For some reason, he was nowhere to be seen.
For someone who’d been whining not long ago about how lonely he felt because his fiancée wasn’t paying enough attention to him, Prince Izlarich’s absence from the very tea party June helped organize was baffling.
Ah, right. Now that I thought about it, his elder brother, Prince Ramtak, was hosting a men-only luncheon at this exact time. Something about a “refined gathering of gentlemen.” In truth, it was little more than a transparent attempt to compete with Bertia’s event.
That would explain why there were fewer men in the garden today.
Well, “fewer” compared to the ladies. There were still plenty of male guests, but I could easily imagine how sparse Ramtak’s luncheon must be by comparison.
It was a matter of simple timing and reason. Bertia and Princess Lysonna had sent out invitations first, after all. Moreover, since all the guests had gathered in Seahealby for Crown Prince Aleis and Princess Lysonna’s wedding, this tea party was naturally considered the more significant occasion.
Why Ramtak failed to understand something that obvious, I truly couldn’t say. His inability to grasp simple social dynamics was almost impressive in its own way.
No doubt, at this very moment, he was fuming in embarrassment over his poorly attended luncheon. But that was his own doing; an entirely self-inflicted humiliation.
I had even received an invitation to that so-called gentlemen’s affair myself. Needless to say, as Bertia’s partner and official escort, there was never any question of my attending. My reply had been a polite but immediate refusal.
Still, perhaps Izlarich had gone there instead, neglecting Lady June in favor of his brother’s vanity project?
That seemed possible until I caught sight of him.
He wasn’t at the luncheon after all.
No, he was here, half-hidden behind a pillar along the covered walkway that overlooked the garden.
From the corner of my eye, I watched him glare at us, his expression a tangled knot of frustration and jealousy. His gaze was fixed squarely on Bertia, who was, at that very moment, laughing cheerfully beside June.
Really now, what on earth are you doing?
If he was so miserable seeing his fiancée speak with another woman, why didn’t he simply come over and escort her himself?
He’d been invited, after all, and the rules of this tea party were flexible. Guests were free to join or leave at any time.
There was absolutely no reason he couldn’t join now.
Or was he still shackled by those old, useless notions saying “A man must take the lead,” or “A woman should never act without yielding to a man’s position”?
If so, he’d do well to toss those outdated scraps of pride into the nearest incinerator and burn them to ash. They were doing him no favors.
“So, Lady June,” Bertia asked gently, furrowing her brow with concern, “His Highness Prince Izlarich isn’t attending after all?”
“Yes, it seems that way.” June’s tone was polite, but her eyes flickered with something sharper. Hurt, perhaps, or frustration. “I gave him his invitation myself, but he never replied. I even spoke to him again yesterday at the academy, and he only said he ‘wasn’t sure’ if he could attend. And since he’s nowhere to be seen today, I suppose he couldn’t—or rather, wouldn’t—come.”
No, that wasn’t my imagination. That faint crackle of irritation that slipped through her calm demeanor was very real.
Honestly, what is Prince Izlarich thinking? To leave someone precious to him looking so dejected, so quietly angry… He’s digging his own grave.
Perhaps it was time for a little intervention.
“Tia,” I murmured softly, leaning closer so only she could hear. “I’m going to fetch a certain latecomer who’s hiding behind that pillar. You stay here and keep chatting with Miss June as if nothing’s wrong, all right?”
Bertia blinked, tilting her head in puzzlement. Then, sensing that I was planning something discreet, she covered her mouth with her hand and whispered back, “Eh? Behind the pillar? A latecomer? What do you mean?”
“Seems he showed up late and doesn’t have the courage to come in. I’ll go and encourage him,” I said, my tone light but my meaning very clear. “If he realizes we’ve noticed him, he’ll probably panic and run off, so don’t mention it to Miss June. Just keep her occupied with conversation.”
I flicked a glance toward the corridor, just enough for Bertia to follow the direction of my eyes.
She looked over discreetly, pretending to adjust her sleeve.
The moment her gaze landed on the figure half-hidden in the corridor's shadows, scowling in silent turmoil, her face lit with a radiant expression.
“Lady Bertia? Is something the matter? Did you see something over there?”
June, noticing Bertia’s sudden change in expression, began to follow her line of sight.
“Ah! N-No, nothing like that!” Bertia flailed both hands in mild panic. “I just remembered that the cake I really like is being served today! I was wondering where it was placed, and— There! Over there! Not that way, that way!”
Her frantic tone alone would have aroused suspicion in anyone else, but June only blinked, startled by Bertia’s intensity. Then, remembering her friend’s legendary obsession with sweets, she smiled faintly.
“I see. I’m glad you found it.”
“Then why don’t you go ahead and get your favorite cake, Tia?” I said, smoothly stepping in before Bertia’s fluster could draw more attention. “I’ll pick up some light food. Miss June, would you mind keeping her company for a bit?”
“Not at all,” she replied graciously.
Bertia gave an energetic nod. “Thank you! I’ll just be a moment!”
As they headed toward the dessert table, she glanced back once, her eyes meeting mine for the briefest instant, and gave a slight, resolute nod that clearly said, “I’m counting on you.”
Once they were safely out of range, I turned toward the rest of the garden. The air was thick with the silent anticipation of nobles looking for a chance to approach me. Their gazes clung like ivy.
Smiling politely, I raised a hand in a courteous gesture that said “perhaps later,” slipping through the crowd before anyone could stop me.
If I recall correctly, that corridor can also be reached from the inner walkway.
Reconstructing the palace layout in my mind, I plotted the quickest route that would let me approach the pillar from the opposite side, out of Prince Izlarich’s line of sight.
“Zeno,” I murmured.
“Yes, Your Highness?” He was already there, silent as a shadow, standing half a step behind me.
“If he tries to retreat into the building, block his path.”
“Will there be a hazard allowance for this assignment?”
“No. This falls under your regular duties.”