted to marry Sara. He only reluctantly agreed to it because the king had asked him to. He had no desire for the two of them to ever become a happily married couple. He almost certainly didn’t want to have children together, either.
But I want to be happy here! I know I’m probably just an annoyance to the prince, but…it would break my heart if we were a cold, estranged married couple…
“O-Of course, I will obey your wishes, Your Highness. But my father told me to serve you with all my heart, and…”
“…And what?”
“Even if my father hadn’t told me that, I would like to have some sort of relationship with you, and Daniel, and the others, because…there’s no place I can go home to anymore.”
Sara regretted saying the last few words as soon as they spilled out of her mouth. They were unnecessary and probably made her sound like she was trying to use pity to persuade him.
But she could almost sense his discomposure in his white mask, and when his body twitched, he turned away from her altogether.
“I’ll say this now so there’s no room for misunderstanding.”
Sara swallowed nervously at his voice, which seemed oddly tense.
“I cannot make you happy. Do not ask me why. Even if we’re married, happiness will be forever out of your reach.”
“……”
“I will, at least, make arrangements so that your life will be comfortable. If there’s something you want, I will do everything I can to arrange it for you… I’m sorry, but don’t hold out hope for me.”
Richard’s voice was cold and dispassionate, but for some strange reason, Sara felt like he was smiling sadly under his mask.