A few days later, Mavis, Juliette, and the crown princess, Edith, were enjoying a tea party together. During her visit, Juliette had more chances to meet with Emeroade royals than other visitors, with the reason she gave being that she wanted to build a friendly relationship with the royal family she was going to marry into in several months’ time.
The tea party was in a drawing room on the top floor of the castle, used exclusively by the royal family. The distant forests and mountains were visible from the large, overhanging balcony, and from far away, the distinctive, early spring scent of new leaves wafted into the room. On days with good weather, they could even see birds flying, and Mavis loved to watch them through the windows secretly.
Originally, the king’s concubine and second wife, Mavis’s and Marcus’s mother, was going to join them, but she couldn’t find the time due to sudden official business. Mavis felt somewhat intimidated by the idea of a tea party with Juliette and was thankful that Edith was there.
The second princess of Gwyllt, Juliette, would soon be her sister-in-law. Mavis had been raised to be fair, but to tell the truth, she couldn’t help but find Juliette hard to deal with. At first, she scolded herself for what she thought was a childish jealousy of the person marrying her brother. However, that was wrong.
For example, Mavis loved her brother’s subordinate, Cesia. Again, she had been raised to treat people fairly and tried her hardest to restrain herself from showing more favoritism than necessary towards a single citizen, but she still overflowed with adoration for Cesia. For some reason, Cesia thought of herself as just a plain and ordinary person, but she was beautiful in body and mind. She didn’t abase herself or flatter Mavis; she respected the princess as just another person and was her treasured associate. Sometimes, Mavis worried whether Cesia treated her a bit too casually for a princess, but the way Cesia acted was simply how she felt, without any hidden meaning, and it comforted Mavis. She quietly wondered whether Cesia might count as a friend, but she hadn’t yet confided that to anyone.
It was also thanks to Cesia that she knew the friction she felt with Juliette wasn’t out of feelings of jealousy. Her brother loved Cesia as a woman—Mavis could tell because she was his sister, and she loved him and always paid attention to him. Marcus was adept in secrecy, but his guard was more relaxed around Mavis, and whenever he spoke about Cesia, he completely changed.
Marcus was Mavis’s ideal model of a just royal and an exemplary prince, and he always looked happy when he spoke with her about his subordinates’ good and bad sides alike. He wondered whether it was okay to tell Mavis about something; he told her about how so-and-so messed something up; he praised them for a wonderful accomplishment, and so on—he animatedly explained everything to her. It made her think that her brother’s subordinates must be happy to have a boss they could respect so much, even though she knew she was biased.
However, only when he talked about Cesia was Marcus vague and evasive.
“She’s too reckless, and it worries me,” he had said about Cesia to Mavis in a faint voice.
Rather than worrying, it sounded as if he was annoyed, and there was a hint of anger. He never spoke about his other subordinates in that way; he gave them suitable advice and sometimes brainstormed with them to find the best way to resolve the situation. It was only with Cesia that he felt annoyed when things didn’t go as he wanted. He didn’t think of the best way for her; there was a certain way he wanted her to be for him. The only time the normally fair Marcus wanted to be selfish and have his way was with Cesia. Mavis believed it could only be love.
When she noticed this, she was overjoyed. Her beloved brother and her beloved Cesia—if only they could be in love. It made her feel a bit lonely, but much, much more than that, it made her happy. And when she closely observed Cesia and saw that she, too, was struggling with her budding feelings for Marcus, Mavis could have shouted with joy. However, the two had both decided their love would never come to fruition because of their positions.
That might have been true; no, it was undoubtedly the right decision. Their love would never ripen, yet the more it grew, the more it would hurt them. But Mavis wanted them to resist that foregone conclusion. Marcus was a prince, engaged to a princess of another country. Even though she knew it was wrong, she found herself encouraging his relationship with Cesia. It was her selfish wish, but she wanted them to be happy together, and she didn’t spare any effort trying to support them.
Her brother suppressed his desires and devoted himself to the kingdom, and her friend assumed she was worthless. Mavis’s wish was for their wishes to be fulfilled.
In short, Mavis didn’t find the thought of her brother being taken by someone unpleasant; she just thought Juliette to be an incredibly difficult person. Still, it was hard to put it into words; Juliette was a bit pushy, but she was kind to Mavis. She was friendly enough to tell Mavis, “When I get married and come to Emeroade, there’ll be plenty of things I don’t understand, so please, I hope you can help me out.”
Mavis had thought at first that, while they might have been awkward initially, they would slowly open up to each other, and their relationship would resemble that of sisters. However, she was wrong.
It was only a hunch, and she didn’t have any evidence, but she suspected Juliette had no intention of being friendly with her or getting used to life in Emeroade. And Juliette skillfully hid that from everyone around her. It was also possible that Mavis just didn’t mesh well with her, so she hadn’t told anyone about her suspicions. But in the end, she couldn’t help but feel that Juliette was hiding something and that the foreign princess wasn’t even thinking about her.
“Princess Mavis,” Juliette said, and Mavis smiled. “These are delicious. Are they from a shop somewhere?” she asked, holding a colorfully wrapped baked treat that hadn’t been made in the kitchen in her hand.