IT was another day, and, standing at the door to the king’s audience hall and waiting to escort Cesia, Marcus’s eyes widened when he saw her approaching. She was wearing a flame-red dress with jade green ornamentation—the same one she had worn the night they had danced together.
The first time he saw her wear that dress, she had tried to hide why she was wearing it. But now, fully understanding the meaning of the colors, she wore it proudly.
“Sorry for the delay,” she said.
“Not at all,” Marcus said.
She grabbed the dress to show him and smiled. “Is this weird? I think I gained some weight. A certain someone keeps trying to make me eat a bunch of food,” she said. That someone was Maria. Every time Cesia saw her, she tried to make her eat as many nutritious things as possible.
“No, it looks wonderful, as always.”
Cesia paused. “I like it. It’s my only good dress, and I got it from Lady May.”
Marcus held out his hand to Cesia, and she put her hand on top of his. When their eyes met, Marcus squinted as if staring at something bright. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” Cesia smiled happily.
The two guards, one on each side of the door, loudly announced their entrance.
“Then, let’s go, my fiancée.”
“I’ll be counting on you, my future husband.”
They looked at each other and smiled playfully.
The double doors were wide open. A carpeted path led straight to the throne within the audience hall ahead of them. Escorted by Marcus, Cesia confidently walked forward. It was clear to anyone there who Cesia was as she walked side by side with Marcus, wearing his colors. Someone let out an audible sigh.
The two arrived at the designated point for them to stand and stopped.
Marcus looked at Cesia. “Will you be fine by yourself?” he whispered.
She was nervous but firmly nodded, and said, “Yes.” Marcus rubbed her shoulder to give her courage, then went to sit with the rest of the royal family. His face had a hint of worry, but it was Cesia’s time to perform.
Her name was called. “Cesia Kathrin.”
“Yes,” she responded. She straightened her back, then curtsied elegantly, keeping her back straight and remaining firmly aware of her foot planted on the floor. That was one of the series of movements that Anita had drummed into her. The person Cesia was now was made up of what she had learned from many different people, including much of what Marcus had taught her.
Alongside the deep gratitude she felt toward him, she also loved him. She didn’t want to make him change himself, and she didn’t want to be a weakness of his. No longer like a stray cat, she proudly advanced, head held high, to win her love herself.
Raising her face, she saw the king of Emeroade. He was a stern-looking man, slightly older than her father would have been, and he didn’t resemble Marcus at all. Then, making sure not to move her head, Cesia used her eyes only and saw two beautiful women sitting on either side of the king—the queen consort and the king’s concubine.
The king’s concubine was Marcus and Mavis’s mother, Princess Muriel. Their appearances were identical to hers, whether it was their bright, fiery red hair, jade green eyes, or the same amused expressions as they watched the proceedings.
“I hear that you greatly contributed to resolving the most recent incident. My thanks,” the king said.
His deep voice was unexpectedly similar to Marcus’s. Cesia was surprised. She had heard somewhere that the sound of a person’s voice was related to their bone structure, and Marcus and his father weren’t alike in that respect. Then she realized that Marcus might model himself after his father when he conducted himself as a prince. That idea of Marcus imitating his father was sweet. He was adaptable and light on his feet, but the image that came to his head when he imagined someone dignified was of his father, and it was clear that he had great respect for his father. With that, Cesia’s nervousness abated somewhat, and she smiled slightly.
“Thank you for rescuing my son and grandson,” the king said, continuing in his deep, calm voice.
He specifically said those words as a father and grandfather, Cesia thought. The king’s intense eyes had softened ever so slightly, conveying a feeling of pure gratitude, and Cesia felt a warm twinge in her chest.
“I am unworthy of those kind words,” Cesia said. Everyone there knew she was a commoner, so she spoke carefully and concisely to avoid being disrespectful. The king nodded magnanimously, impressed, perhaps, by her efforts.
An elderly man standing one step below the king read aloud from a document. Cesia didn’t know who he was, but he was of some high rank or another and seemed to be in charge of directing the proceedings. The man read off a list of names of those who had contributed to resolving the recent crisis and the rewards to be parceled out. He explained that the knights were to be honored and that any who had desired something else had already received it. Cesia had distinguished herself in various situations and had performed well when closing in on Juliette, so she had been granted a direct audience with the king.
In other words, at present, all the ministers and members of the royal family had gathered there for her. Beads of sweat rolled down her back, but she maintained her plastered-on smile. The setting was just right for her and Marcus’s plan, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous.
Cesia glanced around at the royal family before her. Mavis watched her nervously, and Crown Princess Edith looked at her gratefully as she lovingly held Ronald. Marcus, meanwhile, was unsuccessfully trying to hide a smirk. I’ll hit him again after this. As hard as I can. I don’t need to hold back anymore.
“So, Cesia Kathrin, name your reward,” the king said.
It had been a year since she had begun working at the Second Division of the Financial Audit Bureau. In that time, she had saved a princess, a marquess’s daughter, a prince, and the future crown prince. In all, it was more than enough to say that she had saved the kingdom. The script was incredibly simple, and Prince Marcus himself had said the words she had to say once before. Saving the kingdom meant that she could take a princess’s hand in marriage. Cesia was a woman, so a lovely, red-haired prince would surely be just right.
“Then, with all due respect, I would like to take Prince Marcus Emeroade as my partner in marriage,” Cesia said.
For a moment, no one understood what she had said, and the audience hall fell silent. Cesia looked at the expressions on everyone’s faces carefully as she waited for a response.
The man reading off the list, Count Ford, the speaker of parliament, finally broke the silence. “You wish to become princess consort?”
“No, I only want Prince Marcus.”
These were quite passionate words of confession. Mavis blushed and elegantly put a hand to her mouth, but she would have shouted with joy if she had been in her room and not in the audience hall.
“His Royal Highness is the treasure of Emeroade, not someone we can readily bestow to a commoner.”
At his clear words, Cesia internally chuckled. It had to come to this, or her preparation would have been for nothing. They would neatly make their case against her, only for her to defeat it. That was how she would perfectly get Marcus.
“Speaker, I have someone who would like to offer their input on that matter. Do you mind if he enters?” Marcus asked.
Count Ford’s eyes widened in disbelief that the prince had spoken, but after guards at the door informed him that the man’s identity had already been verified, he reluctantly allowed him in. The space, intended to gather together the royal family and other important individuals of high office, had heavy security, and he judged that one unexpected person would not be an issue.
With permission, Marcus signaled with his eyes to the guards. The doors opened, and everyone looked in wonder at the man who appeared there.
“Please excuse my sudden interruption, Your Majesty. My name is Ben Langton, the Marquess Acton,” said the man. With skilled movements, he greeted the king as a retainer, bowing deeply.
The king nodded once, accepting his greeting. With that, Count Ford spoke to the marquess. “Marquess Acton, what do you have to say?” he asked.
Being in the king’s presence and not wanting to waste time with any ceremonial exchanges, he got straight to the point. “I would like to transfer the barony in my possession to Lady Cesia Kathrin.”
Beginning with Count Ford, everyone in the hall looked surprised. Many high-ranking noble houses held multiple titles concurrently, and it was common in Emeroade for the eldest son to be referred to by his father’s title before he officially took over and for second sons to inherit one of the other titles. However, it was exceedingly rare for nobles to grant their titles to strangers.