After parting ways with June and her group, the tedious portion of the afternoon began: socializing.
As the crown prince and princess consort of the Alphasta Kingdom, we were already accustomed to being surrounded by people eager to talk. But today’s tea party was officially being held at Bertia’s request, as an “opportunity to deepen connections with foreign guests.” That little detail lowered everyone’s hesitation considerably.
Naturally, the moment we began walking around the venue, people approached us one after the other.
“It’s such an honor to speak with the Crown Prince and Princess Consort of Alphasta!”
“We’re so grateful to Her Highness Princess Bertia for organizing such a splendid event.”
“Earlier, I tried a snack called potato chips. Simply exquisite! I heard it was Princess Bertia’s own creation? Remarkable!”
We smiled and responded with practiced politeness, exchanging a few light words with each guest. It wasn’t an official audience or a political meeting. It was more casual, a matter of showing our faces and saying a few pleasantries. Tiresome, yes, but not truly difficult.
The real problem lay elsewhere.
“I’m delighted to meet you as well!”
“Oh my, I’m so glad to hear that!”
“You enjoyed the potato chips? I’m glad I suggested them to Lady Lysonna!”
Bertia, ever the courteous one, always made sure to respond properly when spoken to. Yet, despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to eat a single bite of the cake she’d been eyeing since earlier. She kept raising and lowering her fork helplessly, her smile bright but increasingly tinged with longing.
She loved talking with people; it was one of her charms. Still, being trapped before a table of beautiful sweets she couldn’t touch was slowly changing her radiant aura into something wistful and fragile.
The more perceptive guests noticed and wrapped up their conversations quickly, giving her a moment’s respite. Unfortunately, not everyone was so considerate.
Some tried too hard to leave an impression, prattling on endlessly. Others, uncertain of our reactions, kept fishing for agreement or affirmation.
In the end, the more perceptive guests withdrew, and the less perceptive ones closed in to fill the gap.
A remarkably efficient self-sorting system, I thought dryly. Useful for gauging people’s social awareness. But if I don’t step in soon, my wife might wither away from sugar deprivation.
“Tia, what’s wrong? Are you getting tired?” I asked gently.
“N-No, I’m just…” She hesitated.
Bertia had started to lower her gaze more and more on the untouched slice of cake before her. Sensing her quiet desperation, I leaned toward her and spoke softly.
Fortunately, the couple we were speaking to belonged to the perceptive sort. That one subtle cue would be enough for them to understand my intent.
“Oh my, how rude of us, Princess Bertia,” the gentleman said. “It seems we’ve detained you far too long. Conversing with the two of you has been such a delight that I quite lost track of time.”
“Indeed,” his wife added. “Her Highness is ever so popular. She must be exhausted from speaking with everyone. Please, do take a well-deserved rest.”
The royal couple from the island nation near Seahealby bowed politely and withdrew, sending us off with impeccable courtesy. Thanks to the lady’s thoughtful phrasing, word quickly spread among the surrounding guests that we were taking a short break. Those waiting their turn looked disappointed but retreated nonetheless.
“Your kindness is deeply appreciated,” I said with a pleasant smile, shaking the gentleman’s hand. “Your country seems to have an abundance of valuable crops. I look forward to the possibility of fruitful cooperation between us.”
Bertia mirrored my smile, turning to the lady. “Thank you so much. I do hope we can continue this conversation another time,” she said, deftly maintaining the warm rapport she’d built.
Good, I thought, watching her. This particular kingdom produces excellent cacao, and according to Bertia, a number of other ingredients useful in confectionery as well.
In short, it was precisely the kind of nation that appealed to my wife’s heart and palate. As long as the country itself remained stable and these two possessed the diplomatic competence their roles demanded, maintaining a connection with them would only be beneficial.
If we could jointly develop new specialty products, both sides stood to gain.
“Finally… Finally, I can eat this cake,” Bertia murmured, her shoulders slumping with a faint sigh of relief as we returned to our reserved table.
The moment she sat down, she took up her fork with quiet determination and tasted the long-awaited dessert. Her eyes softened with bliss, the weariness in her expression melting away as if sugar itself had revived her spirit.
Seeing her contented smile, our Alphasta maids, who had been waiting discreetly at the edge of the venue, approached and began pouring fresh tea for us, their movements quiet and practiced.
“Princess Lysonna and the others haven’t returned yet, but we’ve already spoken with plenty of people. Why don’t we take it easy here for a while?” I suggested.
We still had an audience scheduled later with the empress dowager and the queen. Frankly, I’d had enough of small talk for the day, and we’d already spoken to everyone I’d planned to. There was no reason to push ourselves any further.
“Yes, that sounds lovely!” Bertia agreed at once, her face lighting up. “Besides, we’ll still have some time to speak with people on the day of the wedding itself.”
Her cheerful tone made it obvious. She was simply eager to eat her sweets in peace.
In the morning, she’d even gone through her indoor exercise routine and eaten lightly, all to prepare for today’s event. Knowing that, I decided not to say anything more. She’d earned this little moment of indulgence.
Smiling, I watched her as she happily nibbled on her cake and pastries, her expression that of a small, contented animal finally enjoying its treat after being made to wait far too long.
While I quietly sipped the tea our maid had just poured, a familiar figure approached. Kulgan, my long-time aide who’d been my right hand since our academy days, moved with his usual calm composure.
I had assigned him to gather information on foreign representatives, so although he was attending the tea party, he had been acting independently until now. His arrival likely meant he’d come to give his report.
“Your Highness Prince Cecil, Princess Bertia, thank you for your hard work,” he greeted, bowing respectfully.
“Thank you, Kulgan. You’ve been busy as well, haven’t you?” I replied.
“Yes! Did you have the chance to try the sweets, Sir Kulgan?” Bertia asked warmly.
“I did, Your Highness. I even sampled the potato chips you devised. They were excellent,” he said, a rare, faint smile tugging at his lips.
Bertia looked delighted by the praise, taking another dainty bite of cake before turning her attention back to him.
“So,” I asked, “was there anything out of the ordinary?”
“Nothing significant. However…”
“However?”
Kulgan glanced briefly around us, then stepped closer. Lowering his voice, he bent at the waist and murmured near my ear.
And at that exact moment—
“Oh, my! If it isn’t His Highness Prince Cecil of Alphasta!”
A bright, high-pitched voice rang out before I even had time to react.
“I’ve heard so much about you! They say you’re not only brilliant but quite the handsome gentleman as well. I am Princess Bistona Umyuve, the eighth princess of the Umyuve Kingdom.”
The woman who had appeared so suddenly had a striking resemblance to Princess Lysonna. Her sister, no doubt, but this one radiated a rather… different kind of energy. For one, her dress was cut scandalously low.
And she was speaking to me. Only to me.
“Kulgan?” I murmured quietly, not breaking my polite smile.