His Imperial Highness. That referred to her father, Grand Duke Kyle Asteara, known in society circles as the Demon Duke. And according to Gilbert, he’d personally asked the prince to come check on her? It didn’t make a lick of sense. She couldn’t begin to guess his intent. Frowning deeply, Milly glared at her visitor.
“And sure enough, I find this. Not only is your room turned upside down, but you’re crouched in some peculiar pose, scaring the maids half to death.”
“The room’s one thing, but the pose has a very clear purpose.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure it does.” Gilbert waved it off. “Anyway, as long as you look healthy, that’s what matters. The way your father spoke, I thought Ike had really shaken you.”
He sighed again, casting his eyes around the wrecked room. “Still, you’ve really gone all out in here. Well, in any case, I know how you feel about His Imperial Highness, but you ought to speak to him once in a while. He does worry about you, you know. Considering he asked me to come, he’s more concerned than he lets on.”
Milly folded her hands behind her back and turned her head away, sulking. It felt like being told by a headmaster to make up with a classmate. If he were truly worried about me, he wouldn’t have said he didn’t care whether I lived or died.
The words her father had flung at her on the very day she discovered the world had rewound still rang in Milly’s ears. When she had begged him to protect her, Kyle had refused without a flicker of hesitation. He had neither been awkwardly joking nor embarrassed. She knew better than anyone how ruthless his brand of “rationality” was.
So for him to call in the second prince merely because she was acting strangely smacked of ulterior motives. Because that man would never truly worry over me.
Long ago, before her mother died, perhaps her father had traces of gentleness within him. But that was another lifetime. From everything she’d learned, especially from Ike, Milly had no illusions left: Kyle Asteara was cold to the core.
She lifted her chin with a sharp sniffle. Enough of that. The subject was closed.
“You know,” she said, “since you’ve come all this way, you ought to have some tea before you go. Bibi’s developed a sweet tooth after helping with my cake tastings. She’s been buying up every confection in the capital. We have more than enough.”
It wouldn’t do to send the prince away without any hospitality. With a quick incantation, Milly set the room back in order, the wreckage righting itself in seconds.
But Gilbert’s face darkened at her offer. “No, I’ll head back for today. I’ll try these famous sweets of yours another time.”
“Already? Are you pressed for time?”
“No, it’s not that,” Gilbert said. “But if I linger, it gets...complicated. Some nobles are quick to jump to conclusions.”
“Conclusions?” Milly tilted her head.
He gave a rueful smile. “If people start saying the second prince and the grand duke’s daughter are especially close, then suddenly I’m labeled ‘pro-Asteara.’ It’s tiresome.”
“Is that truly what happens?”
“Indeed. And right now, there’s already friction over the succession. Add to that, well, your father’s reputation, and...” He trailed off, lowering his eyes as though the words themselves were awkward to voice.
Milly caught his meaning. “Ah, I see. If you’re seen consorting with the ruthless, bloodless Asteara family, then people will think you’re cut from the same cloth, and that would damage your chance at the throne.”
“I never said it like that!” Gilbert cut in sharply, too fast.
Milly thought her summary neat enough, but there was no denying the hatred of the grand duke’s house. Nobles shunned them; commoners did too. For someone like Gilbert, whose popularity was his strongest asset, keeping that distance was only natural.
“That’s what it means to be a prince, isn’t it?” she said. “You’re at the age where you can’t avoid weighing such things anymore.”
Milly let out a small sigh. Ten years ago, life had been as simple as laughing and playing together. Now the world of nobility seemed unbearably complicated. Even she, who had long avoided society, could feel its weight. For Gilbert, who stood at the edge of the throne, those chains must be many times heavier. He no longer had the luxury of crying over insects—no wonder he’d grown so strong.
Accepting that truth, Milly’s face softened into a smile. “Not being able to frolic as you please is rather sad, isn’t it? Perhaps I should’ve played more tag with you while we still had the chance.” She laughed gently.
Across from her, Gilbert looked back with an expression caught between sorrow and unease, a tangle of feelings Milly couldn’t quite name. Just then, the clock chimed. Startled, Milly realized how long she had kept her childhood friend. He had already said he shouldn’t linger. It was time to let him go.
“I suppose that’s enough for today,” she admitted. “I’m sorry for keeping you so long. I’ll tell father not to meddle further.”
“Ah... Yes.”
“Well then, see you at the academy. Next time, I’ll show you my improved ‘delinquent pose.’ Look forward to it, won’t you?”
“I’d really rather not.”
“Really?” Milly tilted her head, disappointed. “Well, if you change your mind, just say the word.” She gave him a final wave, watching with a bright expression as Gilbert took his leave.
“M-Milly.” Just before the door closed behind him, Gilbert turned back, hesitant, her name catching in his throat.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Well, it’s just, if you...if you ever wanted it, then...even if I weren’t heir to the throne, I...” The words dwindled, collapsing into silence. Nothing passed between them for a few long seconds. Then Gilbert bit down hard on his lip, shook his head faintly, and forced a smile. “No, forget it. My mistake. Another time.” From the proud second prince, those words sounded uncharacteristically frail.
Milly remained standing where she was, replaying his unfinished thought. Then it struck her. Maybe he’s just got something stuck between his teeth again. She had already explained toothpicks to him at the entrance ceremony, and yet apparently he’d forgotten.
With an exasperated sigh and a smug little sniff, Milly reached for the nearest book. If nothing else, she still had time to perfect her final boss poses.
The holiday was only just beginning, and wasting it would be unforgivable.