Rosemarie loved gardening.
She was the type of child who, whenever she discovered a plant she’d never seen before, would wander off, sending everyone else into a panic.
She always found it mysterious how the seeds sown by her own hands turned into such beautiful flowers. Also mysterious was the fact that these fruitful things would always return to the seeds from whence they came.
Ever since she started seeing human heads as beast heads, her interest grew stronger.
Even when she inevitably went out in public and was scared out of her wits, she would come back to the imperial villa where her ever-silent flower friends would greet and console her.
That was why she paid such respect to the tools she would use to raise said flowers. When she was done using them, she would polish them clean; if they were to break, she would have them repaired. Multi-functional and capable, her tools were extremely reliable.
And, among them, it was her bucket that would help protect her.
She wouldn’t see anything once she put it over her head. Even if someone were watching her, she couldn’t see them, meaning she could go out without fear. The bucket also blocked sound, so she could go out without hearing anything she didn’t want to hear.
The darkness, coupled with the feeling of enclosure where she could only see people by their feet, gave her a sense of relief unlike anything else.
At least, that’s how it was until a few days ago.
“Princess, perhaps it’s about time to do away with the bucket? At this rate it will fuse to your hand,” Heidi said to soothe Rosemarie. But she held down the edges of her bucket headdress with both hands and shook her head in response.
In the corner of her bedroom, and huddled underneath her vanity, Rosemarie had been keeping up her defense since this morning.
Five days had passed since the congratulatory banquet. She had been scared so badly, she’d collapsed pathetically at the banquet. But when she came to and thought things over rationally, she began to feel she may have been too harsh on Claudio.
(Saying that I would have preferred the beast head, saying he didn’t understand my feelings... He isn’t the only one who doesn’t understand... I don’t want to see him...)
He was most certainly furious at her, without a shadow of a doubt. Filled with self-loathing, Rosemarie cooped herself up in her room and put her bucket over her head. But it didn’t put her at ease.
“You have an apology present from His Highness here. Admittedly, I’m rather disappointed and curious as to why His Highness himself hasn’t graced us with his presence,” Heidi said from beside Rosemarie, her tone highly displeased. Of course, her head had turned into a black cat per usual.
Rosemarie would receive gifts of dresses and jewels—things that would make a normal girl jump for joy—along with a message card with an apology written on it almost every day from Claudio, but none of that was enough to move her heart.
(I don’t want to leave, but I have to leave... I have to apologize to the prince.)
She thought to herself, but no matter what she tried, her body wouldn’t listen to her. Rosemarie clutched her knees and squeezed them tight.
“Today’s gift is Kaola. I was told it arrived from Volland just this morning. It came with letters from your family.”
“Kaola and letters...?” The word “letters” made Rosemarie perk her head up. Upon hearing that she received letters from her family, all of whom had hurried home after the wedding for fear of leaving the country’s borders open for too long, she felt her emotions resurface.
“Yes, letters. They were, well... brought early this morning by Imperial Guard Vice Captain, Squire Clausen. I was told that His Highness used a spell to send away for it, and it was written last night—freshly written and hot off the oven!”
“Hot off the oven...?” She had the feeling that wasn’t the right expression to use when dealing with a letter, but as she tried to reach out and take the letter, her hand was caught in Heidi’s grasp.
“Ah-ha, so, you’d like to read them, wouldn’t you? You’d reeeally like to read them, wouldn’t you? Well, you can’t do much reading if you keep that bucket on your head, you know. So, come now, out of there and off with the bucket!” Heidi pulled on Rosemarie’s hand, dragging her out from underneath the vanity. Rosemarie slowly pulled off the bucket to find Heidi standing there holding out the handful of letters with a broad smile across her face.
“And while you read those, I will brew you up some Kaola tea.” Pressing the mail Heidi handed to her against her chest with great care, Rosemarie could make out the aroma of brewing Kaola wafting through the air.
While a part of her felt that she should hold off and save the letters for later, Rosemarie sat on her bed and carefully proceeded to read through them.
They started off with well-wishes, but the majority written was about Volland. Written down were her parents’ and her sisters’ everyday occurrences and the status of the garden of the villa where Rosemarie used to reside.
She felt so homesick by the end of reading them that she wanted to cry. That was when, as if calculated, Heidi presented her with the sweet and piping hot cup of Kaola tea.
“Has that calmed you down any?”
“...Yes, but, now I have the desire to go back to Volland... I want to run off to the villa...”
“Shall we see our way back home? Both parties are sure to be surprised.” As Rosemarie saw Heidi come closer, clenching her fists playfully, she wiped her tear-stained eyes as a small smile started to form on her lips. With the cup in hand, Rosemarie gazed at the tea’s brown surface and asked, “...The prince sent away for this letter via a spell?”
“It would seem like it. Since you almost never go outside, princess, he must have been at his wits’ end and fell back on your parents.” It seemed that her anger had decreased, but the pair of black cat ears that popped onto Heidi’s head spooked Rosemarie and caused her shoulders to jump.
“Oh, dear. My apologies. I will be back after I calm myself down a tad.” Assuming from Rosemarie’s reaction that she must look like a beast, Heidi smiled wryly and exited the bedroom.
Rosemarie grasped the cup as she sat all alone in the room.
(But the prince can’t even use magic.)
Her guess was that Claudio went to the trouble of asking that melancholy hooded sorcerer, Edeltraud, and sent away for the letters. Which meant he’d asked for Rosemarie’s family’s cooperation for the sake of her and her shut-in ways. Or, perhaps Claudio himself didn’t commission it, but one of his aides had the sense and made the call.
“I think his condition should be worsening again around now, but...” The thought of Edeltraud reminded her: if that sorcerer’s statements were correct, then each day Claudio spent without Rosemarie by his side saw his condition worsening. He probably hadn’t been getting any sleep, either. However, he hadn’t come to forcefully drag her out at all.
She wasn’t sure what to think of this—was he being angry and holding his ground? Had he abandoned her? He’d sent away for letters in the midst of all this, which only added to her confusion.
Nevertheless, Rosemarie had finally parted with her bucket and stepped out of her bedroom on the next day—and on that day, and even the day after that, she continued to receive letters from her family.